The Root of the Week XVII

What to do, what to do? The befuddled masses make their final stand of the regular season, and methinks there will be some death dealt this week.

With a roster of teams that includes the Saints, Titans, Steelers, Chargers, and Giants, plus a handful of bolder playoff-burning Seahawks and Patriots selections, how can there not be? That sound you hear in the back of your mind is the Reaper polishing the scythe.

How many will toe the playoff line? The answers await on the Sunday flipside.

That is all.

Thursday Taunt XVI

The finish line is near. A very boring Week Sixteen yielded no losses, and brings 18 brave souls to the last lap before extra innings, to muddle several sports themes together.

Three undefeateds remain. Will they reach the finish line unscathed? A tough Week Seventeen stands in their way.

That is all.

Thursday Taunt XV

There is a statement to be made, as per the usual, with the photographic choice attached to this post. No, there are not the skid marks left on the bodies of those deceased, nor those left in the unmentionables of those who narrowly escaped defeat this past weekend (ahem, the Raiders, really?).

Rubber, meet Road.

Yes, this is the time of year when the rubber meets the road, where the seriousness of Suicide events casts long shadows and consumes all manner of thought for those who remain.

Six took losses in the Suicide, with four perishing for the final time. We are down to three undefeateds---including the Mad Dog, who has strung together successive successful seasons---and fifteen one-loss participants, including perennially successful Chuck Dis, CB, and Back Nine Ben.

The Second Life saw two-thirds (67%) of the group bite the bullet, or eat the pavement as the analogy goes for this particular post. We're all squared up in Second Life---no undefeateds remain, with eleven battling out for the scraps of Suicide.

Choice and consequence, and the checkered flag in sight. 'Tis the season.

That is all.

The Root of the Week XV

Ah, yes, everyone loves the Beloveds in Week Fifteen. The Saints and the Lions, too, and perhaps a smattering of others, but the heavy action lies in Miamiland.

Which means the majority will undoubtedly move on unscathed, as surely the Fish is mightier than the Jag.

The Swami and his minions no longer survive, and so while there is no official Root, the masses have their own roots to encourage.

We will see how much energy the masses have left, as we draw down these last weeks of the regular season.

That is all.

Thursday Taunt XIV

Well, that went well.

For those of you, and it was most of you, who rode the Seahawks this weekend, 'twas an enjoyable flight. The game was in doubt for all of about two minutes.



Week 14 Statistics
135 participants
5 undefeateds
17 with one loss
113 dearly departed

Little carnage, therefore, to speak of. I am beginning to yearn for those bygone days of yore, when the Reaper walked among you making liberal use of his scythe. You know, like Weeks Two and Three.

I'll say this, with three weeks left in the regular season, and few viable options available without burning teams for the playoffs, I have a feeling someone is sitting by his roaring hearth, polishing up his steel, preparing for his return.

That is all.

.

.

.

*Congrats to one of this week's departed, Abercrombie and Fitz, who won the Dec 09 history challenge. In her words, a nice "consolation prize".

The Root of the Week XIV

On this most revered and holiest of days, December 09, the 344th day of this leapt year, in which there are scant 12 days remaining before the extinction of man and, barring that, 22 days before the dawn of the new year, it is perhaps most fitting to bring you, the masses, our participants, my degenerates, a history lesson.

Notables brought forth on this day, those who share kindred Swami spirits, include the great Milton of Paradise, a saintly Peruvian, Harris and his Uncle Remus, the Muse of Automatic Writing, the father of Babar, Spartacus, M, Teddy KGB, and the Swami himself.

And now, in the great and glorious tradition of putting those around oneself to work on needless tasks, a competition: the participant who first emails me the names of each person listed above, their true and given name, will receive one free entry to the Suicide Pool next year.

Regarding the pool, the action moves in myriad ways again, though the Seahawks seem the have the devil's share. Bucs, 49ers, Colts, Bengals, and even the Browns make their way into Suicide or Second Life, and I'm sure there will be more to follow.

