NFL Picks: Week 7

Licking my wounds from a sub-.500 week, but determined to come back strong. Swami sez big week for the favorites, bringing the season of the underdog back toward normal.

Seahawks (+7) over 49ERS - P
I'm a little worried about a Thursday road game, but the Hawks haven't been blown out all season, why start now?
BILLS (-3) over Titans - L
Nervous about the Bills winning by more than three, but shout out to Ralph Wilson Stadium.
COLTS (-3) over Browns - W
Come down game for the Browns, Luck shakes off a bad game.
Packers (-5.5) over RAMS - W
Green Bay seems to have re-gained their mojo.
VIKINGS (-6) over Cardinals - W
I'm all about picking against the Cardinals now that their luck has run out.
GIANTS (-5.5) over Redskins - L
Giants linemen hassle RG3
Saints (-3) over BUCCANEERS - W
Brees still has playoff drees.
Cowboys (-2) over PANTHERS - W
Expecting Dallas to either dominate or implode with a loss. Dominating seems more likely.
Ravens (+7) over TEXANS - L
Taking the points here.
RAIDERS (-4) over Jaguars - L
Da Raiders trying their hardest to blow it, but I don't see Jags keeping it too close on the West Coast.
Jets (+10.5) over PATRIOTS - W
The Jets stink but still I think they frustrate the Pats enough to cover, barely.
Steelers (Pick 'Em) over BENGALS - W
I just think they have their number, even in the franchise decline.
BEARS (-6) over Lions - P
Lions were on tv here in Nica last Sunday, I wasn't overly impressed.

This Week: 7-4-2
Season: 29-23-2

Runnin' Shit: Mirador El Calvario

Matagalpa, Nicaragua--

Across the river from downtown here in Matagalpa there rises a hill--some might call it a mountain--with a little viewpoint on top of it, called a mirador. Ever since I arrived in town and saw it, it looms over my neighborhood and particularly from the window of the coffee shop I like to frequent, it has been my goal to run to the top of it. But for three and a half weeks I wasn't able to find a route to get there. Not all the local roads show up on Gmaps, and the Matagalpinos I've asked for directions have either told me it was dangerous and not to go there, or else didn't know which roads to take.

Growing more and more impatient by the day, this past Monday I finally narrowed down my hunches on which roads to take to two, and I turned up the one I had the most faith in. The pimpstincts were strong, it seems, and after about five minutes I saw an official-looking sign pointing left up a dirt road for the Mirador El Calvario. I turned, hoping for the best that I could make it up without walking. The road curved and curved, and all of the sudden I was totally in el campo, chickens scattered around the side of the road, fields and mountains in all directions dotted with cows, ponds, distant shacks, and rows of crops. The higher I went, the better it smelled, sweet grass like a Vermont field in the height of summer. With some fifteen minutes showing on my watch I saw another sign for the mirador pointing to the left, and three minutes later a sign directing me to the right. At twenty-two minutes the road became paved again, steeply rose for 100 meters, and ended the park. 

There were two men at the gate, one in a city uniform and the other in a jumpsuit with a gun. The city official told me it cost $5cordobas to enter (about 20 cents), to which I replied it was my first time up here, and I didn't have any money on me. In my black shorts and fully soaked neon green tank top, I clearly had run all the way up from town and he let me in for free. I promised I would bring ten Cords next time. The view was beautiful, I stayed for a few minutes, but I couldn't compromise my workout too much, and didn't want to draw the ire of the gunman, so I turned around and headed home.

