It's Marino week. Let us all take a moment to reflect upon the best arm in the business ... Alright, on to the more important matters at hand.
We have three and thirteen in Week 13, three undefeateds and thirteen one lossers. There is more pressure on the remaining participants than the derrier of Cameron Frye. This includes the masses rooting for the Rams of St. Louis, the prevailing pick, as well as the Swami Spawn, who pins her American Girl doll purchase fates on the Lone Star state this weekend, in the form of JJ Watt and his glorious Texans.
Run, Arian, run.
That is all.
It is really getting down to hard-to-watch time. There is no easy game this season in the National Football League, no clearly defined team who will carry a participant to victory with absolutely certainty. Brady's Pats? Rolling now but have been inconsistent. Manning's Mile High Club? Capable of laying a midwestern egg. Defending Champion Seahawks? Responsible for more losses than any other this year.
There is nowhere to run. There is nowhere to hide. Miraculously, however, most of our merry little band of remaining players made it past Week Twelve. We bid adieu, sadly, to three poor souls who held onto Saintly, Chiefly hopes.
Including DADY, the defending Suicide Pool Champion.
Week Twelve Stats
3 undefeated at 12-0
13 with one loss at 11-1
176 deceased
We have come to Marino Week, which also happens to coincide with the Giving of Thanks Day, and so on this fine evening, when the Reaper takes leave of our midst and travels round to scythe many a turkey in advance of the feast, I wish all a very, quite Happy Thanksgiving.
That is all.
Time to push the chips in. We enter Week 12 already down two more who drop kicked the bucket via the Chiefs on Thursday night, which means 17 faithful souls enter battle on the morrow. Shuffle up and deal.
The masses have little choices left and everyone is taking their sweet time getting me picks, so not much is known going in on who is taking whom, but the update will come Monday to ease the minds of those who need to know.
Spawn is the only Swami clanswoman left standing, and standing she is well as one of three unscathed. Tomorrow she hopes to ride off into the sunset on the back of a fine filly, powered by the arm of a little Luck.
The Colts, it is.
That is all.
In the words of the immortal Al Swearengen, "bloodletting on my premises that I ain't approved I take as a ****ing affront. It puts me off my feed."
Make no mistake, Week Eleven was a bloodletting, like some medieval doctor strapped 24 participants to a chair and took out the needle and the knife. It hurt, bad, and our numbers are nearly halved: 17 of the 26 one loss teams went down to defeat, and dropped below the line --- including yours truly, and the bells you hear ringing in that far off place sound the knell of the Swami himself.
The undefeateds took it even harder on the chin, with seven of ten taking their first loss. We now have only a trio of unscathed souls: Pillow Connoisseur and Shiner, both veterans of the pool, and the Spawn of Swami, my own flesh and blood --- who happens to be a 9-year-old girl.
And so we arrive at Week Twelve, noticeably thinner, with pressures mounting and good options dwindling. When the majority take the Redskins, you know your good options are dwindling.
To those who remain, in the words of Al Swearengen, "pain or damage don't end the world, or despair, or ****ing beatin's. The world ends when you're dead. Until then, you got more punishment in store. Stand it like a man ... and give some back."
That is all.
On this fine Sunday of glorious Week Eleven, the schizophrenia is starting to set in. The masses are moving far and wide in a variety of dangerous directions as the group seeks to avoid the Reaper and survive another round.
The Beloveds already have their playoff-import win in the bag, and I will thank very much those of you who tuned in Thursday, and so now the rest of the field follows with a slate filled with intriguing NFL playoff possible matchups featuring some of the best teams in the league pitted against one another.
Which is great for ratings, but not so great for you. The list of selected teams reads like a who's-who of averageness: Redskins, Steelers, Saints, Browns.
Of course, then there are the Swami selections. At this point it becomes nearly impossible not to break a few rules, and the Swami and Spawn will each break rules this week. The Spawn will throw caution to the wind and take the Super Chargers in a division match, while the Swami himself --- in what actually should be the safest pick of the wick --- will ride the Broncos to greatness as they travel to Arch City.
Good luck to all as our merry band of 36 survivors rolls on.
That is all.
The Swami has fallen. A special thank you to the NFL Replay officiating booth, who saw fit to uphold a call on the Jimmy Graham Hail Mary touchdown non-catch that is, by measure of every official except -- apparently -- the five on the field in New Orleans on Sunday, never to be made, thereby extending the game into overtime ... and leading to the Swami's first loss.