As for this new competition, to the pair of you likely to expend the effort, I just want to tell you both good luck, we're all counting on you.

That is all.

Tuesday . . . er, Friday Taunt XIII

Can you feel it?

It begins with a ringing in your ears, subtle at first, but slowly gaining strength and rising until the high-pitched squeal is nearly overwhelming.

You feel it next on your face, the burning sensation, the heaving, breathless, breathing flames on the side of your face, the heat and fire rolling around to engulf you ears.

The sweat follows, the beads of moisture welling up at the hairline, sliding down from the collarbone, percolating at the back of your neck.

You pass a hand across your brow. You run your fingers through your hair. You loosen the collar, or perhaps tug on the shirt to air yourself out . . . but there is no release. The ringing continues unabated, the fires rage, and the sweat now just has new avenues to travel, past nape and neck, past shoulder blades, past cleavage.

Can you feel it?

The pressure mounts. The noose tightens. The faint of heart cower low in their beds. Who will falter, who will fall, who will rise up and claim destiny's mantle?

Twenty-five and four weeks remain. The end is nigh.

That is all.

The Root of the Week XIII

For those who've survived long enough to see this point of the season in past years, which we lovingly call Marino Week in the Suicide Pool, you will know how ridiculous the pool becomes in the waning weeks of the regular season.

For those who are new, good luck to you. This is where the hair-pulling gets really intense.

Case in point: the first eight emails I received with picks had eight different teams selected. Bills, Jets, Chargers, Panthers, Broncos, Cowboys, 49ers, Packers, Lions, Patriots, Ravens. The Spawn? Slot them on the Raiders.

Light has struck, and the masses have scattered for cover. And so the only thing there is really for you to do, mister or missus surviving participant, is to hope and pray to whatever or whomever you pray to that the team you have selected survives. It's the only way to fly in Marino Week.

As I said, good luck to you.

That is all.

Thursday Taunt XII

Two weeks in a row we've had limited action. Apparently, the masses had much to be thankful for this past weekend, a two-week respite being most prominently at the fore.

Four deaths, two per pool, and the answer to two plus two is boredom. In Suicide, the Iceman falleth and Abercrombie shed its second skin, while in Second Life, it seems only Titans can Mess With Marissa.

I seek chaos; this you know. However, there was minor guilt in the early stages of the pool as so many perished quickly, and brutally. For scant weeks there I actually enjoyed your successes. No longer.

Five weeks left in the regular season means the gloves come off, the noose tightens, and like the gods of old unleashing the fury of the sea-faring beast, so too will the Swami unleash the fatality of the Reaper. We have some excess baggage to shed en route to the Wild Card rounds. We will shed them in Marino Week.

Oh yes, there will be blood.

That is all.

The Root of the Week XII

Ladies and gentlemen, I am feeling introspective, and I want to introspect.

If one was to wonder just why, oh why this season of Suicide has been so ridiculous, one could do much worse for oneself than to look upon the graphic provided above. It is quite clear that tremendous parity reigns in the NFL at present, which is why the past two seasons have seen such heartbreak and devastation.

For those who say to themselves, yes there is some parity in the NFL, but not really because New England and Pittsburgh have made the playoffs nearly every year for the past decade or longer, allow me to enlighten, and I will do so without bringing Jeff Goldblum's Ian Malcolm into the equation.

Fact: no matter how neutral something is, variations will exist. Flip a coin ten times. Eventually, either the first time or the 100th or the 1000th, eventually you will come up tails ten times in a row. Doesn't mean the coin is bad. Probabilities and statistics dictate that it will happen. New England and Pittsburgh are the variations. The Bills and Browns swing the variation pendulum back the other way. Everyone else lies somewhere in the middle, grinding it out.

