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By Lyle Fitzsimmons - Sometimes you’re the pit bull. Other times, you’re the mailman.
As I lamented six months ago in this space, writing season-ending columns has never been a strong suit – largely because of my ineptitude when it comes to long-range predictions.
And while I have no problem copping to my own inadequacy, my mea culpas are too-often drowned out by the “look at me, I’m super smart” wise guys manning blogs and message boards near you.
Funny how, when January comes, no one ever seems to have made a bad guess a year earlier.
“Yes, I predicted a hang glider would interrupt the right in round seven,” one genius claims, barely above the din created by another mastermind, who steadfastly professes “I absolutely knew Tyson would go to the ears in the third.”
Kind of hard to compete with that sort of brilliance, no?
So as the intellectual remedy to my prolonged prognostication illness, I decided 2011 would be the year I pre-empted the fray and gave my post-annum awards 12 months in advance of judgment day.
A risky play, but one rife with possibility if you get it right.
As usual, though, that’s not really a danger when it comes to me.
Following through on trends of years past, my calendar-beginning forecasts have resulted in the same collection of silliness I’ve always known.
The only difference this year is that the evidence is accessible. [Click Here To Read More]
As I lamented six months ago in this space, writing season-ending columns has never been a strong suit – largely because of my ineptitude when it comes to long-range predictions.
And while I have no problem copping to my own inadequacy, my mea culpas are too-often drowned out by the “look at me, I’m super smart” wise guys manning blogs and message boards near you.
Funny how, when January comes, no one ever seems to have made a bad guess a year earlier.
“Yes, I predicted a hang glider would interrupt the right in round seven,” one genius claims, barely above the din created by another mastermind, who steadfastly professes “I absolutely knew Tyson would go to the ears in the third.”
Kind of hard to compete with that sort of brilliance, no?
So as the intellectual remedy to my prolonged prognostication illness, I decided 2011 would be the year I pre-empted the fray and gave my post-annum awards 12 months in advance of judgment day.
A risky play, but one rife with possibility if you get it right.
As usual, though, that’s not really a danger when it comes to me.
Following through on trends of years past, my calendar-beginning forecasts have resulted in the same collection of silliness I’ve always known.
The only difference this year is that the evidence is accessible. [Click Here To Read More]
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