(photo from the mirador pending permission from a flickr user)

Week 6 NFL Picks

Week 6 comin atcha

Steelers (-6) over TITANS - L
(I thought the Steelers would win by a touchdown, nearly did it, too.)
Raiders (+10) over FALCONS - W
(Coming off the bye week, I like the Raiders with the backdoor cover.)
Bengals (-2) over BROWNS - L
(Bengals are just better.)
DOLPHINS (-4) over Rams - L
(I don't like the Dolphins giving 4, but I'm going with the home favorite here.)
JETS (-3.5) over Colts - W
(Must win for the Jets. I just hope it's by more than three)
Lions (+3.5) over EAGLES - W
(Lions have stayed close to good teams, I don't think the Eagles are a good team.)
BUCCANEERS (-4.5) over Chiefs - W
(Back and forth on this one, but Brady Quinn in the Pirate Ship was the final story for me.)
RAVENS (-3.5) over Cowboys - L
(Ravens need to get the stin of last week off them.)
Bills (+4.5) over CARDINALS - W
(I don't trust the Cards to beat anyone by more than 4)
Patriots (-3.5) over SEAHAWKS - L
(Couldn't stomach a potential jinx on this one.)
Giants (+6.5) over 49ERS - W
(Eli game.)
Vikings (Pick 'Em) over REDSKINS - L
(Never go with Washington on a Pick 'Em.)
TEXANS (-3) over Packers - L
(Wary of must-win status for the Pack, but leaning toward them not being great.)
CHARGERS (Pick 'Em) over Broncos - L
(Better team.)

This week: 6-8
Season: 22-19

Lost quite a few games in the fourth quarter this week. As I warned on twitter, I didn't feel good about this week.

NFL Picks Week 5

At a hostel on the beach with sketchy internet, posting while I can. Adios, B. Once again, no Thursday pick.

BENGALS (-3.5) over Dolphins - L
Packers (-7) over COLTS - L
Bears (-6) over JAGUARS - W
GIANTS (-8.5) over Browns - W
STEELERS (-3.5) over Eagles - L
Ravens (-6.5) over CHIEFS - L
Falcons (-3) over REDSKINS - W
Seahawks (-3) over PANTHERS - W
VIKINGS (-5.5) over Titans - W
PATRIOTS (-6.5) over Broncos - W
49ERS (-9.5) over Bills - W
SAINTS (-3.5) over Chargers - W
JETS (+9) over Texans - W

Week: 9-4
Season: 16-11

Week 4 NFL Picks (minus Thursday)

Been a long time coming, finally going to start blogging my picks (with the points). I missed Thursday, though, so we'll call it a push.

ATLANTA (-7) over Carolina - L
New England (-4.5) over BUFFALO - W
Minnesota (+4) over DETROIT - W
San Diego (-2) over KANSAS CITY - W
Seattle (-2.5) over ST. LOUIS - L
San Francisco (-4.5) over NY JETS - W
Tennessee (+13) over HOUSTON - L
Oakland (+7) over DENVER - L
ARIZONA (-5) over Miami - L
Cincinnati (+1) over JACKSONVILLE - W
GREEN BAY (-8) over New Orleans - L
Washington (+2) over TAMPA BAY - W
NY Giants (+2) over PHILADELPHIA - L
Chicago (+3) over DALLAS - W

Lots of home underperformers this week.

UPDATE: 7-7

Fun Facts from Panhandle Country

Here are some fun facts I gathered from wikipedia about the greater Texas Panhandle country, where the Dust Bowl met the Llano Estacado, where the winter nights are cold, the summer days are hot, and the barren groundscape goes on for miles and miles and miles. All fun facts gathered between the hours of midnight and 2 A.M. at which point I changed topics to UFO reports as prompted by my research of Levelland, TX.

--------

Hereford's local water supply contains an unusually high level of naturally occurring fluorine. Because fluoride is used to protect against tooth decay, Hereford earned the title "The Town Without a Toothache". High levels of fluoride consumed by longtime or younger residents may result in staining.

-- Hereford, TX

The county was named for Erastus "Deaf" Smith (1787–1837), a partially deaf scout and soldier who served in the Texas Revolution. 

-- Deaf Smith County, TX

However, in 1886, Interior Secretary L. Q. C. Lamar, declared the area to be Public domain.

-- The entire Oklahoma Panhandle

It was here that Tex Thorntonoperating on the now debunked concussion theory coaxed today's inflation adjusted equivalent of $1 million from the locals on claims he could fire rocket-powered explosives into the clouds and cause rain.

