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

September 17, 2011

The Root of the Week II

On January 09 of this very year, as the NFL season and Suicide Pool were winding down, 89% of remaining participants rode the arm of Drew Brees in the stone-cold lock pick of the week: the Saints versus the Seahawks.

89% of remaining participants lost.

On September 18 of this very year, as the NFL season and Suicide Pool are ramping up, the vast majority of the participants have elected to ride the arm of Ben Nomeansyesesberger (despite that team coming off a 28-point loss to a hated division rival) in the stone-cold lock pick of the week: the Steelers versus the Seahawks.

I'm not one to live in the past, however, just to prognosticate the future . . . which is why I'm staying as far away from Pittsburgh as Seattle wants you to stay away from their city (google it, you can't make this stuff up).

Yes, the Swami and Factor broke out our little fondue set for the weekend, as we cast our collective lot with the cheese. Clay is a hungry, hungry man; methinks some smoked Cam is on the menu.

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.