Brace yourselves for his unholy reign. It's:
"El Dia Gloriosa Del Ranto Campeonato!"
The Friday Pick Six is an original SCSD! game where six people make six predictions for six weeks. Along with their picks, they're allowed and encouraged to submit a 'sound-off' on any topic, sports or otherwise. When it's all done, the winner earns great honor among the people, while the two losers are exiled in shame and the three middle finishers go to purgatory, with the chance rescue their good name up to three times. To learn more about the rules, and about the current contestants, read more:
Let's take a look at the scores from Week Six:
1. Tom - 9 Points
1. Carrie - 3 Points
3. Shane - -5 Points
3. Jill - -5 Points
3. Spike - -5 Points
6. Nick - -5 Points
And now the final overall standings:
1. Tom - 30 Points
2. Carrie - 27 Points
3. Jill - 15 Points
4. Shane - 13 Points
5. Spike - 8 Points
6. Nick - 4 Points
As you can see, four of us risked much and lost much with last week's DESPERATION OPTION. Carrie wisely abstained, hoping her lead could survive a final reckless onslaught from all those below her. But Tom, lurking in second for much of the Pick Six, behaved like a biker who'd been drafting for an entire race until the last half mile, when he bursts ahead and takes the gold. By picking the Giants, Colts, and Steelers, he gave himself a chance to leapfrog his nemesis. It all came down to Sunday Night Football and a thrilling Colts-Redskins battle for all the marbles. Peyton and the visiting boys in blue pulled it out, 27-24, and Tom was champion. He also broke the unthinkable 30-point barrier. Amazing.
Before we get to his rant, I have an announcement to make: THERE WILL BE A TROPHY.
That is not a giant doorknob. My hope and belief is that this will be sent around from winner to winner, going down in history as one of the world's most prominent pieces of hardware. Maybe famous people will be photographed holding it. Maybe it will take wild adventures around the world. Here's a brief history of the trophy:
1) On the plaque, it says "The Annual Cigar Store Indian Masters Pool." My cousin Justin (Tom's nephew) bought it as a trophy for the winner of a Masters pick 'em pool contested between the four of us. The first year, I won. It took Justin about 3 months to calculate the results, and even longer to send the trophy. I had to badger him forever. The second year, he didn't bother to figure out the results. The third year, there was no Masters pick 'em pool. It's safe to assume that "tradition" is dead.
2) The trophy was named after Joe Torre, who my cousin and others thought looked like a cigar store Indian sitting motionless and unsmiling on the Yankee bench.
3) Nick Swisher has held the trophy. A photograph commemorates the moment.
4) It doesn't have a name. I am so open to suggestions. In fact, a winning suggestion will get a prize, no joke. Part of the chief's headdress is missing. His war lance is slightly crooked (that's what the squaw said!)
And now it's going to Tom. Take good care of it, sir. And transport us now, if you would, with your words of triumph:
I don't know.......it's all so overwhelming right now! Isn't it interesting and profound that one incident can change our lives forever?
I have never experienced being speechless so I intend to forge ahead with this rant. Those who learn of their entrance into Coopertown's Hall of Fame receive a phone call from the prestigious committee immediately after the votes by sportswriters and Hall of Famers are counted. A tense moment in front of an international tv audience surprises the Academy Award winners. Tension filled rooms discover who is the Biggest Loser of the latest segment of the show by the same name. Mega bucks are awarded to the final cutthroat at Survivor's final evening. The world witnesses the final endless moment in penalty time at the championship match of the World Cup. I learned of my victory while in the bathroom this morning, without a cup of coffee in hand when a brief tex message arrived telling me to create this rant by sundown!
It's all so overwhelming right now! This is the age of the "what if" spookology. It all started with a movie I watched last weekend. Without going into it, the "what" and "if" questions forced the storyline to a tender end. I didn't cry.......it wasn't overwhelming.
But what if....Carrie hadn't held the lead for so long in the Pick Six? Would I have worked as hard as I did to upset her destiny? What if.....Shane hadn't made the rules up as we went along so the final week hadn't included a new format by which I overtook Carrie, when it's intention was to keep Shane in the competition for another round? What if....... lovely Jill hadn't been so supportive of me and talked me up so that my self esteem, though waning, held me together for one more series of picks? What if..... Spike's original rant wasn't intended to destroy my golf dreams, let alone my Six Pick dreams? And What if...........Nick wasn't so incompetent in this contest from the very beginning, making even the worst of us feel better about ourselves?
