Saturday Taunt VII

Well, that was close. Far too close. Like Bart says, the Swami will not do the Dirty Bird anymore this season, thank you kindly Atlanta. 

We move into the middle rounds of the season where our inexorable climb continues. A few people fall from the side of the cliff, the rest watch them fall and then look for the next hand-hold. After three crazy weeks to start the year, in which more honor, virtue, and life was lost than a Littlefinger establishment in Westeros, we have settled in and start to gravitate back towards the norms.

Weekend Stats
159 participants
10 undefeated at 7-0
64 with one loss at 6-1
87 deceased

The great game rolls merrily onward. Who will sit upon the Swami throne at season's end?

That is all.

Friday Taunt VII

Phew.

At last a week with limited chaos, at last a brief respite from the craziness of this NFL season. In fact most damage this week was done by participant neglect - not getting picks in properly. The default pick system worked to no one's favor.

Week Seven Stats

159 participants

8 undefeated, including two Swami Clan members

46 with one loss

105 deceased

For those remaining, not a bad idea at this point to review your picks on the spreadsheet, for two reasons: (1) make sure what you sent me matches up with what is on the sheet, and (2) to remember correctly what picks you have made.

Reminder also that Week Nine is the last week of our playoff rules repick, not that this ridiculous season is likely to get to the playoffs. Good times.

That is all.

The Root of the Week VII - Turbo Edition

The Swami is on his way out of town so a super quick blog post this week, simply to say the Swami Clan is going all in on Tennessee this week.

Because Cleveland.

It should be its own rule: when in significant doubt, Cleveland.

That is all.

Friday Taunt VII

Twenty four people stepped up to the board with Bart by their side, stinging from the loss, to write "I WILL NOT DO THE DIRTY BIRD" in powder white.

It is a season of slow bleed. There has not been any crushing week of loss, but each week has seen a consistent level of chaos -- which keeps the Reaper busy, but does not satisfy. By comparison, there are almost 50 more participants still alive this season than were at the same point last season.

At this rate, we are on pace to make it to the end of the regular season, which means the playoff rules -- rapidly approaching after Week Nine -- will be important once again.

Weekend Stats
202 participants
115 still alive
40 undefeated
75 with one loss
87 deceased

Onward we roll to Week Eight with many teams on the bye. Good luck to all those who still breathe, may your Monday morning breath be your finest yet.

That is all.

The Root of the Week VII

The Swami household is a conflicted place at present, thanks to the roll call of games slated for the weekend, Week the Seventh as it so happens. There are not many good games to choose from; it is not supposed to be this hard just seven short weeks into the season. 'Tis a veritable crap shoot, as they say.

And yet, here we are, standing upon a precipice overlooking evil match-ups, looking for the lesser and least of them all. Perhaps it is simply the season for 'lesser-of-evil' choices ... and in the end a choice must be made.

Do we break a rule and take the Bengals to beat a divisional foe? The tigermen are at home, and in the words of the immortal Ze German, "Because Cleveland." A good reason, indeed.

It is Week Seven and so there is no rule anymore about picking for or against the Chargers, but they have burned many a fine and fair bridge before. Do we follow the advice of one Mr. Bart Simpson ("I will NOT do the Dirty Bird") or do we roll with Hot-lanta and do that dirty bird all the way into next week?

Do we base our lives on bucking a trend to ride the broncos on Monday night, losers of two in a row? What was the old line about riding the bucking bronco?

Do we go farther afield, perhaps taking the Chiefs against the explosive Saints offense? Not likely. Do we roll a Titan down a merry lane, as some it seems are wont to do? Not hardly.

In the end, the conflict reigns supreme and the Swami clan will diverge and look to all hit that sweet seven on the first roll -- lest we not, and crap out. Myself, breaking rules, because Cleveland. The Factor, shaking that dirty bird. Darth, bucking the trend. Mama Bear, going fully rogue and crossing the pond to take the "home team" in Los Angeles, London.

Will the group survive? Pass the dice, please, new shooter coming out!

That is all.

Wednesday Taunt VII

A quick one this week, lots to do in advance of weekend festivities.

The Reaper took a fine week off this week, relaxing on his couch as few participants were slain. A smattering of Bills, Chargers, and Steelers losses, but nothing to write home about. Perhaps the Hooded One is prepping for a Halloween weekend of participant horror --- beware your picks for the Sunday known as All Saints Day.

That is all.

The Root of the Week VII

The masses are moving on this fine Sunday morning ... and they are moving in many different mysterious ways. Various teams on the selection platter? Vikings, Falcons, Patriots, Rams, Cardinals, Colts, Beloveds, Panthers, Chargers, Packers, Steelers, Bills, etc.

Needless to say, there will be some carnage this week. The Reaper remains on standby, as he has all season long.

Only one clan member remains as the Swami brood pins its hopes on the darkside of the force. Darth Bennett will join many other rowdy friends on Monday night and pin his hopes on the Desert Birds of Arizona.

That is all.

Thursday Taunt VII

Not so fast there, young fellas.

Every season there is one team that seems to emerge from the pack, not in terms of its dominance or its lack thereof, but for its combination of the two. The team that looks really, really good, but loses --- and in the process, takes a whole slew of Suicide Pool participants with them.

Well, my friends, most of you likely know the answer to this trivia question, having suffered anguish and defeat at their hands already . . . Seattle Seahawks, take a big bow. Notching another 26 losses last Sunday, the Seahawks have now accounted for more than one-third of all losses this year. 