No matter, you cannot win your own pool in any event. I'm always shooting for a comfortable bronze medal finish. Suicide Rook, Beginners Luck, and Man About Autumn will know how much I enjoy those.
Still, I am alive, which is more than can be said for the seven who went quietly into that good night. Only 36 now remain with 10 undefeated, and the noose begins to tighten and the pressure begins to mount.
Our ten-spot of undefeateds include six Suicide Pool veterans, including two past winners, plus a rookie, two members of Clan Titus, and a nine year-old girl, the Swami's own spawn.
Special Swami powers will go to those who elect to watch and root for the Beloveds on Thursday Night Football this very night, powers which might just be enough to turn the tide in your favor this weekend. Like the lobster thermador, I highly recommend it, senor.
That is all.
In honor of Poe and his Raven, whose flock is being asked to shepherd a great mass of participants safely into Week Eleven, musings from the man himself.
"Men have called me mad; but the question is not yet settled, whether
madness is or is not the loftiest intelligence -- whether much that is
glorious -- whether all that is profound -- does not spring from disease of
thought -- from moods of mind exalted at the expense of the general
intellect.
There are two bodies -- the rudimental and the complete -- corresponding
with the two conditions of the worm and the butterfly. What we call
"death," is but the painful metamorphosis. Our present incarnation is
progressive, preparatory, temporary. Our future is perfected, ultimate,
immortal. The ultimate life is the full design.
They who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night.
It is more than probable that I am not
understood; but I fear, indeed, that it is in no manner possible to
convey to the mind of the merely general reader, an adequate idea of
that nervous intensity of interest with which, in my case, the powers of
meditation (not to speak technically) busied and buried themselves, in
the contemplation of even the most ordinary objects of the universe.
It will be found, in fact, that the ingenious are always fanciful, and the truly imaginative never otherwise than analytic."
Poe speaks truly, like the Swami was seated before him asking for a personally evaluative oratory. Swami speaks truly, as well, and expects scores of participants to look for the Ravens to come knocking on victory's door this weekend. However, and despite the obviousness of the Ravens pick, there will be no Ravensing for the Swami and his clan.
I feel the holy light of heaven's army upon me, and whilst they have struggled mightily, so too hast their opponent, and the old adage holds as true today as it did years ago: "why root for one Harbrother when there is another to root against?"
And so the Swami will lay down with the Saints, and hope for divine inspiration at home in the bayou, whilst the boy and girl tab the road-weary Falcons and Steelers for their selections, as we all look to roll effortlessly along.
That is all.
What is there to say about Colin Kaepernick? For starters, he might be the most overrated quarterback in the NFL, getting paid far too much for what he brings to the table; San Fran should have consulted the Swami before passing over that massive check to ensure their own mediocrity for years to come. Second, his body looks like a tribal headdress. Let's face it, the man enjoys tattoos.
Know what I enjoy? Holding on to the football. Five participants will languish below the line forever more because someone *coughKaepcough* could not hold on to the football, and Jess falls from the ranks of the undefeated. Plus a default loss on the Giants gives up a quiet week, so perhaps instead of taunting the man I should be thanking him. The Swami does love his chaos, after all.
Weekend Statistics
11 undefeated at 9-0
32 with one loss at 8-1
149 utterly deceased
We enter Week 10, which marks a shift in the rules and strategy of Suicide Pool play. Henceforth, any team selected is unavailable for the rest of the season, including playoffs.
Also worth mentioning is a comparison with last season and a reminder about the absolute devastation that came with Week 10 of 2013. After Week 09 last season, there were 30 undefeateds and 63 with one loss --- obviously we are quite ahead of that pace this season. However, in Week 10 last season, when the winless Jags got their first on the road versus the Titans, only four were left undefeated with 39 participants total. "X" has marked the devastation spot for many a Suicide season; the Reaper eagerly waits to see if the scythe will be active again in 2014. I'd like to say good luck, but you all know what I'm rooting for.
That is all.
The cream always rises. In this crazy chaotic NFL season, the cream is rising sooner rather than later --- as evidenced by the masses of participants no longer even inside the bottle.
As usual, the masses are moving in different directions, but the Seahawks (yes, those responsible for significant losses this year) and the Bengals (yes, those who have been playing too poorly of late) are the primary winners.
As for the Swami and his brood, as follows: the wife is on the Chiefs, the girl is on the 49ers, the boy is on the Chiefs, and the Swami himself does indeed like the Tigers to maul the lowly Jags in a battle of the big cats.
That is all.