Speaking of the Browns, I know the masses find no comfort in knowing, per the graphic above, that the Bengals are responsible for one of only two Cleveland wins in 2012. The Bengals, it seems, are highly regarded this week, Spawn included. The Broncos and Colts have a handful, as well, but the tiger in the grass is thought to be deadliest.

We shall see in what way the previous statement holds true.

That is all.

Tuesday Taunt XI

Not one loss this week. Not one. Like Neo of old, the bullet dodging was on an epic scale. The Cleveland Browns scattered buckshot, most of it connected, and yet still the Boys survived. Given the Root posting for this week, continuing the theme, I had an image of Ike Clanton galloping away as he lets fly his red sash.

The horsemen let you all go last week. Perhaps it was the upcoming holidays. Perhaps they wanted you all to feel good about Thanksgiving, maybe go out, eat some food, spend some money, etc.

The Swami knows better.

This is but a calm before the Week 12 storm. There are no easy picks, particular when you must consider the playoff implications. There will be no Neo there to stop the bullets for you. There will be blood this week, and I will drink your milkshake.

I drink it up.

That is all.

The Root of the Week XI

I'm your Huckleberry.

Far be it from me to tell all of you what to do, but in keeping it short and sweet, you all's crazy. Yes, I get it, the Browns are the football franchise equivalent of a Rodney Dangerfield-Lindsay Lohan love child, totally fracked with absolutely no respect. But really? Really?

You believe in the Romo and Jerry show that much, to the tune of all but a small handful riding with Curly Bill, donning the red sash? Well, I'm sorry, but there has got to be some law; you've called down the thunder, now you've got it. Make no mistake, it's not a reckoning I'm after, it's devastation. 

To quote Johnny Ringo, an educated man, "Eventus stultorum magister." Translation: Now I've got two guns. One for each of ya.

That is all.

.

.

.

PS - The Spawn will ride the Skins. What better week to be a Redskin than when the rest of the field is a Cowboy?

Tuesday Taunt X

I considered leading off with my old standby "Error 404" message, given my own technical issues with phone and computer this week, some of which are still ongoing. Unfortunate, but true. The Swami expects all will be well on the morrow, and so the official email update will not get out until Thursday night, sadly enough, but sadder still the moment will be for those who will be forced, upon its release, to relive the past weekend.

A tie is a loss in the Suicide Pool.

Let us flashback to Philadelphia 2009, when one not-so-young Donovan McNabb was quarterbacking the Iggles to glory and greatness---yeah, not so much. The last tie in the NFL sent a ripple through Suicide, as the language was not explicit enough and yours truly was pressed into fancy-foot-working and decision-making. All ended well, and well ended was the lack of clarity in the rules.

Which have since expressly stated that a tie is a loss, as several of you (read: 7 apx) most painfully discovered via the fools gold of the San Francisco 49ers. 

I will not mention the near devastation caused on Monday night, as it still pains me greatly with thoughts of what could have been with a meltdown of Steel. Several persons took their own pain to South Beach, as well---but the heavens know best how to salve my own pain sprung from a Beloved loss . . . and that is to take multiple participants down with them, both in the Suicide Pool and, most extraordinarily given the margin of victory, the Second Life. Even in defeat, my Beloveds make me proud.

That is all. 

The Root of the Week X

Ah, the glory of the orange and teal.

It seems more than myself will cheerlead the Beloveds this weekend, as they hold court at home versus the Titans of Tennessee. The Factor and the Spawn shall place their faith in the Fish, as well as Swami in Second Life, along with many of you. The Beloveds are on the up-and-up, and praise be to Philbin and all his merry men for bringing the sunshine back to the tip of the Sunshine State.

Let's look for a little Bush in the end zone this week, shall we? You know Curtis Armstrong will be watching, digging deep.

As for the rest of you, the root is on for Steel City this week, and you'll all have to wait until Monday night to watch them disassemble the hapless Chiefs. And for those not paying attention, Romeo Crennel has vowed to bench any player who commits a turnover; I'm not entirely sure how many men he'll have left by quarter four.

