McManus Picks

Having recently noticed* that I’ve managed just one post since last Thanksgiving, I have decided to make up for it by succumbing to Post Madness†: a post every day until the Patriots lose. That’s at least 11-straight days‡ of original¥ content, whether you want it or not.

Not on the agenda quite yet♥: the Pats’ latest transaction.

Thursday was an eventful day. Tom Brady got in a car accident. Tom Brady signed an extension. I’m sure some other events happened, I was mostly focuse

Thursday was an eventful day for Tom Brady. It also marked the beginning of the 2010 McManus Picks season. I would love to tell you that everyone starts out in first place and that anyone could win this year, but I would love more to laugh at that notion. Here’s a realistic look at everyone’s odds to take home the decade’s first title:

Pat: 6-to-5

Do you really want to bet against the two-time defending champ? And five-time champ? Doubtful. Especially because I control all the results.

Dad: 4-to-1

He was just a Wii bit worse than Pat last year.

Matt: 6-to-1

Many have Matt as a sleeper pick this year. The confines of fatherhood will probably mean he’ll do way too much research for each game.

Joe: 7-to-1

Tim: 7-to-1

Joe’s been knocking on the door in each of his first two seasons. The only other thing I have to say here is that I still laugh every time I think of Joe flinging the Corn Hole sack 20 feet in the air and saying, “Aw, it hit my pant leg!”

Tim’s disappointing 2009 campaign has forced oddsmakers to take him out of the top-three. Also of concern to the oddsmakers: Can he and Willie coexist?

Cait: 10-to-1

With the last two Tiaras in her possession, Cait’s got her eyes set on a bigger goal: breaking the gender barrier and cracking the overall top-five. If it happens, we’ll commend her and snicker at any man she beats.

Erin: 12-to-1

She made strides last year, but has yet to prove that she can threaten Cait for the Tiara. She’ll always have Bananagrams, though.

Mom: 13-to-1

In her first season as Nannie, Vegas is very wary of her increasing tendency to pick cities based on arbitrary associations. These odds could further plummet if she starts inserting extra, fluctuating notes when she sings to Brady (example: “Good Mo-or-ning, Good Mo-or-ning, get out of bed and stop your ya-aw-ning”).

Ciara: 250-to-1

I’m gonna lay down a $5 bet here and then work on creating a McManus Picks app for Ciara’s Droid. My theory: she’s always on that thing!

Marie: OFF

Far be it from anyone to project these odds. Far be it from anyone to root for the Cowboys, either. But far be it to say that Marie couldn’t just win this thing. If she can get away with calling Tim “Honey” on a regular basis, far be it from anyone to know what she’s capable of.

Good luck, everyone. Keep those picks coming.

It might be a little past the halfway mark, but I figured we needed to hand out some mid-season awards to let everyone know where they stand.  In order to do this, I thought we could simultaneously celebrate some of Dad’s most charming quirks.

The “Aw, hey, Mr. McManus!” Award

Description: The player who receives this award must be male, must be a friend of one of Dad’s children, and must be so polite that Dad is pleasantly surprised.

Recipient: Joe.  How’s this for polite: zero last-place finishes, zero first-place finishes, and a polite two spots back of his future father-in-law.  Heck, he even made sure to stay tied with his fiance (a female) a week before the wedding.  Now that is impressive politeness.  Joe, in honor of this, we hereby grant you the right to make a poorly mannered run at the title.  After the 28th, that is.

The Dollar-Three-Eighty Award

Description: Say someone asks you how much something costs, but you don’t want to reveal the price.  A clever response would be, “A dollar-three-eighty.”  It’s funny on several levels.  First, it’s not necessary to round money to the 1000th decimal place.  Second, it sounds like something a wise-cracking, fast-talking comedian from the 1950s might say.  And third, $1.38 is just a pittance.  It’s a comically low and pathetic number.

Recipient: Mom.  The owner of a comically low and pathetic 87 heading into Week 11, Mom has had a rough go of things this year.  She’s finished last three times, tied for worst (unless you’re Ciara).  She has not yet finished first.  And of all the weeks to put up her best performance to-date (13 out of 14 right), she chose Tim’s historic Week 4.  Things just aren’t going Mom’s way in 2009.  Until she picks it up, I’m going to be forced to tack on some extra decimal places to her total score.

The Explosive Finger Snaps Award

Description: This goes to the worst-behaved player in the league.  It’s not so much an award as it is a punishment.  What the recipient gets are some impossibly loud finger snaps and a furrowed brow.  It’s equivalent to making too much noise while Dad is on the phone.

Recipient: Ciara.  No elaboration necessary.

The Crash Test Dummies Award

Description: Several years ago – 2002, maybe? – Dad surprised us all when he bought a Crash Test Dummies CD.  He played it pretty often in the car, especially his favorite track, “Mmm, mmm, mmm, mmm.”  In fact, he even made us sing along, to see if anyone could match the lead singer’s ridiculously deep voice.  It was one of the most unpredictable things Dad has done.  It was particularly unpredictable, too, considering that the CD came out in the mid-90s.  This award, therefore, goes to the league’s most unpredictable player.

