Brothers, Sisters, and Friends of the Revolution,
Week Three goes back to Clancey Coronado, who is dominating this pool and making it look easier than playing Rock-Paper-Scissors at a Hitler parade.
While the ducats pile up on her side of the bed, the rest of us move one step closer to poverty, hopelessness, and voting Democrat. Where's mine?!?! I mean ... at the risk of going all Kanye here, "Baby, I'm really happy for you, I'ma let you finish, but my research was some of the best of all time!"
**If you are at all familiar with the Clancey Coronado response levels, you will know that if I were to interrupt the payout process to kick it Kanye-style, then it would not be met with any blinky-eyed Disney character response. We'd move past both Response Level One (disdain and disregard) and Response Level Two (withering verbal disembowelment), and into some form of Response Level Three (Wolverine-clawed rage-fueled frenzy). For future reference, at Response Level Four, somebody is going to end up in a box -- sorry about that, short-lived (literally) girlfriend in grad school :| . Pray you never see Response Level Four, which will have to be described by archeologists that can piece together what happened from the ash layers and pottery shards.
With two hours at the computer, pages of notes surrounding me, I had higher expectations. I had highlighters and whatnot. Did you know (and it must be true because it's on the world wide interwebs) that "DETROIT is 22-2 with revenge vs a division opponent off a fav loss; GREENBAY is 6-72 off a fav loss,"? I've got no idea what that means... but it seems very powerful. It would be nice to spend a little less time in the McDonald Playland Jumpy Ball Pit of Statistics and trust my gut: dogs don't have to win, they just don't have to lose as badly. I just really thought that the favorites would roll this week, like they did in 2009.
But hey, if wishes and hunches were sit-ups and crunches, we'd all be underwear models.
Get back out there.