That is all.

The Root of the Tuesday Taunt

Like a hand lifted to the heavens, and touched by divinity in response, the prayers of the masses were answered this week. A few tidbits before the normal course of dialogue begins:

1) No official Root last week, as Cheese State travels precluded a timely update. It happens, and on a week such as this, as you will see, it matters little.

2) I shall not wax political on this blog, but in short, good luck to us.

3) We now enter Week 10, which means, for those paying attention at home, any team selected from here on out may not be reused again in the playoffs, or any other time. As per the rules, any team used from Weeks 1-9 may be used again if, and only if, you make the playoffs post Week 17.

Now, the normal course . . . which I have decided will be brief this week, given the fact that there were, astoundingly, no losses. None. Zip. Zilch. Zero.

Not a soul suffered defeat in either Suicide or Second Life, despite the selection of ten different teams: the Texans, Packers, Seahawks, Ravens, Broncos, Lions, Bucs, Bears, Falcons, and yes, even the Chargers came home for the participants in Week 09.

Results like this past weekend's have been few and far between the past handful of years, given the growing and striking parity of the NFL, but every now and then the sun does break through the clouds to shine upon the dejected few who remain.

Will the sun still shine in Week Ten? Will the Reaper make his glorious return? Will the divine reach down to touch us all once more? These answers and more to come as we ascend the circular staircase, look down at the elaborate tile below, and mark the elusive spot with a great big "X".

That is all.

Tuesday Taunt (Thursday Morning Edition)

Inactivity is the art of enjoying oneself without doing anything. Week Eight was quite inactive.

Only four fall, though two do fall from the ranks of the unbeaten, which gives us:

Weekly Statistics

135 participants

10 undefeated

42 with one loss

93 dead.

The Chargers claim two more victims, both rookies, who have yet to memorize and understand the Suicide lore. There is little more to say on the matter, as we wait for Week Nine and a return to the chaos that has defined this season.

That is all.

The Root of the Week VIII

It seems that everybody is a Cheesehead this week. I have not taken an official survey, but the group has spoken, and anyone who has the Bay of Green left in the tank for Week Eight has tapped that reserve, and tapped it hard.

This includes the Spawn and the Factor, and for those uneducated few, or those for whom the Swami life and culture references fly far, far above, the Spawn and Factor are the offspring and mate of the Swami, respectively.

In other words, the Packers hold the fate of the masses in their hands, not to mention the Swami himself in the Second Life. I suppose there are worse hands to be in that those of Aaron Rodgers. At least, that's what Destiny Newton tells us.

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.

Thursday Taunt VI

The Dirty Dozen.

There are twelve undefeateds remaining, six short weeks in. There are forty-six participants in total, six short weeks in. By comparison, the numbers were 22/95 at this stage last year, the 2011 campaign, which everyone thought was a tough year of universal devastation and pain en masse.

This year makes 2011 look like a children's choir singing Kumbaya.

Weekend Statistics

135 participants

12 undefeateds

34 with one loss

89 participants dead

15 week six losers

Fifteen more souls depart, and there is no Second Life for them to turn to. They enter that gray twilight, that sad purgatory that exists between football pool death and the following pre-season. It is a long, sad time, and we wish you well.

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.

Tuesday Taunt V

Weekend Statistics
61 participants
14 undefeateds
47 with one loss
14 week five losers

Oh, what a woeful group the losers are this week. Some fourteen in all, the general sentiment is that those who perished need not have perished, and deserve their defeat.

Why, you ask? Of what sin and woe doth the Swami speak?

Packers, Chargers, Bengals. Do not pick teams on the road. Do not pick the Chargers before Week Six. Do not pick against my Beloveds.

All of this is known, and yet . . . and yet . . . fourteen of you tempted fate. Fourteen souls got lost in the dark, not knowing or not caring to know, not following the Suicide law, and as such, fourteen souls perished. A sad day, but no one will ask why.

