Monday, September 17, 2007

Carson Palmer owes me pizza

I have an almost unstoppable fantasy football team: Peyton Manning, Donovan McNabb and Vince Young at QB. Frank Gore, Adrian Peterson, Willis McGahee, Clinton Portis at RB. Reggie Wayne, Terrell Owens and Randy Moss at WR.
Sure, there's only four teams in our work-based league, but I tend to think I've got a stellar shot at riding my players to the championship trophy.
But thanks to a porous Cleveland defense and the most-improbable shoot-out in NFL regular season history, I will be paying for pizza for the office Tuesday night thanks to a boastful bet made with our sports editor, he of the fantasy team helmed by Carson Palmer — he of the six touchdown passes on Sunday afternoon.
Carson, maybe you can get the Browns' D to chip in a few bucks, as I hold all of you responsible for this wrongdoing. This transgression has almost made me forget how much disdain I have for Bill Belichick and his hoodies.
At least everyone will be eating hot, delicious pizza... Don't think the bankroller of this matter won't be getting a healthy taste.

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The once and future savage outpost for my semi-meaningful thoughts and monologues that are too long for Twitter and not good enough to be sprawled across the front page of every major metropolitan newspaper in America with 120-pt. headlines. Also, the occasional diversion via YouTube.

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Most of the great artists never live to see their work truly appreciated on a global scale... Vincent van Gogh. Johann Sebastian Bach. Keyboard Cat.

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