HELLO LAWN SOILERS!
You may relax. You may feel secure. You may release your inhibitions, break out the stash, introduce your daughters, sharpen your wits, forget about that time you shouldn't have mixed gin and tequila, and get ready to climb the sides of the cage in a desperate but ultimately fruitless attempt to escape.
FOR I AM HERE, NOW.
Lo, these many years I have lurked, in the shadows, like a capitol hill aide intent on never occupying a small room alone with an aged white conservative senator whose eyes twinkle a little strangely when he looks my way. It was August of 1907 when I first made sight of Yardbarker over the horizon. After decades of quiet, humble service in the name of the Queen's empire, I've been unchained, like a melody, like a german derigible, like a vir... oh wait, not quite like that.
I know you are all excited. Please put the goldfish back in the bowl for the moment, and place the lid back on the chocolate body paint. Before we can continue,
I AM INFORMED I MUST MAKE A SACRIFICIAL OFFERING OF SOMETHING THAT HAS NOT A THING TO DO WITH SPORTS.
And now, on to the important stuff.
GODFREY'S OFFICAL PREMATURE SUPERBOWL PICK.
I figure we can dispense with the playoffs this year and just have the New Orleans Saints and the Indianapolis Colts play next week and be done with it. I mean really. What's the point of these last four or whatever games other than a bunch of injuries and a few cheerleaders?
Hold on... that's Roger on the phone...
Alright, he says no ******* way, something about NFL owners needing to make enough money to buy off the mid-term elections or something. On to February we go.
This won't cost you anything unless you're stupid enough to put money on it, but the Colts are going to do it this year. 35-12. Doesn't matter who they play, its going to be 35-12.
WELCOME BACK TO PHILLY, AI
Yeah. Come on. Who really believed AI was serious about retiring? Yeah. He was serious about retiring like I'm serious about going to 12-Step meetings and running a Lou Dobbs 2012 campaign office in East LA. Not. Gonna. Happen.
Out here in the Yard, in between the randomly strewn weeds*, I see a sea of Eagle green. Hey, I'm sorry your football team is the "Cubs" of the NFL, but at least you will have access to cheap (okay well... just access to) tickets to see AI's crossover dribble again before it totally leaves him and he starts getting embarassed by twenty-year-old rookies coming off the bench... AND you might get to see Eddie Jordan cry. I give that until about mid-february.
People are saying AI's a con man. What? How can you "con" anyone after the sports media wrote 18,487,920 words last year about what a bitch you were in Detroit? Note: *I* give AI a free pass on that, because Michael Curry might be the first man to occupy an NBA head coaching position without being able to count down 10 backwards or tie his shoelaces by himself. But after he limped out of Motown and onto the Memphis Grizzlies bus just long enough to try and throw the coach off and under it, no-one in Philly can not know what they're in for.
Well, that's all we've got for now. It's time to start the chainsaw and feed the komodos.
* Apologies to the MMA fans who were mistaken for weeds.