Which leaves us with 61 participants still standing, less than one-half the field only five weeks in, with lots more football to play. Perhaps playoff strategy begins to melt as week-to-week survival moves to the fore.

That is all.

The Root of the Week V

"I am born again, and live a second life."

So sayeth the Swami, and a handful of others who find new lease on life with the 1st Annual Swami Second Life Pool.

Not to be confused with the brave souls who still diligently strive for success and glory in the Suicide Pool, and contrary to common question, never the twain shall meet. In separation infinitus.

The Swami rides the coattails of the Spawn this week, plopping my Second Life down on what lies at the top of the beanstalk, along with my little deductions --- and my yang, as it happens. The other members of the Swami ride Coughlin's brood in Week Five, as well.

Action on the G-Men, the 49ers, the Texans, the Vikings, and a host of other teams much likelier to lose. Week Five in 2011 was brutal on the Giants; perhaps the chaos will reign again in 2012, though it is unlikely.

Strap on your cap, buckle your belt, and grab your wooden club as we roll into Week Five, Fo Fum, where I smell the end of this meaningless pun.

That is all.

Tuesday Taunt IV

Weekend Statistics

135 participants
17 undefeateds
56 with one loss
62 deceased
5 week four losers

Perhaps you think it's time to get comfortable. Have a seat on the couch, put the feet up, grab a cold one, slip a hand in. Perhaps, by virtue of one successful week of football.

Sadly, you are mistaken.

Like Phil and the Jam of Pearl, I can feel it coming, and the Swami is never wrong. Week Five was an E.L.E. in 2011. What will the coming weekend bring?

Someone call Morgan Freeman. I'm headed for the caves.

That is all. 

The Root of the Week IV (Sunday Edition)

Dare you watch this weekend, knowing what carnage has come before?

The action flows four ways, on Broncos and Falcons, on Texans and Cardinals. The latter is most susceptible to failure, going against my Beloveds.

The Thursday horse has already come home, with many flying high with the Ravens, looking forward to Week Five.

For those left scrapping, here's hoping the stress does not sabotage your Sunday. For those soon-to-be or recently deceased, the Second Life Pool beckons, and beckons soon.

That is all.

Memories of a Time Not-So-Long Past

Well, I’ve done worse than getting bounced from the Pool in week three.  A few years ago I'd barely scrubbed the Labor Day hamburger grease off the grill when I caught the shimmer of the Reaper’s scythe reflecting off the Weber Genesis. "You gotta be kidd –“ is all I could utter before the swift end came.  Zing!  Oh-for-two.

At least this year I had a fleeting moment of glory way back in mid-September – pre-Jay Cutler’s teammates hating him – when the Bears steamrolled the Colts.  I was young and rebellious then; a cocky kid full of reckless abandon.  Ah… my halcyon days.  The memories are mostly faded now but I recall it as a simpler, more innocent time.  When high school refs could fulfill their dream of officiating NFL games.

But there will come a day when I can live again.  A day when I can accept an inept Cardinals offense outscoring Tom Brady and the Pats.  A day when I can wrap my head around the Saints blowing an 18-point lead against the Chiefs.  Yes.  I'll live again.  Maybe round about, oh, week five perhaps.

Congrats to those few who’ve made it through this three-week gauntlet still intact.  Well done.

-- Shapeshifter

The Root of Week IV (Thursday Edition)

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 their plight, and bear them past Week Four*.

That is all.

.

.

.

.

.

*The Spawn and Factor, and whole lot of other people.

Tuesday Taunt III

'Tis far, far too early for the Reaper to make his annual appearance on the pages of the Suicide blog, but it is safe to say that there will be no worse weekend for the participants of 2012 than that most recently ended, and so.

The scythe was swift and brutal, and lopped off a full on-third of the remaining field. 51 were ended for the second and final time, including for the earliest showing of his distinguished career, the Swami himself.

