Cones fall, trees grow, buds blossom, leaves sprout, leaves fall, then winter brings out the drunks in all of us, save for the fans of one lucky franchise, whose Super Bowl victory carries them through the dark doldrums of February, March and--depending on which region of America you happen to live in--April.
Now that my NFL divisional playoff wounds are completely healed, I feel like I'm able to at least speak about this past season, no matter what meekness pierces through the words and letters.
This year of MMXII marks the first semi-complete journey of fake football gambling for me, and I have mostly positive memories, especially considering I spent the bulk of the season in the mountains and on the beaches of Nicaragua, where I was lucky to catch a Spanish language broadcast pirated out of the Buffalo-Cleveland CBS network in Matagalpa, or unlucky enough to watch the Seahawks-Lions game at an ex-pat rapist haven in Granada.
Ah, well, I'll always have Monday Night Football in Week 3, the Golden Mary Game. I have reason to believe the Nicaraguan locals will never forget the visage of the crazy, blue-green-eyed gringo, twelve Tonas deep, crumbling to the ground for a painful moment--then suddenly leaping up into the air and running around in circles like a crazed fool. 14-12.
For people in Seattle, 14-12 will stand as long as 9-11. Never forget.
Yes, that brings us to numbers. For the games I actually got around to picking when I wasn't eyeball drunk on Flor de Cana, marooned on some distant God-fearing coffee farm, or wallowing in general despair, the count ended up slightly in the favor of the good guys: 79 wins, 71 losses, 2 ties.
79-71-2 works out to a .526 winning percentage, hardly worthy of Nostradamus, or even Swami Sez, but it beat the break even point of .524, just barely. Either way, I'll call it one hell of a good building block on my future gambling empire. If I had put $110 on each game my reward would have been a pretty sweet $90 Tuesday-Wednesday bender at my local dive bars.
I can also say with confidence that, although I didn't publish my playoff picks, I would have finished with a tidy 8-2 record, with a 3-1 divisional week (all but the Seahawks) and a perfect championship week (9ers to win as the favorites and Ravens to lose but cover). There was too much bitterness clouding my brain to come up with a pick for the Harbaugh Bowl aka the Garbage Bowl aka the Har-i-bowl. But let's look at the bright side, I was banking some cash money, baby.
Coming Soon: Team by Team, Conference by Conference Results