Recipient: Matt.  This is for a couple of reasons.  His play has been unpredictable, that’s for sure.  His three first-place finishes are tied for second, while his three last-place finishes are tied for first (among non-Ciaras).  He had a six one week, then made a run at perfection the next.  Wild, zany stuff.  But more unpredictable, perhaps, are his nicknames.  Chief among them: “Pat Eats Fresh,” “Crazy Franklin Face,” two separate references to a giant marshmallow man, and then simply his full name.  Maybe it’s not as random as Dad making us sing, “Birthmarks all over her body!”, but it’s close.

The “Because he ‘Talks like this!'” Award

Description: If you’re a male, you don’t want this award.  Unless ridicule is your drink and at-your-expense is how you take it.  Dad typically – and frequently – uses this phrase to describe someone with a funny-sounding, high-pitched voice.  This award is for a girly performance.

Recipient: Tim.  After another mediocre week, he slipped into second place…in the Pink Tiara Division!  Doesn’t get much girlier than that.  It’s too bad, too.  Until this undeniably girly development forced the award committee’s hand, Tim was in position to receive the unprecedented Poifect! Award.

The Spicy Hiccups Award

Description: When Dad can’t resist spicy food, God bless him, he unfailingly gets a comical case of the hiccups.  This award goes to the player who had to suffer through some hiccups of their own.

Recipient: Erin.  Despite a recent streak of consistency, her total score is still haunted by three last-place hiccups in the first four weeks.  She was, however, able to enjoy a first-place finish in Week 2.  If you like, you could say that her tasty Week 2 was analogous to the few seconds that Dad gets to enjoy medium salsa before the hiccups take over.

The Hi-Debbie-Tim Award

Description: A PMA throwback.  Every time one of Dad’s phone calls started with “Hi-Debbie-Tim” (or occasionally just “Debbie-Tim”), you knew it was all business going forward.  The radio was turned down, talking was out of the question (for fear of explosive finger snaps), and boring business conversation was all that followed.  This award is for 2009’s all-business performer.

Recipient: Cait.  She has been systematically dismantling the Tiara competition all season, she is consistently prompt with her pick submissions, and she has been loyal to her law-firm nickname.  It hasn’t been exciting – hey, it’s been downright boring.  But that’s why she is so deserving of the Hi-Debbie-Tim Award.

The Liberal Superlatives Award

Description: If Dad is known for doing anything willy nilly, assigning superlatives probably tops the list.  That’s why his “Best Place on Earth” distinction has been issued to half-a-dozen spots, including Bar Harbor, Humarock, and the screened-in porch (God rest its soul).  And why Creed’s “Higher” has the greatest intro ever.  Clearly, this award goes to the best player…ever.

Recipient: Pat.  Three first-place finishes, zero last-place finishes.  Remarkable consistency.  Has been comfortably on top for five-straight weeks and counting.  Has only spent three weeks all season as a non-leader.  Always gets his picks in before everyone else.  Um…impeccably dressed.  Et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.  Some might call this own-horn tooting, but it would be foolish not to assign me a superlative of some kind.  I mean, if Arthur and Pat’s is the greatest restaurant of all time, how am I not the best player ever?

The Wodewick at Rosalie’s Award

Description: This could very well be Dad’s favorite pastime.  All the conditions are right: We’re in Bar Harbor, we’re about to eat our favorite pizza, they give Dad a chance to submit any name he wishes, and the person who calls it out always has a funny European accent.  Of course, Dad’s instincts are to exploit this in the name of humor.  It doesn’t always work out quite the way he hopes  (they were never able to pronounce Wadja correctly), but the attempt alone is always entertaining.  For that, the Wodewick at Rosalie’s Award represents the feel-good story of the year.

Recipient: Dad.  A year ago, dogged by a brutal road schedule, Dad posted the worst season of his career (I assume).  He finished 10 points back…in the Pink Tiara Division!  Not to mention seven points back of his spouse.  It was really…awful.  But from the depths, he has emerged.  In an inspiring, bounce-back season, Dad posted three first-places in a four-week stretch and grabbed a share of the lead for the first time in two years (I assume).  After another win in Week 10, he sits alone in second place, just three points behind the leader.   A feel-good story indeed.  You’ve earned it, big guy.  Now please don’t get mad at me for writing this post.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.  We’ll see all of you this week.

What better way to celebrate a Patriots win in London than with a little Monty Python?

“Go and boil your bottoms, you sons of a silly person.  I’ll blow my nose at you.”

To Matt, whose Week 7 performance earned him the right to taunt us several times.  After reeling off 11-straight correct picks, it was looking like he might just threaten Tim’s perfect mark.  But the Giants lost Sunday night (thanks, Joe), breaking up the streak.  And an inexcusable pick of the Redskins brought Matt back down to earth Monday night.  Still, it was an impressive run.  Matt, just remember to use an outrageous French accent when you taunt us.

