Long ago, when dragons that spit lasers roamed the lands, Steve Perry rode pterodactyls made of knives through righteous lightning storms, and Nebraska wasn’t a laughable football program, two brothers were immaculately conceived in an 81 Datsun in the shadow of Sanford Stadium with one destiny: to return football commentary to its old form; obsessive, cruel, full of errors, and substance abuse and dick jokes. And there's John who's a Miami fan, so we were surprised he could even spell.

Monday, November 20, 2006

WEEK 12 RECAP - I CAN'T WASH THE FAILURE OFF!

Oh my god. I haven't been this wrong since I said "Mark my words, the New England Patriots will rue the day they passed Drew Bledsoe over for Tom Brady." I still haven't fully removed my foot from my mouth after that one. But you know, what marks the greatness of a man isn't whether he's right or wrong, but whether he can own up to his mistakes. Somebody said something like that and they were fucking stupid. Yeah, I wrote a fucking dissertation about giving Rutgers, Wake and other small time programs some respect based on their body of work and not on their histories. I still stand by that. IF Rutgers ran the table, they should have played in the title game. But they didn't. That doesn't invalidate my argument, it just makes it moot.

Point being this: the odds of getting all the games wrong are about as good as getting all the games right. In close matchups, things frequently hinge on unseen variables like luck (if you watch sports and don't believe in luck then you're an even bigger idiot than we were this past weekend) which can swing a game either to or away from you. Over time you should be somewhere around 50% unless you constantly pick games like Florida vs. Western Carolina, and only pick them straight up. This week is a big stinkin bruise for both our egos, but on the bright side, it's very improbable that we'll make a habit out of this. If we do, we should just castrate ourselves and knit socks for our cats all day long.

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