An Irish friend once shared the story of a neighbor who went to a pub to see a girl he was seriously smitten with. He downed pint after pint to steady his nerves as he waited for her to arrive, and when she finally did, he barfed all over himself while trying to ask her out. As my friend sadly put it, the young man was skundered.
It’s hard to think of a better term for what happened to the Turduckens in Week 10, as they were viciously deposed from their newly-assumed 1st place-perch by the Dingobros, a lower-middle tier sleeper with a taste for blood and the derailed aspirations of haughty opponents. This wasn’t the only dramatic upset to rain down on Our Beloved League in Week 10: Dark horse HellFire Club stomped the Duestakers like a female protester at a Rand Paul campaign appearance, but the Duestakers somehow managed to cling to 2nd place. And, perhaps most astonishingly, the last-place Lakeviewers FUBAR’d the once-mighty Salukis, who tumbled to 6th place in near-complete disgrace.
Some insiders refuse to buy into the drama surrounding these upsets, pointing out that it all boils down to a bit of shuffling around; Week 9’s top six teams are still Week 10’s top six teams, they say. There is no question, however, that the week’s biggest winners were the aforementioned HFC, who jumped from 5th to 3rd place in the blink of an eye, and Gonk’s Revenge, who, with the relentlessness of a Terminator, completed their seemingly-inevitable climb to 1st place by beating the tar out of the N.O. Brass—an outfit fatally compromised by bye-week holes and impaired-judgment, reportedly due to mixing box-wine with over-the-counter cold medicine.
In other action, Token Female was eighty-sixed by a roid-raging Mental Garbage, while the Wackers scored a freebie-win by virtue of their matchup with the Pulled Hammies, our League’s answer to passing GO in Monopoly. And finally, facing off against the ascendant Dayment, the Blue Devils pulled yet another colossally-flawed offensive scheme out of their toxic catbox of a strategic repertoire, with predictably-tragic results.
We all have to remain on guard against losing focus, with the playoffs a mere four weeks away. A lot can happen in that amount of time, given our current 5-team 7-3 cluster tailed closely by another 3 who are only a game or two behind them. The only thing we can be sure of is that dreams will be shattered and lamentations sung by the unlucky six whose seasons end short of the playoffs. That bracket’s gilded gates will surely slam shut, locking them in the mausoleum-like gloom of our consolation ladder, where their eyes may eventually adjust to the darkness, but their hearts never will.
Ojo Del Tigre!