So whether it be my fate (destiny in the wings) or me just being better than my fellow competitors (not intended for you, Jill), I am proud to have been the first to win the Seth Curry Saves Duke! original Pick Six competition. Thank you all (Shane is flashing a cue card to shut me off). I don't know...... it's all so overwhelming right now!
Well done, Tom. Well played. He's a deserving champion, a good Yankees fan, a good stepfather, and he's worked really hard to be a little less pervy the past few years, which is something the whole family appreciates.
Also, if anyone figures out what the hell the "age of what-if spookology" means, let me know.
There's nothing to do now but move ahead, my friends. Pick Six is over, but it must begin again. With that in mind, let's check out how things played out.
By the rules, Carrie, Jill, and myself are in purgatory while Spike and Nick are relegated. But I'm going to step back for the next round and let the readers and contributors take over. Which means:
Purgatory: Carrie, Jill, Spike (you are spared, sir)
Honorable Discharge: Me
Dishonorable Relegation and Eternal Shame: Nick.
And we've got some newcomers! The first three to ask for a slice of the Pick Six pie were Mike (Boston Lawyer), Nick E. (former Dukie, contributor), and the redoubtable team of Swetha & Sabreena (current Dukies, super fans). They've all agreed to write a little something to say hello. Take it away, lads.
Boston lawyer. I have no other recognizable personality traits.
"To tell you the truth, I am a bit roguish and I've a streak of cuteness in me, but it's all covered by the broad cloak of my simplicity, which is always natural and never put on."
(Editor's Note: That first part is not true. Mike is also kind of a douchebag around waiters.)
Hey everyone, my name is Nick. I graduated from Duke in 2009, so like many of my classmates I had a pretty shitty job for a while. The upside of that was I got to spend a lot of time surfing the blogosphere and arguing with strangers on the excellent DBR message boards. Then one day I sent a snarky email to Shane and he was gracious enough to post it; I've been lurking around here ever since. I live and work in DC, so don't be surprised if you hear a few Caps and Wizards shout-outs.
So I read your email about the Pick Six in my semi-sleep state this morning as I was debating whether or not to skip my 11:30 class and all I could think was, what the hell, Shane gave us homework?
Whatup readers! I'm Swetha and have the privilege of introducing our team for this round of the Pick Six. So Sabreena and I are both seniors at Duke, which means we will be losing our student section privileges this May, but it's okay since we'll have our degrees? We're both big Duke basketball fans and obviously, fans of the blog. In terms of our sports knowledge, Sabreena will be supplying the majority of it, since my contribution will be limited to college basketball and identifying athletes with good bone structure.
I was going to wait until Tennessee came up in one of the picks to do this, but then I got really nervous that may not ever happen, so here is possibly my favorite YouTube video ever.
It's probably in poor form to be revealing our strategy to the competition so early, but this is why we will always have to pick against Tennessee, regardless of whether it's the smart choice or not.
And Jill had some words as well...
If you weren’t around to witness my scorching third-place victory in the inaugural Pick Six, I am back. Things you should know: I graduated from Duke in 2005; like Shane, I crossed over to the dark side and went to UNC for law school; I am a die-hard Yankees and Blue Devils fan; I am a human rights attorney in New York City; I can juggle; I miss the original 90210; and I am sort of maybe okay totally a tad competitive. Consider yourself forewarned.
I want to send out a big congrats to Tom, a native Long Islander like myself and an all-around great guy. He outsmarted everyone and deserved the championship, as he was the only person who correctly predicted the sixth pick of week six of Pick Six. A+, Tbone. I also give major props to Carrie, who made selections based upon uniform colors and was once “sad to root against that man with all the hair,” perhaps my favorite line from the original Pick Six; I would have loved for a female to win. Personally, I am very happy to be stuck in purgatory. I did not want my final Pick Six words to be "The Rapist returns and scores another conquest." So there we have it.
Welcome, newcomers. Bring it, bitches. And let’s go Yanks!
Carrie and Spike neglected to sound off. They are presumably hard at work, studying potential match-ups in order to conquer their personal demons and claw their way out of purgatory.
Yankees at 8pm. This is it. Now or never. This is where the good guys fight for one more shot at that scoundrel son of a bitch Cliff Lee. Just one more. That's all we ask. We'll send that corrupted son of Arkansas right to the fucking moon.
There will be a special weekend post tomorrow morning, believe. Duke is already #1. Happy Friday.