So, lucky me…
Eleven days ago I guessed, based on a combination of zoology, botany,
oceanography, archeology and reversed logic that the Oregon Ducks and
Ohio State Buckeyes would advance to the College Football (really
mean it division) Championship Game.
In a land full of people so bored that they can’t wait to bet money
on groups of strangely clad 18 – 22 year olds beating each other
senseless over an inflated leather bladder, this seems to be a big
deal. It puts me right up there with Jimmy (the racist) Greek, and Eli, the handicapping ape. It’s quite an honor.
So, Headley, who will win tonight’s game?
I could use the same system I used last time – Ducks eat nuts; nuts
do nothing to ducks,
therefore reverse logic dictates the Buckeyes
will win. But if that system worked before, reverse logic dictates
it will never work again.
Being athletically ignorant in mind and body, I’ll have to divine
the outcome through something I know – past blog posts. Searching
my data, I can’t find anything I’ve written about nuts (at least
the kind that grow on trees.) I have written something about a duck,
back in November of 2013. Here’s the link, or if you prefer –
here it is in very tiny print.
Sandy Sue laid an egg every
day! Very unusual for a duck. Even more
unusual was the etching and
coloring on each egg. Sandy was the daily
mother of great masterpieces.
Tuesday it might be a Van Gogh
self portrait, Thursday the unicorn in
captivity, Sunday, the Pieta (a
miracle!) each day a different perfect
representation of a fine work of
art.
Like most artists, Sandy was
frequently misunderstood. Her Warhol
was thought by one park employee
to be debris left from someone’s lunch.
Her Newman was mistaken by many
to be a simple Easter egg. Sandy would
show no offence, no wounded
pride, no artist's pique. She sat in her
little nest by her somewhat
scummy duck pond content to create art for
the purest of motives:
motherhood.
As time passed, she gained a
celebrity among humans rivaled by only
the most accomplished ducks. The
"Sandy Sue appreciation society (the
honorable Donald M Fowler,
president)" numbered more people than the
entire province of Prince Edward
Island. It was inevitable that her
many admirers, seeking a way of
showing appreciation for her art, began
to consider her deplorable living
conditions.
A magnificent new nest was
constructed from the finest silk, with gold
filigree surrounded by tasteful
aquatic bric-a-brac. The nest was
placed beside a radiant pool of
fresh Evian water. Croutons from the
finest French restaurants were
served (a la carte) by children of
impeccable breeding and
education. Strains from Handel's water music
caressed her (imperceptible) duck
ears.
For three days, Sandy nibbled
contentedly and produced an
astoundingly detailed school of
Athens as well as two Gauguin (rather
risqué with so many children
present). The next day she flew away.
A comprehensive search was
initiated by D M Fowler himself. Sandy
Sue was found, chewing on a blade
of grass by her tiny nest.
Risking nasty stains on the knees
of his seersucker trousers, the honorable
Mr. Fowler approached Sandy.
"We've done all we could
imagine to make you comfortable and happy
Sandy Sue. Why is it that you've
left such a lovely environment for
this unsanitary little pond in
such a tawdry city park."
0val rims of green lined deep
pools of thoughtful brown in Sandy's
eyes as she studied her
benefactor.
"Quack," she
replied.
Well – that clears everything up nicely. Martin Motarola (or
whoever that Duck guy they gave the squatting statue to is,) will
have a great first chucker, scoring a field goal, a triple, and a hat
trick. Just before Tea Interval, the nuts will steal the bacon from
the scrum, vault the uneven bars, and let service the golden snitch
off the wicket to lead by a free throw.
Ohio State 21 - Oregon 20 Halftime
Once around the clubhouse
turn the ducks will triple salchow the coxswain and pull out all the
lawn jarts from the head pin as you can plainly see from the
poem/story above.
Final Score: Oregon Ducks 47 - Ohio State Buckeyes 28 (assuming the
East German judge doesn't penalize them for wardrobe malfunction.)
Gee, I hope I’m wrong – I’m already getting too much scrutiny
from Vegas over that Pop Tart crumbs in the roulette wheel incident.
Yeah, it happened a while ago
But if the ghost of Michael has anything to do with it, the Buckeye band might swing the contest.
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