-- Dalhart, TX

Boise City was the only city in the continental United States to be bombed during World War II. 

-- Boise City, OK

Several inches of snowfall frequently occur each winter, typically for several weeks in January–February, often resutling in minor flooding due to the non-existent runoff system.

-- Clovis, NM

The local high school mascot is a chieftain. The school colors are red and white. The girl's team mascot is a squaw.

-- Friona, TX

Corporate hog farms and cattle feedlots dominate its economy.

-- Guymon, OK

Pantex, the onlynuclear weapons assembly and disassembly facility in the country, is also a major employer.

-- Amarillo, TX

Levelland is famous as the site of a well-publicized series of UFO sightings in November 1957.

-- Levelland, TX

The Liberal Bee Jays, a semi-professional baseball team, have won five national championships and 13 state championships.

-- Liberal, KS

At one point in the video, the tornado lifted and hurled a van and a couple of flattened pick-up trucks into the air.

-- Pampa, TX

 Beginning in 1932, Odessa held a rodeo for roping rabbits. In one competition, cowgirl Grace Hendricks roped a rabbit from horseback in five seconds and beat her male competitors.

-- Odessa, TX

Cookin' Some Stuff: Chicken Noodle Soup

Yo people I made a pot of chicken noodle soup today while the NCAA basketball games were on. I make CNS a few times a year, and the recipe is always different so I decided to blog it out and, who knows, maybe even perfect it someday.

Here's how it all went down:

BTB's Chicken Noodle Soup

Ingredients
1 lb chicken (more or less, but get the package closest to a pound. This time I used 1.05lb)
3 carrots
5 small potatoes
a few celery stalks
half a bunch kale
ginger root to taste (I recommend about a TBSP)
Chicken broth
1 clove garlic
rosemary, black pepper, nutmeg (if you dare)

Put stove on high heat

Fill bottom of pot with water, enough to cover the chicken and then some
Add dash of pepper, dash of nutmeg, dash of rosemary in water
Cut chicken into little pieces
Add chicken, simmer a few minutes

Add vegetables (chopped into small pieces) should top water, let sit for a minute

Add broth, 2 big boxes
Add ginger

Let boil 30 minutes covered

Add garlic, chopped into tiny pieces
Add more black pepper

Continue boil another 30 minutes or so
Add some water if you feel like it

Add egg noodles, 6-8 clumps of them*

EAT IT

Results

I didn't love it as much as some of the past recipes, but so far so good. I usually use more ginger, which has been overpowering in the past, I guess I need to lock down my amounts.

*my pot isn't quite big enough to hold all that so I cooked the noodles separately, ate a couple bowls to relieve the pot, then made some more noodles and added them in.

2012 St Pat's Dash

Seattle - In the two weeks after my tundra battle at the Hillbilly Half Marathon I didn't run a step, unless you count the last ten feet of a jaywalk road crossing here and there. My main issue was that the first metatarsal of my left foot winced at every impact, drawing attention away from my right kneecap's more moderate yelping.

I hobbled around Olympia preoccupied with work during the day, and dulled both pain and idle regret in the bars at night, telling myself things would normalize in a few weeks once the pain went away and I could get back to my routine of working, running, and cooking before gently sampling some of the finer ales and wines this earth has to offer once darkness inevitably rolled around to wipe away the guilt-inducing glow that comes from a cloudy daytime sky.

Those two weeks of idleness ended just shy of 8 in the morning on March 17, when my friend Chris and I parked his Jeep 4 blocks up the hill from the St. Pat's Dash starting line.

I had recently made the final decision to run the Seattle St. Pat's Dash, a tradition with my mom dating back to my childhood, which had become a Tacoma friend tradition during the winter I moved home in 2008, forged with a mysterious stranger named Walter whose silver tongue inspired us to 17 Guinness' in just one short afternoon.

This year I was hangover-free, breaking new grounds for the Dash. Lord, I remember last year, and I sure as Hell remember two years ago with all the hoping that the rhythm of running would drown out the drumbeat in my head. My foot as pain-free, too. But my knee, though functional, brought to mind a man in a ski mask hiding behind an alley dumpster--not necessarily dangerous, but lurking nevertheless.

