Updated Feb. 11
I wasn't going to do Hate Mail this week. I was too tired, too grouchy. But then I thought ... wait a minute. If I'm tired, and if I'm grouchy, this might be the perfect time to do Hate Mail!
And then I read one letter, just to see if I was up to it. And it was this one. It was like a sign from God.
My husband spends more energy getting angry over your columns than he does making love to me. Please make it stop Mr. Gregg Doyel! I don't want to hear anymore about you at my dinner table. In fact, I'm pretty sure he has written to you on this website as part of Hate Mail over Tim Teebo and concussions.
P.S. I'm not joking. I wish I was.
A letter like yours -- a plea for help, like yours -- should be taken seriously, and believe me I'm taking it very seriously. But I could take it more seriously with a picture of you both.
Or just you.
Hi Gregg. I would like tie you to a rock so that an eagle could eat your liver for all of eternity. Also, I'd like to smite you as well. You see, I'm positively smitten with smiting. All the best ... Acolyte of the Church of Greco-Roman Neopaganism, or, more commonly, McDeath.
After that whole eagle-eating-my-liver thing, the smiting would seem to be overkill. No?
From: Sam Lolle
In your Twitter profile pic, you have a mohawk. In your CBS pic, you are bald. Which style are you currently sporting? I can't read a writer's article without knowing what he looks like.
Fair enough. I look sort of like this.
From: THE Brian in Pittsburgh
Hate mail was much too short last week. I find it very hard to believe that less people hated you last week than any other week. You are quite a loathsome individual.
And I almost didn't do Hate Mail this week. But I did it, and why? Because of people like you, Brian. Creepy people who put the word "THE" in front of their name and then call ME loathsome.
From: T. Dole
I desperately want to change my allegiance to Freeman as my source of insightful sports commentary. However, I always end up with you. I can't help but click on the article link next to your scrubby little scowling face. Many times when I read the words you write I am disappointed, but there are a rare few times when you drop a gem. Now I can't go back. Damn you Gregg! Damn you to hell!
The columns when I drop a gem are "rare few times" ... and my face is scrubby? I'm sure you think this was a nice e-mail. I'm also sure you could do better.
From: Matthew J.
I think one of these weeks you should do a Love Mail column where you publish all the letters from your fans. I know you must have a couple, right? Aside from those creepy stalker guys that write you each week
You mean like this one?
From: Burton DeWitt
I'm surprised you didn't pull out the key fact that Jim Caldwell's shining achievement at Wake Forest came with a roster than included 23 fifth-year seniors and one sixth-year senior, and yet they still could only muster up a 6-5 regular season mark, including the school's most recent loss to Duke. You need me as your stat boy because I know these things, and then you can use my knowledge to make your articles better. What I'm saying is I can be your CT Hoosier, just with benefits. No, not those benefits ...
Not that there's anything wrong ... oh, the hell with it. Yes there is something wrong with you offering me any sort of benefits.
I started reading your articles just so I could enjoy the hate comments. What I came to realize is, you are very good at your job. I think I just puked a little. Anyway, you now have a 6-foot-3, 290-pound potential stalker on your hands. Good luck.
Couldn't one of you stalkers be a woman? Would that be so friggin' difficult?
From: Scott F.
I love you, good sir.
For the love of God, please tell me "Scott" is short for "Susan."
From: Sarah Soberden
My opinion? You have a tiny penis.
Finally a woman writes me, and you write to say THAT? Fine. But your name is an anagram for "boned harasser." Hey, I don't make the rules.
From: Andrew Myers
You are an idiot, that's all. A stupid human being. Stop breathing.
And your name is an anagram for "dry menswear." Apparently you're good with a raincoat.
Bill Polian is the Gregg Doyel of NFL general managers.
Which part of Polian am I -- the genius part, or the jerk part? Oh, screw it. I'm both parts, and I know it.
From: Mr. Larry Remoie
I swear, for a split second, I thought you were the one who tackled Tim Tebow's mom in the infamous Super Bowl commercial. When Tim Tebow popped up I was a little disappointed.
Me too. I could feel that hit right down to my toes.
From: Matt Case
What is it with you and Bill Simmons?
Um ... no idea what you mean. Unless you mean the fact that I've ripped him a few times on the radio. Big deal. I rip everybody on the radio. I'd rip you, if I knew who you were.
That Erin Andrews article you wrote still pisses me off.
Hit you a little too close to home, did I?
From: Paul Desmond
Now that J.D. Salinger has died you are the greatest living writer in America.
I knew that. And Catcher in the Rye is the most overrated book in the history of, um, books. It's just a whiny kid ... bitching. It's Napoleon Dynamite minus the pictures.
I'll start by saying that, as Curtis Painter's uncle, I'm a little sensitive of any negative references to Curtis -- and there are a lot of them these days. Especially after being placed in an impossible position during the season expected to perform at a high level with a second string squad against first string starters. And now has to endure short-sighted opinions of his abilities as quarterback. And now, in this article, you have to go and say Curtis is just awful presumably because he didn't perform well enough in his NFL debut, but that Tebow is a perfect for the Colts because he needs several years to develop into a good NFL player. Isn't that exactly the same situation Curtis is in and should be allowed to work with for longer than a rookie season?
I must say, ripping someone like Curtis Painter feels good until I get a letter from Uncle Mark. Jeez. I feel tiny ... but not like THAT, Sarah Soberden.