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“‘Tis but a scratch.”

“A scratch?  Your arm’s off.”

To Dad, who is probably trying to downplay his fall from the top.  He might only be one point down with 10 weeks to play, but he picked the Raiders for Goodness’ sake.  That one will haunt him all season long.  No matter what Dad tries to tell you, it’s far from just a flesh wound.

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“He says he’s not dead.”

“Well he will be soon, he’s very ill.”

“I’m getting better.”

To Ciara, who is ever-so-slightly managing to avoid a sickly death in this year’s contest.  Not only did she kind of participate this past week – “Um, all home teams?” – but after digging up an old email, we were able to retroactively add nine points to her hopeless total.  She still hasn’t managed a non-last-place finish yet, but things are looking up.  Well, maybe just not as down.

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“Would it help to confuse it if we run away more?”

To the Bucs, who looked a lot like Sir Robin on Sunday.  The Pats didn’t look especially good, but it became an easy night at the pitch when all Tampa could muster was a brave retreat.

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“I…am an Enchanter.”

“By what name are you known?”

“There are some who call me…Tim?”

Well, how could we not use this one?

Picks

Just to put Ciara’s historic run in perspective: She’s on pace to score 44 points this season.  If she continued on that pace – and no one else got a single pick right for the rest of the year – she would still be in last place by three points.

Results

Hispanic Heritage night didn’t go the way Mark Sanchez and I planned, which allowed Dad to horde in on my Week 5 glory.  But the ultimate glory – the top-of-the-leaderboard glory – would be mine, thanks to Mr. Flawed’s six-point stinker (out-stunk only by Ciara’s five).

Results

For the first time in league history (probably), a player has achieved perfection.  Tim went 14-for-14 this week, an historic performance that has vaulted him to the top of the leaderboard, cemented his place in the record books, and inflated his already-enormous ego.

His sheet was punched perfect at 11:55 Monday night, when the Vikings suppressed a comeback attempt by their bitter rivals, the Green Bay Packers.  It was so fitting: Tim’s most memorable Picks moment made possible by the emotional heroics of his favorite player, Brett Favre.

“Brett has tickled many things in my life, namely my fancy,” said Tim.  “Now he has tickled my Picks legacy.”

As for his post-perfect strategy, Tim plans to follow in Favre’s footsteps.

“Having now realized that I’m invincible,” he said to no one in particular, “I’m going to engage in irrational decision-making at the expense of others and express no remorse.  I will also adopt more of an aw-shucks attitude and gaily interact with co-workers when other people are watching.”

Will Tim’s new, self-righteous approach work in the long run? Most likely not, it doesn’t even sound like it applies to picking football games.  But the history books don’t care.  They’ve already been written, and Tim’s Week 4 reads this way:

“Perfect.”

The Week 3 picks are up.  Tremendous luck.

I was very tempted to pick the Lions, but didn’t have the noive.  Hats off to those who do.

The Browns, too, were calling my name.  Word is they’ve had a great week of practice.  I didn’t pick them, but I could certainly see why one – heck, several – of you would.

The Rams are an interesting team.  They’ve only scored once this year, but they’ve come really close on a few other occasions.  I’m expecting at least a two-score explosion this week.   You might ask why I didn’t pick them.  Don’t.  Unless you want some aloofness sent your way.

Pick me a winner, Bobby.

Results

Leaderboard

It was a week of inevitabilities…

Confusing nicknames

I’m not sure how many times I’ve repeated this, but you can tack on one more: The picks sheet had a few self-applied nicknames on there that were not entirely obvious.  The winner was “Crazy Franklin Face.”  Not far off was “NostraTIMus,” which I thought was Dad’s at first.  At least Joe had the presence-of-mind (worst sports term, by the way) to attempt a far-fetched nickname, but also provide his actual name: “Ochocinco (Joe).”  No points for poetry, but much appreciated nonetheless.

Ciara, zero points

If I had to draw up a ratio such as this one – “Total computer usage: Amount of picks submitted” – and apply it to every player, Ciara’s career score would be astronomically high.  I would literally LOL at how high it would be.  In fact, her score for this season would be undefined! Don’t be surprised if you find me ROTFL over that.

Pat, first place

My only regret is twice picking incorrectly.

Patriots 25, Bills 24

That’s 12-in-a-row over Buffalo.  My favorite part: The Bills finding yet another improbable way to blow a Monday night game.  My other favorite part: The uniforms…and the fact that they were referred to as the “Boston Patriots” all night.  But my real favorite part: Tom Brady telling his teammates in the huddle that they were going to win, despite being down 11 with 5:32 to go.

But my actual favorite part: After the final preseason game, I had the displeasure of recording Ben Watson’s post-game interview with the media, when they were not-so-subtly insinuating that he might be cut.  He just stood there dejectedly and said things like this: “Whatever happens, happens.  You have to prepare your family for anything.”

A week-and-a-half later, this happened.