Z. Madison

For when you're relaxing at home or killing company time - Z. Madison's here for you.


It's that most wonderous time of year...

The Yanks and the Mets are likely headed to the playoffs and a possible sequel of the 2000 Subway World Series. Meanwhile, Gang Green and Big Blue are giving me a reason to actually travel to (or at least toss a little respect at) Dirty Jersey. Ah, September...the holiday season of my annual sports calendar.

September's also the beginning of my impending ulcer. Let's leave the torrid will-they-or-won't-they of the Yanks post season appearances since 2000 alone for now. No, what causes me to pop tums like they're tictacs on Sundays (and a few Mondays) is the weekly NFL matchups.

You see, I was honored to be invited to be a part of a friend's suicide league a few years back. I was skilled (read: LUCKY) enough to make it pretty far the first year before Seattle blew big donkey balls and a 24 point lead leading into the last five minutes of the fourth quarter against St.Louis, sending the game into sudden death overtime and my lazy lump of fur flying as I screeched every expletive my dumbfounded mind could summon up against the offending 27" flatscreen Sony Vega not five feet yonder.

Motherfucking Seattle. I will hate on you with a passion normally reserved for the MTA for as long as you remain in that fish tossing town.

But, I digress. It's a new year and new stress to be had as I go through the weekly ritual of research-pick-pray.

Week One's Pick: The Arizona Cardinals. The 49ers are traveling to the desert for this one and the Cards are breaking in their new digs with new talent to boot. The spread is 7.5 points and frankly the buzz about San Fran hasn't been hot since Young rode off into the sunset. Go Cards!


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