by Riley Bauling
Daily Lobo
I've got this Magic 8-Ball.
It's not like one of those regular 8-Balls that tells you, "Keep sniffing glue because it ain't coming true" or "Stop sending me queries, your stupidity is just too scary."
OK, OK, the old-school Tyco 8-Balls didn't say that, but it would have been a funnier world if they did - with a lot less self-esteem, but hey, you win some, you lose some.
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This Magic 8-Ball tells me which teams - and which players - will rock every team's Casbah this year.
Sounds crazy, right?
Hear me out first, and even more importantly, let's shake the ball and see what it spews out.
First shake: "Peyton Manning will be brewing moonshine come AFC Championship time."
The Colts tried to schedule the Arena Football 2's Rio Grande Valley Dorados but couldn't find a way to count it on their record.
Indianapolis plays Houston next week for the second time, and the Texans have been begging Tony Dungy to let the game be settled over Rock'em Sock'em Robots. Either that or let stunt doubles fill in for the Texans and be torn limb from limb by rabies-afflicted Dwight Freeney.
He's the reason quarterbacks should be allowed at least a Taser in the pocket.
Chalk up the New England Patriots and Pittsburgh Steelers, says my ball.
Second shake: "The NFC champ won't be a chump, that's why Seattle, Chicago and Carolina will be out like the mumps."
The NFC East resembles a family of six, featuring four brothers all one year apart - all of whom are equipped with ADHD, rubber-band guns, staplers, paste, rope and locked in a room.
Whichever team manages to come out of the trench warfare that is the East will think of the playoffs as a time for lawn chairs, suntan lotion and Care Bears.
Eli Manning won't be able to resist the intoxicating smell of Peyton's perfectly brewed moonshine, leaving the door open for the Dallas Cowboys to reach their first Super Bowl since the Michael Irvin-sniffs-an-exorbitant-amount-of-coke era.
For all of you who say he didn't get busted with coke until 1996 after the Cowboys did their Super Bowl damage, that doesn't mean he wasn't sniffing it.
Third shake: "The MVP shouldn't be no clown, that's why, despite catching heat from readers, picking Drew Bledsoe is the thing to do that is down."
Now, my 8-Ball also has this uncanny ability of doubling as a shield. That's why I'm not putting on my PF Flyers and running for the hills for picking Drew Bled-soe-much-he-needed-a-transfusion.
If the Cowboys top the East and grab home field, why not?
He's slumped as of late, but if he can get back on page with Terry Glenn and Keyshawn Johnson and put up big numbers the second half of the season, no one will remember the first eight games.
He's Drew freaking Bledsoe. Tell me you're not rooting for him.
All right, I got it, you're not, and that's your bad.
Last shake: "Stop using me for your stupid column. Your last name should sound like fallin', not ballin'."
TouchÇ, Magic 8-Ball. TouchÇ.