We didn't warm up for the show, aside from jogging down to the starting line, and spent the final 25 pre-race minutes kicking our legs out, joking at the expense of our fellow racers, and dutifully acting as landing pads for the intermittent raindrops coming from the thick clouds above.

We settled in about 10 yards behind the starting line with the intention of starting slow and having a built-in population of wannabe runners to pass over the course of the first two slightly uphill miles, with hopes of bringing it home on the downhill with whatever we could muster.

Nothing crazy, but a good, sustained effort. Goal pace: 6:15 for the roughly 3.7 mile race. Break 23.

The first part of the plan held up, I went out at a controlled effort down Mercer, around Dexter and Republican to Aurora* and started picking people off three by three at first, then two by two, until it was one at a time as I approached the turnaround. I used the same old tricks--find the people who were charging and follow them, get offended at my place behind children, women and geezers, pretend that I'm further along in the race than I actually am--to good effect.

At the turn I knew that I was running alright, but shortly thereafter it was clear that picking up the pace wasn't really in the cards. Although I had passed a couple hundred over the first two miles, I quickly realized my best chance from here on our was to just stay put.

I kept a good face on in spite of my limitations, shouted out passers-by and high fived whatever kids stood on the sidewalk to support with their parents. My body didn't feel as bad as it did in Centralia the month prior, but I was pushing the pace, I hadn't run in two weeks, and the KIND bar I ate in the morning was still sloshing around in my stomach**.

When we finally left Aurora for the homestretch, I had been passed by a couple of runners, and sat directly at the back of a pack of three runners. I was sucking wind and made the decision not to make a big move on them, hoping I might be able to sprint for 50 meters and nip one or two, but none of the above happened.

Still, I was happy with my time of 22:36 (which they called 6:13 pace). It was good for 83rd overall, a more competitive year than usual. And I barely beat a 12 year old, which reminds me of one of the key rules for old man runners: always celebrate beating children in a road race.

I was dead enough to let the volunteers cut the timing chip off of my shoe, then waited for Chris and a quick trip to the beer garden.

Good news: we found and exploited the beer garden.

Bad news: Sunday morning confirmed my suspicions of a torn meniscus by swelling heavily and forcing an Omar Little-esque limp. Back to the disabled list for this geezer. More race reports coming soon, I hope. July, perhaps.

Ahoy,
BTB

*This new St. Pat's course might be the worst in all of Seattle. What was one a fabulous rumble down the viaduct to Pioneer Square is now an ugly, annoying, boring trudge through bland pavement and ending in the party void that is daytime Lower Queen Anne.

**Ever since college, any bar I eat gives me a mild and regrettable stomach ache.

MLS Notes

I'm a little bummed to say I missed every minute of MLS opening weekend. But I'm happy to see that LA and NYRB both lost, even if it means they lost to a couple of bullshit pretenders-to-the-throne in RSL and FC Dallas.

Don't get me wrong, both of those flyover state teams are strong, and I wouldn't be surprised if I was made to be a fool later on by denigrating them now, but this year's season comes down to two teams: LA and Seattle.

And I think Seattle can give LA a run.

Just going on record. I think Seattle wins at least one of the two big domestic prizes in 2012: Supporter's Shield or MLS Cup. Honestly I consider both of them to be equally important, and I think only two teams have a shot at either of them. Go Sounders.

2012 Hillbilly Half Marathon

Last Saturday I popped my half marathon cherry. But if, in this metaphor, my legs are a vagina, then the penis equivalent for this race was a 16-inch long, frozen, studded dildo. Simply put, that shit hurt but it felt really good.

Beloved former college teammate Wes Fuhrman drove up from Portland to join me for this year's Hillbilly Half Marathon out in the Capitol Forest. (As a quick aside, I'd like to give a shout out to Guerilla Running for not only putting on such a legitimately grueling and genuinely interesting race, but also for donating over $2000 to local trail-related services.)

