NBC’s Football Night in America Wild Card Weekend Something or Other is proud to welcome former president of the Lions, Matt Millen. Thanks for being such a good sport and being with us, Matt. I have to say, though, I’m surprised your head is so big. I thought for sure it’d be canteloupe sized. Or at the very least, more of a pinhead shape.

No, no, I have a normal head.

Fascinating. So you are not legally required to wear some sort of helmet? Not even for insurance purposes? Because surely your skull is as soft as a newborn baby’s. I imagine it as one big fontanel.

All the seams in my skull knitted together a long time ago.

How about a dunce cap, do you usually wear that? Or a propeller beanie? Maybe one of those floppy crowns like Jughead wore?

I don’t care much for hats.


Matt, it was pretty amazing that someone with your severe mental limitations
was able to run a football team. My question is, why didn’t the special
needs employment agency give you a job better suited for your
compromised abilities? Say, McDonalds cashier, or glass sorter at a recycling facility?

I worked many high profile jobs before joining the Lions.

And these were real jobs, not imaginary ones? Remember, putting on a
Fisher Price stethoscope and playing doctor doesn’t count. Nor does
setting up a lemonade stand in front of the group home where you live.

I live in a big house with my wife and children.

I’m sorry, Matt, I should have explained before you sat down. This thing in front of you is a desk. Grown ups use desks to organize their working spaces.

I’ve sat at a desk before, Bob.

Matt, before you go on, Keith has a very special commentary.

Thank you, Bob. Mr. Millen, has it occurred to you, sir, that you ran a once proud franchise into the ground? Has the thought ever entered that cavernous wasteland you call your mind, sir, that you turned the Lions into the laughingstock of the entire league? Are you aware, sir, that even Raider fans sneer in derision at how badly Detroit is run? I ask, sir, in the name of all that is decent and holy in this world, sir, have you absolutely no sense of shame, sir? Will you, sir, do us all a favor, sir, and promise, sir, that you will never again darken the doors of an NFL front office, sir? Better yet, sir, will you promise, sir, never to even watch football in the privacy of your own home, sir, lest your stupidity transmit itself to these brave athletes via your idiotic brainwaves, sir?


I don’t need anyone to tell me how bad the Lions are. Do you think I
wanted to become a walking punchline? Do you think I wanted to make an
0-16 team? That’s going to follow me to my grave. When I die, that will
be in the first sentence of my obituary, and there’s nothing I can do
to change that. There’s nothing you can say that can make me feel worse
than I already do. I don’t expect you to sympathize with me, or pity
me. Just know that I did the best I could with the tools I had.

Your words have moved me, Matt. Maybe we have been a bit hard on you.
But I’m a bit confused about something. Your speech, it was almost…intelligent. Is your dim-witted body now being controlled by a smaller, smarter entity? Like Master Blaster or something?

Fuck this.
/storms off

I’m sorry Matt Millen had to leave. Luckily, we have a backup guest. Please welcome the owner of the Lions, William Clay Ford.

DUH, I MAKE THE CARS THAT GO VROOM! DUH, GIMME FEDERAL BAILOUT FOR BOOM BOOM IN MY PANTS!