It should be mentioned that of the Swami, the Factor, and the Swami Spawn, only the Spawn remain undefeated. Which makes less than no sense, given the first-grade mentality of the selectors. Literally.

Weekly Statistics

135 participants
90 week three losers
18 undefeated
60 with one loss
57 deceased

Week Three came close to the record-setting Week Five of 2011, when 92 perished, but the argument can be made that this weekend was worse; most of the 2011 losses were first-timers. The second death for 51 makes the Reaper a very happy hell-spawn, and so.

I have no expectation for Week Four. In truth, perhaps those perished can breathe a sigh of relief, knowing they must not wade into the waters of this ridiculous season once more. Perhaps the old saying fits, and the living truly do envy the dead*.

That is all.

.

.

*Of course, those dead do get a second shot at life with the Swami's Second Life Pool. See post below for more details and watch for the forthcoming email.

Monday Mayhem & the Phoenix Rising

Let us be clear on one thing before the rest: this season, the 2012 NFL season, is stupid. Ridiculous stupid. WTF stupid. "Who-the-hell-knows-what-is-happening-here" stupid.

A synonym for stupid is dumb, and we all know there's two kinds of dumb: the guy that gets naked, runs out into the snow, and barks at the moon, and the guy who does the same thing in my living room. The first one doesn't matter; the second you're forced to deal with.

There was devastation en masse again in Week Three. There were perhaps five relatively safe picks to be made, and two considered locks. Both locks lost. Three of the five lost. And there was glorious chaos as a result.

I don't have the final figures, but it is entirely possible that this week tops the previous record of 92 deaths in Week Five of last season, when the Seahawks went cross-country and torched the Giants. By virtue of the 49ers, Saints, and Steelers, the 2012 Suicide Pool is in shambles.

Which pleases me, as you know how much I enjoy devastation. It provides fodder for excellent commentary, and my word-smithery knows no bounds. 

And yet . . . and yet . . . three weeks is too soon. Too soon for so many to perish.

And so like the Phoenix of old rising from the ashes, reborn, remade, made whole, so too will there be grace granted to the Suicide Pool participants of 2012. You will not be remade, no, but you will be offered a second lease on life. A second life, if you will.

Announcing the first ever Swami Suicide Second Life Pool, offered only and exclusively to those participants in the main event this year. It is offered to all participants, even those still alive in the main event. It will be a separate pool, however; there will be no cross-over.

Details are forthcoming, but I can drop the following tidbits: (1) we will begin in Week 5; (2) playoff rules will be the same as the main event; (3) you can enter up to 3 times, with $20 for 1, $40 for 2, and $50 for 3; (4) you will get two losses, BUT if your first loss comes with a deficit of MORE THAN 14 points, you are knocked out of the pool entirely, so choose well.

It seems the Swami has a heart after all. My benevolence, as well, knows no bounds.

That is all.

The Root of the Week III

Back in the saddle for the 70 strong who succumbed in Week Two, save for the 6 poor souls who perished entirely.

The heavy action flows two ways this week. Yes, we have a few moving to their own beat, perhaps on the Bears or the Boys or Steel City, but the majority has spoken, and the masses are moving forward with god and with gold.

The 49ers are road-bound, and while playing an inferior team from lake country, the NFL road is fraught with peril. Therefore, there will be no flowers in my hair this week.

Which leaves the holy option, and like Joliet Jake, I have seen the light.

That is all.

Tuesday Taunt II

In a great show of compassion, I have delayed posting the results of this past weekend's action until this moment, to let some of the pain subside.

And, oh, what pain there was.

Like Camden of old, the revolutionaries took defeat resoundingly---64 souls perished on the Patriots in Week Two. Toss in a handful of Raiders, Vikings, Cowboys, and Redskins, and you have 70 participants set to see their shining lights with one more loss.

Six, sadly, are already bathing within it. We say goodbye to the Uno Dos, Adios crew of 2012: Mad Dog 02, J-Ro 01, J-Ro 04, Bubbas 02, Daddy's Long Legs, and Bennett, Not My Son. We bid you adieu.

