Caller ID indicated it was Glorious Editor on the line. He was not a guy I’d been anxious to hear from.
With more than a bit of dread in my voice, I picked up, “Hello.”
“Hey, Seedy, this is Mike.”
“Well, getting right to it, we’ve got problems. The home office is wondering what’s going on with your weekly football predictions? My boss, not a guy you want to cross, trust me, was not in a good mood, screaming in the phone when he and I chatted, ‘Rutherford, what’s wrong with this guy, Seedy? After the dumbkopf left Alabama out of his preseason CFP, picking Wisconsin and Washington, for heavens’ sake, you assured me he was an expert and knows what the hell he’s doing. That he’d be fine. Well, he hasn’t picked more right than wrong since the second weekend of the season. My beloved calico WoodyBear could do a better damn job, and, despite her name, she hates football. Get this fixed immediately, Rutherford, or send that idiot packing.’ . . .
“. . . yo, Seedy you still on the line?”
“Uh, uh, yeah, Mike, I hear you.”
“Do you really hear me, Seedy? I’m a company man. If the home office is unhappy, I’m unhappy. Your worthless weekly picks and blather, which aren’t nearly as clever as you might think, are not cutting it.”
“I hear you, Mike.”
“Well, Seedy, hear me now and believe me later: Either you start showing some expertise or you are Sayonara. Adios amigo. Arrivederci. Auf wiedersehen. Yesterday’s tweet. Outtahere. Capeesh? You feelin’ me?
“One more thing, Seedy, you have no buyout. Understand?”
“But . . .”
This week’s picks: Continue reading Seedy K’s Peerless Pigskin Prognostications: Week VII