Weekly Statistics
29 undefeated at 7-0
49 with one loss at 6-1
113 deceased
30 week seven losers
26 Seahawks losers

Less than 30 remain without blemish, including the Swami, Swami's spawn, and Swami's wife. Keep tabs of our picks as always on this blog, if only to try to jump on the coattails of our prognostication successes.

That is all.

The Root of the Week VII

The whole of the Swami brood is undefeated at present, a lovely and enjoyable place to be, and yet instead of rolling en masse on our picks as we have done through the first six weeks, we now will branch out on our own, seeking the elusive and majestic Trifecta win.

We begin with the Spawn, who have elected to ride the HOF arm of one Mr. Peyton Manning. The Broncos of Denver shall best the 49ers of San Francisco, whose pans will come up empty once again in Mile High.

We move next to the Factor, the beautiful spouse of Swami, who is miffed the Spawn has taken the Broncos, and instead will settle for the HOF arm of the horseshoe heir, Mr. Andrew Luck. The Colts of Indianapolis shall best the Bengals of Cincinnati, and continue the tiger tailspin.

Last, we move to the Swami himself, who always like a little Poe in his life. And so open here I fling the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, in there steps a raven of the saintly days of yore. And this raven, never flitting, still with patient perch is sitting, on the gleaming statue of the Swami by the door. And his eyes have all the seeming of that Swami who is dreaming, of the spawn and wife who family mantle burdens bore. And this raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling, on this night shall ease my plight, and yield a safely winning score.

That is all.

Thursday Taunt VII

Fifty Shades of Failure reads the epitaph for the seventh week of the Suicide Pool. Fifty fine souls, departed. Fifty men and women who waved their flags, but ring their bells no more. Fifty who found themselves on the short end of the stick.

Which brings to mind Ulysses, he of Fifty fame, to whom history has been---largely and regretfully, and wrongly---unkind, and thus also got the short end of the stick. I recommend you read about it, here or there: there is much to be learned and gleaned from the tales of history, and Grant particularly.

Weekend Stats
35 undefeated at 7-0
75 with one loss at 6-1
50 deceased

It was a wise man who said "the only new thing in the world is the history you don't know." The masses are moving, fifty have fallen, thirty-five remain unscathed with the remainder in-between. Will they heed the warnings of history or fly in the face of danger?

Will the Reaper sharpen his scythe after the quiet of Week 7? Yes, but it remains to be seen if he will get to use it.

That is all.

The Root of the Week VII

Those who are veterans of Suicide know and understand the Swami Rules for Success. One of those Rules involves the Chargers, as in:

#3 - Never pick for or against the Chargers in the first six weeks.

Well, here we are in Week Seven, and the masses are mobilizing once again on the sidelines opposite the helpless, hapless Jaguars. Which makes sense, except that this week's sideline belongs to the Chargers.

Fact: the Chargers have burned more participants in the Suicide Pool over the years than any other team. By wide margin. My own personal rule, therefore, is never pick the Chargers game.

Like, ever.

And so I will leave you all to your good luck, and roll merrily along and into Week Eight with the Packers of Green Bay. Other teams on the hot docket this week: Chiefs and Dolphins, and the occasional Patriots. Good luck to all. And now I'm off to my cheesehead.

That is all.

Tuesday Taunt VII

And just like that, the pendulum swings.

Weekly Statistics
135 participants
12 undefeateds
32 with one loss
91 deceased

One death and one death only this week, technically, suffered by the third of the Avercrombies, clearly the runt of the litter, always destined to look up at the undefeated first born. The referenced technically regards Wick and Chick, who also fall below the line as neither Wick nor Chick recognized they doubled up the Dirty Birds, and so down they go.

For the rest of the masses, this week was like a breath of fresh air, a long swig of water in the midst of the desert, or perhaps following the line of the pendulum, much like a certain unnamed narrator* who feels the red hot walls closing in, pushing him towards the edge and the abyss, and only just as he stumbles and starts to fall, knowing death is coming, does the merciful hand of the French Army take hold, pulling him back to safety.

Will we find more mercy in the bosom of Week Eight? I doubt it. There is usually calm before great storm, and this has been a tempestuous season, indeed.

Into the fray we go again, dear friends.

That is all.

.

.

*It's Poe again, people. Did none of you read anything in college?

The Root of the Week VII

Yet another week is upon us with choices galore, and none of them good. The masses are moving in different directions entirely, some having already struck gold with the 49ers, others riding bareback on the Colts, still more pledging their allegiance to the Patriots, a bold handful going rogue with the Raiders, several Cheeseheads, a pair of Giants, a Boys-lover, a Texans-taker, and one entire family hibernating until Monday with the Bears.

As for the Swami and the Factor and the Spawn, we also have divided our interests: the young ones feel a little Lucky, what woman doesn't love Tom Brady, and I have decided to be the only participant, Second Life or otherwise, to back the resurgent Bills.

That is all.

The Root of the Week VI

My apologies to those few of you who perished on the Steelers this past Thursday. Still, once again, picking teams on the road is a sure-fire way to reach your Second Life.

We've got another monster brewing in Week Six, with the masses flying high with the Dirty Birds. In years past I would not think much of such a week, prepping my dialogue for the eventuality that was everyone moving forward safely, but this is 2012, the year of chaos and destruction, the year of upset death, and so.

And so I tread warily upon the commentary this week. The Swami Curse has crushed many a poor participant this year, and I know the power of my words. More to the point is the fact that I, too, in Second Life, and the Spawn and Factor in Suicide, are also rolling Hot-lanta style. We move forward, or perish, together.

That is all.