The Swami himself was a casualty this week, though the Factor and the Spawn move on unscathed. So, too, were at least four recent winners of the Suicide Pool, all perishing at the shoelaces of Stephen Gostkowski. 

Weekend Results
135 participants
57 undefeateds
72 with one loss
6 deceased

Things just got real.

That is all.

The Root of the Week II

I only have one question for the masses of participants on the majority pick this week: is that the red or the white?

Oh, yes, there are a handful of other selections. The Texans again campaign with a few votes in the bag, the Giants and Steelers have a scant handful of admirers, and even the Bengals drew a little love against the lowly Browns--despite that being a divisional game.

Lest we not forget the Swami's Rules for Greatness. There are only three: (1) Never pick the Chargers before Week Six (2) Never pick a team on the road (3) Never pick a team playing within its own division. So good luck to you, Bengals-riders; that Tiger, she is a fickle mistress.

As for my own soothsayings this particular week, the second as it happens to be, I shall leave you with this: the Frost way tends to be one of the surest paths to Suicide loss. Not one to travel once traveled by ways, the path I choose tends to be of my own devising, and yet . . . and yet . . . the spread is 13.

I'll take that any day of the week, and twice on Sunday.

That is all.

The Return of the Tuesday Taunt

There are 32 professional football teams in the NFL. Half of 32 is 16. And 16 is the number of teams chosen by participants this past weekend, the opening frame, of the Suicide Pool.

Half the field of available options.

Does this speak to parity in the NFL? Distrust of rookie quarterbacks? Distrust of replacement officials? Is our collective mentally deficient? Are teams of monkeys throwing [censored] at a board, just to see what sticks?

In order of popularity: Texans, Bears, Lions, Eagles, Saints, Ravens, Patriots, Falcons, Jets, Vikings, 49ers, Cardinals, Steelers, Giants, Panthers, Seahawks. I'm not gonna lie, you people is nuts.

The lion roared well enough for the Swami this weekend, and the Spawn, and the Factor survived her ridiculous Vikings pick*, moving the whole cadre unscathed into Week Two. Joining us are 117 others, as we managed to avoid devastation ala Week One of 2011. In a shocking coincidence, not one person took Cleveland this year.

Weekly Statistics
134 participants
120 undefeateds
16 teams chosen
14 week one losers

We're off and running with Suicide 2012, with a total of 134 participants on the rolls. Who will be standing when the dust settles? Swami curses can't help, nor can mindless weekly selection, both of which I expect will accrue over the course.

That is all.

*It looked good on you, though, Mr. Dis.

The Root of the Week I

Ladies and gentlemen, honored guests, compatriots, colleagues, competitors, and friends, I bid you welcome to another great and glorious year of the Suicide Pool.

It is customary at this time for the host, yours truly, to wax poetic on the wonders of football and the delights of gambling degeneration, the perils and pleasures of weekly team selection. It is customary, but not required, and despite this being the first week, this week I will not.

There are some of you who are new to the Pool, and thus have not had the benefit of my dialogue-ing ways, nor have you come to understand those things in this life I hold most dear. It is quite simple really.

Family. Friends. Fish.

There are many of you, however, who know this deep and soulful truth. There are many of you, any of you who have found the Suicide Pool in past years, who know of my Beloveds, the Miami Dolphins.

And yet you pick against them.

You pick against them, and risk the Swami wrath, and so I shall lay down one of my infamous, diabolical, delicious soothsayer curses: let it be known emphatically at this time that no veteran participant of the Pool who has chosen to ride the Texans in Week One will find themselves standing at the end, when the dust settles, when the champion is crowned. So sayeth the Swami. You have brought this upon yourselves.

