Blimey, it's Week Eight

In honor of the first NFL game played in London on Sunday, tonight's update is brought to you by Vauxhall, Burberry, and Newcastle. I don't recommend eating bangers and mash during Packer games.

Don't know if you caught it, but the second horseman of the marketing apocalypse (the first was a Bud ad a few weeks ago) was visited upon us this weekend when Mazda engaged a gospel choir to sing "zoom zoom zoom". I tried to send The Clark Sisters a case of Maalox, but it was too late.

As much as I'd love to congratulate my brother Jon as winner of Week 8 in our little pool, unfortunately I cannot. The Patriots beat him to it, right after they beat the Redskins, the point spread, the Colorado Rockies, and some puppies. Furthermore, Scott Bockheim regrettably does not win second place as the Patriots took that too, along with all of Scott's loose change and I think one of his kids.

"We need seven yards? Okay. Let's run the headless horseman."

Happy Halloween to everyone. Be scary and safe and stuff. A reminder that all are welcome to join us for happy hour this Friday evening at Hotel Metro, corner of Mason and Milwaukee downtown.

Week 7

I hope this note finds everyone in good health. Whatever sinus-crushing thing is going around has been downright nasty and will simply not go away. Not unlike Nicole Richie. It got Kelly last week, but fortunately, she located this new remedy, now sold over-the-counter. An endorsement deal may already be in the works. Also available in gravy flavor.

The shout goes out to Nadine and Joe and the Sanderses, who administered a beatdown on us this week. The winning margin of six doesn't really tell the story very well, seeing as how they had but one game wrong and that one came down to a last second field goal.

In second place for week 7 is the highly dynamic and very pregnant duo of Scott and Cory.

Mid-season approaches, and it is probably not too soon to take note of any individual who may be quietly, deliberately lurching toward the bellyflop award and the mad coin that goes with winning it. I shall not name names.

This week's update has been brought to you by MillerCoorsGEUniversalTimeWarner Inc. Rumors of the Friends of Smoove B football pool merging with Boeing are unfounded and we will have no further comment on the matter.

Oh yes, there's this Happy Hour coming up. Anyone who can get away for a couple hours on Friday evening, November 2, at 6-ish, is invited to a birthday happy hour at Hotel Metro. There are two bars; check the one on the first floor first and the rooftop (no lie) second. Metro has $5 martinis on Friday nights, and great appetizers too. Not that any of us partakes in the evil drink.

No RSVP needed. Hope to see you...and meet some of you for the first time.

Week 6 Softcore Edition

For those of you who remember the stealthy way my sister dominated so many weeks last season, you may be feeling some deja vu here. The quiet winner of second place this week, and the person in second overall, is Laurie Sexton. We join this conversation with Laurie already in progress

Me: So what's your secret? You weren't even in this thing last year!
Laurie: You're really making much too big a deal of this.
Me: Come on, dish. I'm pretending somebody's reading this.
Laurie: Alright. I watch a lot of that Ron Jeremy guy on ESPN.
Me: I beg your pardon?
Laurie: You know, the guy who breaks down game film for his viewing audience.
Me: Ummmmm
Laurie: He's really good, especially the stuff about blocking schemes and maximum protection.
Me: Laurie, I think you're talking about Ron Jaworski.
Laurie: Whatever. Same difference.
Me: Well...not exactly....
Laurie: Anything else, or can I go now?

Aside from Laurie's second place finish, a note of congrats to Team Dean and Marlene, who recovered nicely after being robbed blind by Dallas last week and win the big five-oh this time.

I finally posted the financials and they can be found by clicking here. So how does this work? Check the Balance column. If there's a number in parentheses there, that's me owing you for winnings to date. If there's a zero, we cool. If there's something else there, you will soon be paid a visit by 345 lb former Packer Grady Jackson, now of the Falcons. He is my new entry fee enforcer and has been told that you are a barbeque sandwich.

That is all for this time.

Third time's the curse

I have one of those credit cards that pays back 1% on purchases made. It had been quite a while since I last cashed in, so last Friday, I called in.

"Hello!" said the cheerful, heavily-accented voice on the other end. "My name is Justin! How may I help you?"

Okay, "Justin" it is. I gave him all the particulars and in short order, he ordered up a nice tidy check made out to me as a reward for my loyal usage of his company's branded credit card. "Anything else I can help you with sir?"

"No thanks, but I appreciate the help."

"Now sir, before I let you go, I see you aren't enrolled in our payment insurance program..." (at this point I started thinking of more interesting things like status meetings)..."so can I interest you in this program?"

"No thanks, that won't be necessary...just the check."

Justin's pleasant demeanor changed a bit at this point and we said our goodbyes.

Well, today, a half-dozen gift cards from The Gap showed up, with a combined value of about half of what I cashed out. I don't know what the point of telling you this is, other than to speculate that Justin's performance was the second of two thilly-ath turnabouts in the last 24 hours that are eating me up, the first being the Packers' play calling in the second half last night. These things tend to travel in threes, so I don't even want to guess what tomorrow might bring.

But, on the brighter side, I'm set for blue jeans for the next 13 years.

This just in. A picture of Marlene Margulius:



This week's jackpot was OWNED by Team Dean and Marlene for 59 minutes and 58 seconds tonight. Their contrarian methodology (16 on Buffalo) has gotten them close many times before, and a rookie placekicker wasn't going to rob them from 53 yards out. Right?

Only he did, putting Dave Stellick in first this week, and Steve Krier three behind in second place. Congratulations, fellas.

Haven't forgotten the financials. I'll get them posted soon. Please remain calm.

Has anyone else noticed the juxtaposition of good and evil around the Cowboys these days? Richie Cunningham at quarterback and Lex Luther in the owner's box? Just wondering.

Week 3, Oktoberfest Edition

Tough week. But when the chips are down, really down, you know marketing will be there to pick us right back up again. I didn't know what could possibly be worse than our collective scores this week until Anheuser-Busch's normally formidable ad agency rolled out this masterpiece:

Think back to the best beer you've ever had...and now get ready to top it. Budweiser.

Yup, seriously. A-B will be held responsible for the spontanteous combustion of at least 1,329 German Brewmasters.

Two guys in the pool aren't complaining much about their scores this week. Or if they are, Ed Hochuli will be over shortly to kick their asses.

"Al Davis touched me like this once. To this day, he wears Wal-Mart sweatsuits."
These gentlemen are Joe Mittnacht (first place in a landslide) and Chris Reuther (second). The results will stand regardless of the outcome of the game going on right now that features the Cincinnati "Who dey? And do dey play D?" Bengals vs. the New England Patriot Acts.

Sometimes when the favorites go down en masse, we have one or two smartypant-types who spoil the curve by betting heavy on a Murderer's Row of, say, Atlanta, Kansas City, and Buffalo. That's not the case this week, as all scores suffered and we more or less wound up with a push. And things could be worse. You could be Norv Turner. Or the Mets.

Back shortly with a link to the finances and the usual threats about paying up the entry fees. I need a new enforcer now that Tammy Faye has gone to that great makeup counter in the sky.