The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly (and Screech sex)

The Good
My team showed some life in The Keeper, as Clinton Portis, Roy Williams, Andre Johnson, and second-half Eli Manning propelled me to the top score of the week. I’m within striking distance of the lead (I won’t mention who currently sits there, aside from mentioning that he finished there the last two seasons), but there have been some alarming trends:

• Steven Jackson can’t spell TD: The Rims have returned to the ways of “Ground Chuck” Knox, running the ball like it was 1956. Yet the guy who gets at least 20 carries a game, and has managed good yardage each week, can’t cross the fat stripe. Mike Martz probably feels good about the fact that Jeff Wilkins is the most potent fantasy player on the Rims, now that Martz is gone. Of course, Martz runs the O on a team that’s 0-3, but the Rims are boring! Win-loss be damned!
• Jake Delhomme was a bad first pick: Don’t read that as the #1 overall pick; the eight of us each keep between four to six players on our teams from the year before. But I did pick this guy ahead of Donovan McNabb. I figured I’d rather have the QB with a playmaker (albeit one with Clarkinson’s disease) instead of the Campbell’s soup guy who (again) has question marks at WR. As if my 0-for-6 parlay performance wasn’t evidence enough, let me state that I really have no idea what I’m talking about—I just love to type. My fingers are quite dexterous.
• Cadillac’s a lemon(-ass): Scott Mitchell was once described in a fantasy football mag as a “lemon ass,” and I think it’s fair to slap the same label on Cadillac. And should I have expected anything else? He’s fragile. He still has the goal-line hawk Mike Alstott to worry about. His offensive line puts up less resistance than the girls in my junior high who joined the “Finger Bang” club at the hands (literally) of high school scurves. His offensive mates are getting hit so hard they lose their spleens. Does that equate fantasy stud? That sounds more like Kevan Barlow (who also resides on my team).
• Jesus, this was supposed to be the “Good” section?
  

The Packers won! I bet it was a good game. I wouldn’t know, since the year I don’t get the NFL Sunday Ticket is the year the local markets stop showing the Pack, but the final score looked nice. I did see some highlights, including the Jennings TD. Do you think Dre Bly might have had a case for holding on that play? Driver (or whoever) gets a hand on Bly, Jennings runs by, and Bly turns and gives chase with his shoulder pads suddenly flopping outside his jersey. But if they don’t call a penalty, it’s a great block. So that was a great block. Just tell me Favre comes out slinging every game. Why bother with the run? We have no run blocking. We have no running back threat. (Ahman? Please.) Hence, we have no running game. McCarthy can eat a dick: Get FOUR in a rhythm early and keep us in games.

The Bad
My fantasy baseball team (currently named “Team Waiver Wire”) is getting thumped in the championship round. I managed to knock out Matt and another of his relatives before going in the tank in the finals. But hey, I didn’t expect to make the playoffs, much less the championship round, so getting my ass handed to me in the finals almost qualifies as “Good.” My team name is derived from my daily adding and dropping of at least three starting pitchers in an effort to win the Wins and Ks categories (and potentially ERA and WHIP, although waiver dudes probably won’t help those causes). Our league has no cap on roster moves, so I might as well go through the loophole.

The Ugly
OK, I’m ZERO-FOR-FUCKIN’-SIX in the parlay picks. I’m thinking about letting my not-yet-crawling son pick my games for me. I figured I’ll put an odds sheet on the floor in front of him, and whichever two teams he drools on first will be the picks. Like it could get any worse? And I’m not losing heartbreakers, last week’s Bears game excluded. I knowingly took the Falcons last Monday against the Saints IN THE SUPERDOME RESURRECTION GAME? If the NFL could ensure patriotic feeling by having the Patriots win the first Super Bowl after Sept. 11, 2001—I smell conspiracy in everything—shouldn’t I have known there’s no way the Falcons could beat the new “America’s Team”? (Somebody actually called the Saints that.) And I bet on the Notre Dame hype against Michigan? I thought Jake Plummer could beat the Rims in St. Louis? I bet against the Jags in Jacksonville…TWICE? I laid points on the road team in one of those games? I hope Junior slobbers on a couple of winners this week.

The Fugly
While Mario Lopez is dancing with stars, Dustin Diamond is…having sex in front of video cameras. Surprisingly, this is not a one-man show; there are two women romping about with Screech in a 40-minute production. The tape is titled “Saved by the Smell”; if you just threw up a little bit in your mouth, that’s understandable. (Click here for more details.) Couldn’t Tiffani-Amber Thiessen have done this? Or at least Lark Voorhies?