Let us now move on to more pleasant topics. For those who are new, there are two staples of the Suicide Pool blog: the Root of the Week and the Tuesday Taunt. In the former, the Swami lays down his weekly pick in advance of Sunday play, as well as the trending popular selections. In the latter, he taunts all those who perished the weekend prior. The Swami* loves chaos, and relishes it.

In classic Week One style, we've got multiple teams on the docket: Texans (boo), Lions, Eagles, Bears, Vikings, Panthers, Saints, Ravens, Seahawks, Jets, Patriots, and Falcons, among others. In other words, the situation is ripe; not all will move unscathed to Week Two. Where does the allegiance of the Swami lie, you ask? Methinks the Big Kitties chow down on the Lunchables of St Louis.

And so, without further ado, I declare this season of Suicide officially open . . . and they're off.

That is all.

*The Swami promises to only sporadically refer to himself in the third person. It shall only be doled out in small doses.

We Wait All Year for Sunday Night

My friends, my beautiful friends, friends of years, friends of tears, it has come upon us once again. The time has come, and the moment we have waited long, very sad months for has finally arrived---the return of the NFL Suicide Pool, and yours truly.

The excitement is potent, palatable, and pure as most participants look to salve the wounds of 2011 with triumph and glory in 2012, and as such once again we expect a record-breaking field when the dust settles post-Week One.

Let us dispense with the pleasantries, therefore, and get down to brass tax; when Faith dons the leather, you know she means business. For those with questions, and there are always quite a few, this post shall serve as a reference point for the Rules and Regulations of the 2012 Swami Suicide Pool.

NFL Suicide Pools have a simple premise: you pick the winner of one single NFL game each week (straight up, no point spreads) and if the team you choose wins their game, you advance to the next week. 

If your team loses, you take a loss, and in the Swami's Suicide Pool two losses eliminates you from competition. You may not pick the same team twice during the regular season (see below for special playoff rules). There are additional details, of course, which are outlined below, but the above is the general gist of things.

That's it, although you are still highly encouraged to read the following in-depth breakdown in its entirety, even those who are experienced Swami Suicide Pool veterans.

(1) Entries - Each participant may enter a minimum of one (1) and a maximum of five (5) entries.

(2) Picks - You pick the winner of a single NFL game each week. No point spreads are involved, which means you pick the straight-up winner. Please note that ties count as losses. Kindly email your weekly picks to SwamiSuicidePool@gmail.com.

(3) Deadline -You must get your pick in by the start of your chosen team’s game (kick-off). If you neglect to send a pick in a given week, the default pick is the home team for the Monday night game. If you have already used that team, the Monday night visiting team is your selection. If you have already used both teams, you lose.

(4) Format - This is a double-elimination tournament; you are allowed one loss. Uno, dos, adios!

(5) Disputes - If rule clarifications or amendments are required mid-season (unlikely) or in the event of disputes (also unlikely), all decisions made by the Swami are final.

(6) Updates - An update email will be sent each week with the number of surviving players, the coming week's schedule of games, and pick selections from the previous weeks. The update will usually come on Tuesday, although the Swami reserves the right to stretch it later into the week, if needed. You can also check this blog for the update.

(7) Playoffs - The playoff structure for 2012 is identical to the 2011 and 2010 formats. Starting in Week Ten (10) of the regular season, any team chosen by a participant is NOT eligible to be selected in the playoffs, where the standard Suicide Rules will apply (i.e. you select one team to win per weekend playoff round). Teams chosen in Weeks One thru Nine (1-9) will be available to be re-selected in the playoffs.

Kindly address questions to the Swami at SwamiSuicidePool@gmail.com.

And so I will leave you all for the time being, as we prepare for the first game of the season this very Wednesday night, when the New York Giants host the Dallas Cowboys and the 2012 campaign kicks off. You still have time to enter, of course; not a sole has picked the game, and it's unlikely anyone will. You have a few days left, to strategize, to theorize, to agonize, before the bell rings and the horses leave the gate.

Let the Swami ride again.

That is all.

Suicide Pool 2012.