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

December 10, 2017

The Root of the Week XIV

"Why, Johnny Ringo ... you look like someone just walked over your grave."

The infamous red sashes are NOT part of the Cowboys uniform, which means I have no qualms about taking them for the official Swami Clan pick this week - except of course that doing so breaks two rules: (1) no road teams, and (2) no teams playing in their division. That, and the Giants have caused much mayhem this season with their very modest win total.

The masses have scattered to the four winds and it is certain not all will survive. Bengals, Titans, Bills, Cowboys, Packers, Chiefs, Steelers, and Chargers all have gotten run this week; not all of those teams will win. Root for your and against the rest, and come Monday perhaps we will have a few more Reaper-ed

Still, despite trepidation, it is Week Fourteen - which means rules are made to broken and very little remains. The pickings are slim, indeed.

The Factor rides with the Cowboys this week.

"Well ... bye."

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.