Going into the race my training had been solid for an old, cubicle-dwelling borderline alcoholic like myself, but I would consider it suspect for a man of my pride and expectation. After six months on and off struggling to run more than twice a week in Seattle, I had put in two months of relatively consistent 30-35 mile weeks complete with a handful of runs over 10 miles and even a few track and hill workouts.

My training was nothing amazing, but enough to slowly bring my average training run pace from 8 minutes in December down to a smidge over 7 at the end of February. Highlights included an 11-miler at 7 flat pace and a 4.5 mile tempo run at 6:25.

Complicating things a bit further, I came down with strep throat the Tuesday night before the race and began a 10-day dose of antibiotics late Wednesday night. I stayed home from work Wednesday, Thursday and half of Friday, but thankfully felt significantly better on race day.















A couple of grizzled vets gear up for race day

Wes and I arrived a little over an hour prior to the start so we could sign a waiver, adapt to the morning weather, and poke around the area. After about 2/3 of a mile of walking, we discovered that the course didn't fuck around. There was a steep incline from the get-go, time to get mentally prepared for a march.

I knew I wasn't completely over my illness about 100 steps into the race. While we started out at a fairlyly pedestrian pace, the moment we turned up the hill I was gassed. Every step up was way harder than it should have been. I was exposed as a fraud by the first 100 feet of elevation gain, and ready to give up on my dream of a top 3 finish about a half mile later.

The logging road continued up and up, with two slight downhill drops, for a mile and a half before encountering an aid station and a right hand turn onto another mile and a half of single-track, the first half of which gained elevation at a sharper rate than the road. The game just kept getting realer.

Fortunately for me, the trails became physically ugly once the elevation gain stopped, flattening out for a little over a half mile and becoming less and less passable. Large, deep, frigid puddles covered the full width of the trail for meters at a time, requiring nimble toes and quick decision making to sneak around them. A decision to ford even one of the puddles risked the temporary loss of feeling to feet, ankles and knees. It was here that my running instincts and muscle memory kicked in, and I passed the two runners who had blown by my on the single track switchback and left them in the dust before turning on to another inclined gravel road, now covered in snow.

The elevation gain continued to kill me at every step, only now I was burdened by slushy traction in addition to the grade, which was only slightly negated by enjoying the beautiful ridgeline views and the fact that I could no longer hear footsteps behind me. I had created enough space between me and (then) 9th place to give me the courage to believe that as soon as we hit another batch of sloppy single-track trails I would be able to start picking people off instead of dreading that each step would just be one closer to being passed myself.

The good feelings continued through mile 5, when the snow kept getting deeper, the puddles more frequent, and my feet more and more numb. Every downhill risked a total yard sale-style fall on my ass and my attack of each puddle became slower and slower as the course curved, the legs fatigued, and the toes became less responsive.

Around mile 5.25 two middle aged guys passed me and, although I hung close to them for nearly two more miles, the leaders running the turnaround began flying by me well before I hit mile 6. I realized here that I was now in 10th place and looking at at least a 15 minute loss. It wasn't getting better.

The "out" half of the course left the trails for a final time a few hundred meters before the turnaround, only to tease you with an aid station followed by a straight-uphill stretch that you ran halfway up before turning around at a cone to head home. I hit the turnaround at 1:00:10. 2 hour pace. Dread.

Besides my slow time at the turnaround, I also realized that the next set of runners had crept on my pretty fiercely over the last mile, and by mile 7 they both passed me, relegating me to 12th overall, 11th for men. One place out of scoring for the La Sportiva Series. A mile later, they were long out of site.

At mile 7. 5 fatigue and cold were settling into my legs like a grizzly bar ready to hibernate--heavy, full and slow-- and even worse I had to dodge all the "going out" runners, who became more and more oblivious to on-comers as I reached the tail end of them.

The two-way traffic on a single track trail conundrum peaked around mile 8 when I was forced to jump full-legged into a puddle in order to avoid plowing into a pack of 6 women who were hugging the dry trail ridge at a walking pace. Against nearly all scientific odds, the depth at that location had to have been the deepest of the entire course, and my right leg went all the way to the bottom of my shorts. The subsequent left foot step was not much better.

