DENNIS MILLER.
NFL QUOTES \ HUMOR
Quotes and humor from Dennis Miller
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In the announcers' booth at Monday Night Football...
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AL MICHAELS: Hello and welcome to another edition of ABC's Monday Night Football, tonight broadcasting from beautiful Fed Ex Field in Washington, D.C. I'm Al Michaels, and joining me in the booth are two new members of the ABC family, Dennis Miller and Dan Fouts.
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DENNIS MILLER: Wow, Monday Night Football. I don't want to appear nervous, but I'm under more strain right now than Linda Tripp's capri pants. I have to tell you, I'm conflicted about this. I usually like to be the outsider, the rabble-rouser, the iconoclast, but I also like a nice seat at a sporting event. And this seat is as nice as they get - except I think I took one of Boomer's old squeak toys up the ass when I sat down.
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DAN FOUTS: I was a quarterback.
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MILLER: Thanks for that insight, Mr. Peabody. Dan Fouts, everyone. I'm looking over here, and he's giving me that same blank stare I see when I put my dog on the phone. Hey, this isn't the Senior Tour, Chi Chi. Try to keep up.
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MICHAELS: Tonight the New England Patriots will try to get started on the right foot after a disappointing 8-8 showing last season. They take on the Washington Redskins, whose owner, Daniel Snyder, has paid out $65 million in free agent salaries and bonus payments in the offseason and is looking for results.
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MILLER: Snyder is throwing around cash like a screech monkey playing with a pop-up Kleenex dispenser. But he's a real hard-ass - it must be great to coach this team. Norv Turner comes to work every day, hands his balls to Gus, the 80-year-old equipment guy, who puts them in a footlocker behind the Stairmaster until the end of the game. Did you catch that one ass-chewing Turner received last season? Lee Harvey Oswald got off easier in that little room at the Dallas P.D. And when Turner finally got out of there you could tell he was looking around, desperately praying for Jack Ruby to show up and end his fucking misery.
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MICHAELS: The teams are on the field, and we're almost set for the kickoff.
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FOUTS: I was the quarterback. I didn't go on the field for the kickoff.
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MILLER: Jesus, Shaggy, saunter on back to the Mystery Machine and take a breather, OK? Why don't you pick up your brain off that pile of papers it's holding down and see what happens when you plug it in? The game's starting, and I feel like Corporal Agarn trying to explain supply and demand to the fucking Hakowis.
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MICHAELS: As always, the Fuji Blimp makes its annual appearance at Monday Night Football. Glad to have you back, gentlemen.
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MILLER: It is balloooooooooon! (high-pitched cackle).
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MICHAELS: Starting at quarterback for the Redskins will be Jeff George, whom I guess one could call a journeyman at this point in his career.
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MILLER: I have to admit, when I saw George on the roster I thought he had as much chance of making the team as Linda Hunt on the set of Baywatch. This guy's been around - he's called a lot of plays under a lot of centers. He's seen more giant asses than a guest chair on the Jerry Springer Show.
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MICHAELS: Snyder spent plenty in the offseason to sign star players such as Deion Sanders and Darrell Green on defense.
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MILLER: Yeah, but look at that Fantasia broom army of social misfits the Redskins call an offensive line. I have a feeling that George's appearance tonight is going to be shorter than Mini-Me stooping over to pick up one of Dr. Evil's monocles.
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MICHAELS: George drops back to pass, moves out of the pocket and finds the veteran Michael Westbrook, who is tackled after an 11-yard gain.
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MILLER: Look, I'm new, I don't know that much about defensive schemes. But it seems to me right there that the middle was as vacant as an interview with Posh Spice.
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FOUTS: I was in a Miller beer commercial, and your last name is Miller.
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MILLER: Hey, Aristotle, save some of the probing insight for the rest of us, OK? How come I'm getting the funny feeling that this is an episode of The Munsters, and I'm Marian, the normal one? Now, I don't want to get off on a rant here, but the useful comments coming from your side of the booth could be counted on the one hand of a bad wood shop teacher. I can still see the jelly on your forehead where the electroshock terminals were attached. When I took this job, they didn't tell me that I would be teamed with Pepe the Human Hamster on one side, and on the other a broken-down ex-quarterback who makes Jethro Bodine look like David Niven. I want to find the psychotic network programmers who thought up this train wreck and point out that this shit has to be harder to watch than a sausage being made.
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FOUTS: I like sausage.
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MILLER: Ah fuck it, where's my propeller hat?
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MICHAELS: The handoff is to Stephen Davis, who is tackled at the 39-yard line by defensive tackle Henry Thomas. But there's a flag on the play.
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MILLER: I'd have to say that was the poorest result since O.J. took the lie-detector test. And look at that ref, will ya? He's got more nervous tics than a Belfast valet.
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MICHAELS: That play will be brought back, making it first and 20 from the 49-yard line.
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MILLER: Hey, who took my Raisinettes? Damn you, Roone Arledge! Damn you to hell!
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MICHAELS: George back to pass ... and the throw to Westbrook falls incomplete. Ty Law covering on the play.
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MILLER: I don't want to be a downer here, but how about throwin' the freakin' ball to the other side of the field, you know, cha-cha? You've got Westbrook drawing a bigger crowd than Anna Kournikova at the maximum-security lockdown at Rikers, while meanwhile the kid on the other side is lonelier than a hooker at a Star Trek convention.
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MICHAELS: To be fair, there have only been four plays so far.
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MILLER: Come on Al, you missing link. That receiver is being shunned like an Amish kid with a nipple ring. The left side of the field is to George as a shower is to the French. You've got a better shot at hearing Charlie Sheen give the keynote address at a Promise Keepers rally than you do of ever ....
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MICHAELS: Sorry to break in on you, Dennis, but Washington is guilty of a false start, and that will set them back another five yards.
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MILLER: The ref is whipping out that flag like it's the only lighter at a crack house.
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Later that evening:
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MICHAELS: So your final score is Washington 17, New England 10. We're headed off to San Francisco for our next Monday night broadcast, hope to see you there.
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MILLER: I may be late; I don't fly. It'll be me in my Chevy Nova playing Mad Max with the Madden Cruiser all the way down Route 66, and you'll know I'm winning when Pavorotti starts hurling six-legged turkeys out the skylight for ballast.
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MICHAELS: What will you be doing with your remaining time in Washington, D.C.?
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FOUTS: Doing a little sightseeing.
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MILLER: I'll be back at the hotel, masturbating like a red-assed monkey watching the Banana Channel.
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MICHAELS: So from all of us here at Monday Night Football, see you next week.
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-- David L (
bumpkin@dnet.net), July 30, 2000
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