Swami's NFL Pool 2018: Swami Suicide Pool Final 2011 Standings

January 22, 2012

Swami Suicide Pool Final 2011 Standings

For those of you who follow the blog during the season, this post is a little belated. Technical glitches and new blogger software erased the previous finals announcement posting, a fact of which I was not alerted until July. I'm not even sure when it was deleted. So before we get into the 2012 season, let us bestow one last bit of happy goodness (again) on the winner of the 2011 Suicide Pool.

It seems the 'enter five times and hope one of them sticks' strategy worked very well, indeed, and thus it is we crown the very aptly named Luckstick as our winner. He had some serious competition, though, leading into the last round --- which for the 2011 season was the Divisional Playoff Round. The final standings for the Top Eight:

2 - Nine Times
3 - Friend O' Hard Hat
4 - Chuck Dis 01
T5 - The Doctor
T5 - Mad Dog 03
T7 - Vegas Hall Pass
T7 - J-Ro 03

Well done, everyone, and thank you all for participating in the pool. And as this update comes as the horses are nearing the gate for 2012, you might want to consider studying up. Suicide 2012 is coming.

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.