Here I was, 5 miles to go, tired as fuck, and now I could barely feel my legs, let alone my feet which I hadn't felt for a whole mile because of the constant puddle fording that the single file trails required. 5 miles to go? 45 more minutes?

Despite the existential dread, I carried on knowing that once I hit mile 9.5 it would be mostly flat and downhill and, who knows, maybe even get a second wind.

The second wind never hit, and the final switchbacks were far steeper going down than I remembered them coming up. It was there, with 2 miles to go, that I achieved the feeling that maybe all marathoners get. I am going to finish this damn thing, and it is gonna feel fucking great!

Every single little step was effort once I turned onto the logging road (1.5 miles to go!) and every single little thought was focused on remaining willfully ignorant of the two remaining hills. When they came, by God it took every ounce to willpower to keep from walking.

But I did keep from walking and I gave the best impression of a sprint that I could in the last 100 meters.

Finishing time: 1:55:02
















Derrrty Berrrd Pride


Wes ran a hell of a race, given that he trained even less than I did, finishing 4th in a little over 1:33. The only guys who beat him flew in from out of state and probably run 110 miles a week.

...
EPILOGUE

Here I am on March 11, a full 8 days later and I regret to announce that I haven't run a step since Saturday. My left foot and right knee are both ailing, the foot in particular. Better safe than sorry, so I reckon I'll spend a few more days drinking instead of running just to make sure I can have a viable comeback. It was a fun race, and I want to do more. Barring injury, I'm really hoping to do a few more trail races this spring and summer. If everything goes well, maybe I'll even get fit enough to compete for a win.

Beer Beginnings

What follows is a very loosely regulated description of the events that I hope will successfully lead me to my first batch of beer.

Sunday, March 4, 2012
Cooking Beer











I used the Around the Horn IPA recipe from Cellar Brewing Supply to kick off my maiden brewing voyage, and in deference to the folks at Cellar I'll leave the recipe details on my sheet of paper.

Audibles:
I added an extra 3/4 oz. of the flavoring hops halfway through the wort boil (roughly 25 minutes remained) in hopes of giving it a little extra hop flavor. Slightly worried that I never reached the boiling break point. I left the pot uncovered, which in hindsight may have been a mistake. We'll see.















Wort Up

Cooled the wort in my sink with cold water and a little bit of ice, refreshing the water trough every 7-10 minutes or so, and when it came time to transfer the wort into the bucket I had a slight panic moment because it felt like it had cooled so drastically. I thought it might be a good idea to put the half of the wort which hadn't been dumped into the bucket on the stove to heat it up before realizing that was a stupid decision and poured the rest of it into the bucket.

Feelings:
I really struggled to sleep that night, doubting my every instinct, and assuming that wherever there wasn't a photo of the brew equipment in my sources and instructions, that I had used the wrong equipment. Legitimate night terrors, folks.

Over time my fear subsided. Brewing Is Fun and Easy, according to all my books, right?

March 7, 2012
Fermentation Transfer

This was pretty easy, and it was a lot of fun to hook up the rubber tube to the bucket spout and watch her rip down the water slide into the carboy. Because I'm so bush league, I sanitized the carboy in the shower with me, down a double duty of scrubbin and rinsin. Sexy.

Audibles:
I added a sleeve of hops to the carboy. I think I was supposed to do this, but I'm not sure. Hoping for no spoilage.
















Chillin in the Carboy

And there she still chills today. Next up: bottling

Beer Beginnings, False Start

Olympia, WA - Greetings from the Skep and Skein, a beer bar in West Olympia and the only place this side of Budd Bay that serves much beyond Coors Light and Manny's. I came out tonight to read a few chapters from my latest homebrew book, John Palmer's How to Brew, an amazingly free of charge book available online or, if you feel so inclined, in the bookstore for pay.

