Swami's NFL Pool 2018: Tuesday Taunt XI

November 24, 2010

Tuesday Taunt XI

143 participants

18 players at 10-0

23 players with one loss

102 players dead

3 week eleven losers

Not much action this past weekend given the Texans snatching defeat from the jaws of victory, but as mentioned in the update email, in considering the results I recall the magical words of the immortal Vin Scully, he of the silver tongue and glorious anecdotes, in describing the Kirk Gibson '88 World Series home-run in the moments following the man crossing home plate, post-arm-pump:

"In a year that has been so improbable, the impossible has happened."

In Suicide Pool parlance, the impossible I reference is the winning in the same week of the Cowboys and Chargers, each of whom scored 35 points to beat an inferior opponent; more astounding even than that fact, however, is that the wins came with multiple participants riding the two teams, as well.

In related news, the devil just asked for a parka.

That is all.

Introducing . . .

. . . Ze German, a frothy, filthy, unfiltered 'Skins-lover bringing you weekly rants from his tapestry-laden castle high upon the Zugspitze peak. There is wisdom and method to his madness, however, so pay attention -- just look out for the women and children.

. . . The Holy Light, and the best of us, a beacon of strength, dignity, and truth, and shining where there is darkness. As it was in Ezekiel, his word is his bond and his name is the law, and he shall strike down those who dare not listen when he doth speak.

. . . The Hooded Fiend, brilliant, diabolical, devious -- the smartest man you've never met, and will never have the chance. Locked away in the dungeons below a nondescript building, we only bring the Fiend out to post when the situation is most dire.

. . . El Doctor, the tall, dark, hunky, and handsome resident surgeon of Suicide. Women love his strong hands, men respect his keen mind, and Swami requires his wicked wit, but no one understands his almost unholy passion for autos and linen pants.

. . . Man of Wench, that staunch fan of all things Philly and a fine specimen of masculinity, bold enough to tie the knot with the feisty, infamous Wench. Whether at the grill or at the bar, with a healthy glass of vino in his hand he'll bill you by the hour for a taste of his good times.

. . . Master of Macabre, a delightfully sinful and sinister purveyor of doom and gloom, keeper of all things dark and deathly. It is unsure what horrifies more: his spectral air, his cadaverous crypt, his Machiavellian machinations, or his penchant for Princess and the Frog.

. . . Shapeshifter, he of the ever-changing ways, ever-shifting forms, and everlasting enthusiasm. Our newest commentator brings forth pomp, verbosity, and circumstance on scale to rival even the Swami himself. Shifty, yes, and subtle when necessary, his form is never out of fashion.