WEEK NINE PICKS
Er, okay, I lo-laws-lass-la-lo okay deep breath, lost last week. To a computer. That's right. Scoreboard update: Tim 2, Computer 1 (with one tie).
In fact, it was so bad, so outrageous a series of outcomes that my overall picks record in this here contest between man and machine fell to 6-3-1 while bag of bolts on the strength of an undefeated week moved to 7-3. Some might say that Tim is actually behind in this game. I prefer to stick with the weekly score!
If you missed the beginning of all this you can visit the Week 5 Picks for a rehash.
Time for our weekly humor interlude, and I clearly need a shot in the arm to help me recover from the trauma of week eight. Consequently it's back to Monty Python:
Ovine Aviation Sketch
(A tourist approaches a shepherd. The sounds of sheep and the outdoors are heard.)
Tourist: Good afternoon.
Shephrd: Eh, 'tis that.
Tourist: You here on holiday?
Shephrd: Nope, I live 'ere.
Tourist: Oh, good for you. Uh...those ARE sheep aren't they?
Shephrd: Yeh.
Tourist: Hmm, thought they were. Only, what are they doing up in the trees?
Shephrd: A fair question, and one that in recent weeks 'as been much on my mind. It's my considered opinion that they're nestin'.
Tourist: Nesting?
Shephrd: Aye.
Tourist: Like birds?
Shephrd: Exactly. It's my belief that these sheep are laborin' under the misappre'ension that they're birds. Observe their be'avior. Take for a start the sheeps' tendency to 'op about the field on their 'ind legs. Now witness their attempts to fly from tree to tree. Notice that they do not so much fly as...plummet.
[Baaa baaa...flap flap flap...whoosh...Thud.]
Tourist: Yes, but why do they think they're birds?
Shephrd: Another fair question. One thing is for sure, the sheep is not a creature of the air. They have enormous difficulty in the comparatively simple act of perchin'.
[Baaa baaa...flap flap flap...whoosh...thud.]
Trouble is, sheep are very dim. Once they get an idea in their 'eads, there's no shiftin' it.
Tourist: But where did they get the idea?
Shephrd: From Harold. He's that most dangerous of creatures, a clever sheep. 'E's realized that a sheep's life consists of standin' around for a few months and then bein' eaten. And that's a depressing prospect for an ambitious sheep.
Tourist: Well why don't just remove Harold?
Shephrd: Because of the enormous commercial possibilities if 'e succeeds.
-- Monty Python's Flying Circus
Ah ha ha ha, hoo hoo hoo, ah yes, feeling much better after that. Of course there are those who say Tim is not that unlike our friend Harold, the clever sheep...
Back to business, it's me vs the O/D Ranks machine spewing forth its venemous data (yeah, there was some research article posted about all this nonsense, Read it here).
To Battle then!
The O/D Machine whirrs and grates, clangs and bangs, rocks and socks, churns and learns and ultimately spits out one solitary selection --
the rules for Mr. O/D Computer are that a pick only qualifies if the O/D Line is 7 points away from the vegas spread. Thus my humbled foe puts all the marbles on: Oakland.
Without resorting to devious bits and bytes bottlenecks to solve this connundrum, mojo working professional football bettor mister Tim is ready to take back command in this challenge.
That's correct, I'm going with the Randy Moss mayhem show to trump the computer pick