This past Sunday afternoon I found myself in Seattle where I took care of some longstanding unfinished business of buying a homebrew kit. A big white bucket, brew kettle, glass jug and $200 later, I'm finally ready to create a new palate for my life artistry - cooking booze.

2/28/12
Bar closed, to be continued...

Week 4 Picks

I decided that I should start making my picks every week and monitoring how smart I am rather than just believing it. Here it is...

BTB's Week 4 Picks
Saints (-7.5) over JAGS
Lions (+1) over COWBOYS
EAGLES (-9) over Niners
Redskins (-2) over RAMS
BROWNS (-1) over Titans
BENGALS (+3) over Bills
Vikings (-2) over CHIEFS
Panthers (+7) over BEARS
Steelers (+4) over TEXANS
Giants (-1) over CARDINALS
Falcons (-5) over SEAHAWKS
Patriots (-5) over RAIDERS
Broncos (+13) over PACKERS
CHARGERS (+7) over Dolphins
Jets (+4) over RAVENS
Colts (+10) over BUCS

8-7-1

Boneyard Brewing

Boneyard Brewery already exists, and my dreams die.

Hawk Talk

Here is my not-so-crazy dream scenario for the 2011 Seahawks:

Things start slowly, with two legitimate losses out of the gate coming on the road to the 49ers and Steelers and resulting in an entire fan base's outpouring of embarrassment and shame, respectively. Prospects are only minimally salvaged when the Blue Man Group squeaks past the Cardinals at home by intercepting a tipped Kevin Kolb pass just over mid-field as Arizona was driving for what would have been a winning score.

Two-touchdown losses at home to Atlanta and at New York put the Hawks at 1-4 heading into the bye week and mild outrage drifts across the Puget Sound as sports radio hosts and even the Seattle Times editorial page calls for a quarterback change.

Ever the gamesman, Carroll sticks with Jackson, whose middling statistics fail to reveal the unfortunate circumstances that have spoiled his Seattle tenure, from a leaky pocket to ill-timed fumbles and a few key missed interference calls. These circumstances have caused the Hawks to average a mere 13 points a game. The defense, on the other hand, is allowing nearly 27 points per four quarters. The pass rush is ragged, the linebackers are average, and inexperienced corners are repeatedly burned for long gains. Earl Thomas leads the league in tackles.

Coming off the bye the Hawks lose a shootout to Cleveland thanks to a late turnover, and dread hits as next week's showdown with the Bengals suddenly becomes must-win just to retain some semblance of NFL credibility. All the while Mike Holmgren smirks from a luxury box high above Cleveland Browns Stadium.

The horror, the horror, as the Hawks lose for the 2nd time at home, a 10-3 snoozefest to the winless Cincinnati Bengals. Jackson throws for 104 yards, rushes for 43, and throws two picks. Carson Palmer's blood pressure remains high throughout the contest.

Week 9: Charlie Whitehurst travel to Dallas making his first start of the season. He performs admirably in the massive Cowboyplex, and the defense begins to show signs of coming together. Whitehurst leads a game-tying drive capped with a TD pass to Mike Williams with 1:43 to go, but still they drop a heartbreaker, 27-24, on a last-second Cowboys field goal.

The Hawks then bring their dismal 1-7 record to CenturyLink field for a date with the underachieving Ravens who are hungry for a win against the NFL's cellar dwellers to get back into the playoff hunt. They weren't counting on a rejuvenated Seahawks offense, whose offensive line has begun to show signs of greatness, and the Hawks come out on top 24-17.

This sets up a date on the road with St. Louis, the media darlings who not only lead the West at 5-4, but possess an incredibly lightly back-loaded schedule with 5 games against division foes. But they didn't count on the two-win Seahawks putting up a fight. The Hawks record six sacks and two interceptions, and Charlie keeps drive after drive alive with textbook bootleg passes. Hawks silence the Edward Jones Dome faithful with a 54-yeard Steven Hauschka FG as the clock reads zeroes.

