Swami's NFL Pool 2018: The Root of the Week XVI

December 25, 2010

The Root of the Week XVI

It's a rare thing when I am afforded the opportunity to come on the blog, and in the process of posting my weekly Root, come to realize that a great many participants have already been ousted.

Thank you, Jay Feely.

I do find it a little sorrowful that such carnage comes on such a glorious day, and a very Merry Christmas to all of you; I hope your day, for those who perished, was not too tarnished. By the by, the level of Cowboys-wrought death is six, with two previously undefeateds -- including Ze German, and you may find irony therein to last several lifetimes.

For those who roll into Sunday with teams still to go, it seems the Eagles have picked up a number of rooters this week, which is strange given their expected eventual playoff success. Then we have a collection of Rams, Jags, Chiefs, and Chargers, plus one man alone on my beloveds this week (and an undefeated, no less). By the by, part two, at this point so late in the season, just to keep things wholly above board, it is worth noting that my wife is still in the pool (by the grace of some higher power) under the heading of The Factor, and her pick this week is the Texans on the road, to win. Good luck to her.

It seems we are carving the fat from our proverbial turkey in Week Sixteen. Will you be next?

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.