NFL Football Free Picks

Scene 1: Act 1

We open on a swanky bar, sundown and balmy – it is the Four Seasons in Austin Texas

The Players:

Jiggy

Jiggy’s Work Associate One – AKA The Doctor

Jiggy’s Work Associate Two

Work Associate Two’s Female Friend

DOCTOR: Mr. Jiggy, I do declare that this here bar has the best Margaritas in these United States of America.

Jiggy: That so?

DOCTOR: I do reckon so.

Jiggy: I’m afraid that The Jiggy only drinks Whiskey.

DOCTOR: So be it Mr. Jiggy, but I am here to imbibe them fine margaritas.

Enter heavyset, yet somewhat attractive bar wench

Wench: What can I get for y’all?

Jiggy: Gentleman Jack, rocks for me.

DOCTOR: I will be more than honored to enjoy one of your fine margaritas

JWA2: Dirka, Dirka.

DOCTOR: My less than eloquent compatriot is trying to explain his desire for one of those margaritas as well. And the not so young and not so charming lady at the table will have a nice Chablis – the finest this establishment has to offer.

Jiggy: Tell me Doctor, how have you been enjoying my wagering advice.

DOCTOR: Quite frankly Mr. Jiggy we truly are living in fat times – fat indeed.

Jiggy: Amen Doctor, Amen.

Drinks arrive

DOCTOR: Let us drink to the picking prowess of the most prolific prognosticator of our day – Mr. Jiggy.

This very real scene illustrates the direct effect that Jiggy is having on our time and our economy – The Doctor doesn’t always go with the top shelf booze, only when the winnings are coming – like they have been for the last three weeks.

Needless to say that the night continued and the drinks kept a-flowing. We found ourselves on the other side of the river – drinking Texas Martinis at a place whose name has fallen squarely into the part of the mind that is first drowned by the drink. The next stop was the Fado, an outdoor bar where the festivities continued. The Doctor and I traded barbs and then rounds of booze. All the while people kept moving about.

To say that the night ended well would be an overstatement – but there were glimmers of hope. When the Doctor moved in on some unsuspecting prey (she was Mexican, beautiful and flanked by a tall brit) the night had one of its high points. His opening line was slurred, but pregnant with innuendo, ‘is that guy your boyfriend?’

She coyly responded ‘no,’

‘I suspected as much - Excellent then tonight you shall be mine – off to the hotel’

She demurred and the moment was lost.

Then there was the girl with the red bra straps – she too narrowly escaped.

But then there was the waitress – we’ll call her Melody. She and the Doctor couldn’t help but share shots, longing glances and lingering touches.

In the end, that romance remained unconsummated – but numbers were exchanged.

The evening ended as all evenings like this do, with powdered donut gems and lies.

Dear readers, I hear your pleas, ‘oh jiggy, what does this have to do with football?’

And my answer young readers is that when you are going 4-0 and 2-1 you needn’t talk football, you only need to speak of the benefits reaped from that plentiful field.

Additionally, my mind is still swimming in booze and I cannot even read the spreads.

Last week was intense and wonderful –

Huge ups for the Jewish quarterback and the slightly retarted receiver that just wouldn’t give up. Yes, the Dolphins have finally won a game. Though I was too chicken to pick them, I did involve them in an attractive teaser that paid Mr. Jiggy.

The Jags also came to town and came angry (porn jokes are restricted to the AC column). I could go on about how awful Payton Manning is – but I have said it so many times. I do want to mention that Payton took some time out of his game preparation recently to get involved politically – he donated $2,000 to GWB’s campaign. As if I needed another reason to hate the guy. Political views aside, he had many chances to win that game and put the Jags away – but he choked. He choked like a NY Yankee. Eff Payton I say.

Big props go out to Matt Hassleback and his merry bunch of morons. Maybe the youthful speed of the Cardinal backfield was too much for the vaunted Seahawk defense. It seems interesting that the big loss to the rams has sent this team to the cellar where they are continuously molested by the creepy uncle that lives down there. Alas and alack. Eff the birds.

The Aint’s suck – but the raiders are worse.

The KC Chiefs just used up all of their points for the entire season.

And I want to give a special shout out to the Bills for turning the ball over like 400 times in the redzone and allowing the Ravens D to score twice. Thanks.

The walking wounded versus the barely walking wounded. Although Denise Erickson (spelling intentional) is one of the stupidest men alive – this is not an exaggeration, it is a verifiable fact – the Niners are starting to show some life. They have now won one game.

Seriously, the offense is starting to click and a few of their formerly injured players are coming back on defense. And Craig ‘pretzel’ Krenzel isn’t going to be a threat. Look for the niners to win 7-3.

The streak lives and the angry defense that made Chad Pennington look stupid now get to feast on big Ben Rothlisberger. This one should be ugly – but look for the Patriots to roll.

Agggh. I really dislike Mr. Fisher. And I made some good green on the Bungles on Monday – but a wise man once told me – never bet on the team that won the previous Monday night. So we have a team that got trounced (your Tenny Titans) and a team that used up every ounce of might they had. This should be a laugher. Remember the Titans.

This pick further proves that I am all about the money. I don’t like the colts, I don’t like Gayton Manning (or his ugly beard – that means wife) and I don’t particularly like Edgerrin (from where? The U) but the Dolts are going to bring everything they have and the Chefs are still fellating each other over their basketball score last week. The Chefs are going to fall apart and the Dolts will be happy to show them how real football is played. Enjoy the Dolts massacring the chefs.