Winning ways continue at home and the 12th Man starts to get his swagger back. A Washington blowout and surprise win over a league-leading Philadelphia team caught in a trap game scenario suddenly have the Hawks, whose running game is grinding out clock and whose defense is making plays, taking a 5-7 record into a nationally televised home game against the Rams who keep winning.

Sniffing playoff hopes that seemed extinct long before even the Bengals loss, the Hawks see this as a statement game. A second late in the season, must-win division game against the Rams in as many years, and they aren't ready to call 2010 a fluke. Seattle wins 27-17, with a late Rams touchdown making it seem closer than it was.

Don't look now, but the 6-7 Seahawks are only a game out of first place, have won five straight, and have three winnable games remaining: at mediocre Chicago, at home against the 49ers and closing out in Arizona, who at 8-7 can make the playoffs with a win and a St. Louis loss.

Weeks 15 and 16 are revenge weeks, with Pete Carroll getting Pac-10 supremacy over Jim Harbaugh in a home blowout (the 49ers, at this point, are egregiously waging a Suck for Luck campaign) after the Hawks exorcising 2010 Soldier Field demons the week before.

With the storybook on the line at Arizona (win and you're in at 9-7), the up and down game is responsible for 12 heart attacks on the west coast, but the Hawks claw their way out with a dramatic punt return touchdown in the 4th quarter to rally from a 17-point second half deficit to win 35-34.

NFC West Standings
1. Seattle 9-7 (5-1)
2. St. Louis 9-7 (4-2)
3. Arizona 8-8 (2-4)
4. San Francisco 3-13 (1-5)

Of course, the alternative to this not-so-crazy scenario is home wins against Cincy, SF, Washington, maybe Arizona and one flukey road win. Hawks go 4-12 or 5-11, but make some progress over the course of the season and stand a chance at sniffing the playoffs in 2012.

Fantasy Football 2011: Clipboard Jesus Freakz

Yesterday marked the third annual draft for the TacFL, and the second annual live auction. Here is my team, tentatively named the Clipboard Jesus Freakz.


QB Peyton Manning
RB Steven Jackson
BE Sidney Rice
RB Peyton Hillis
RB/WR Anquan Boldin
WR Dez Bryant
WR Reggie Wayne
TE Jason Witten
D/ST Falcons D/ST
K Sebastian Janikowski
BE Knowshon Moreno
BE Joseph Addai
BE Joe Flacco
BE Colt McCoy
BE Julio Jones
BE Ryan Torain

Rick the Ruler

There are few simple pleasures in life that equal that of unexpectedly hearing a Slick Rick song on the radio. The actual radio.

Hermetic

It was insomnia in 2001, it is insomnia in 2010.

2001 was the beginning of my journey as a writer. With the exception of a couple of high school papers that I thought might be described as mildly amusing at the time, the first time I ever truly thought I might become a writer was the fall of my sophomore year in college, sometime after the twin towers fell and I was growing out my hair and dreaming of girls in the Rocky Mountains. I was also staying up til 3 or4 a.m. more nights than I wanted to, and after enough bouts of fretting over lost sleep and wasted time I started taking walks and writing poems about the stars outside of my window in the Butterfield dorms.

Those poems, whose actual pen-to-paper writing was inspired mostly by Ralph Waldo Emerson, turned into letters and e-mails and a true love of the challenge that is getting something onto a page that a big chunk of the population will enjoy reading, and seek to find more gems from the same author's future mind.

Here I am again, nearly a year after my last posting, jotting down thoughts at 3:30 a.m. on a Monday morning. There are a lot of things that I've moved on from in the last three years of my life, and I don't want blogging to be one of them.

Funemployment

Bloomberg news reports "the average work week fell to 33 hours in June, the lowest level on record."

America, we're just like France! Only not by design.

May I suggest more wine to lessen the anxiety? Weed is cool, too.

P(a)L(in)AYA Haters

It's funny, while most of Sarah Palin's support arguably comes from people who are angry and want to hate the things she rails against, like the so-called liberal elite media, Barack Obama and Democrats in general, I equally revel in stories that make fun of just how asinine she is. Emperor Palpatine was right, the dark side is strong.