Simmons Concedes

Every once in a while, in the face of overwhelming evidence, Bill Simmons is forced to admit that "I'm an idiot." (The "I" in the quote, of course, is Bill referring to himself. This is not me, the humble purveyor of SRAM entries, saying "I". SRAM would never admit to such a thing.)

But you have to be on the alert for these admissions, because they pass by quickly, and then Bill's back to his usual arrogant, wise, all-knowing, Sage of Boston Transplanted to Warmer Climates self. Interestingly, the admissions also came fewer and farther between when the Red Sox and the Patriots were winning world championships, as if their winning validated Simmons' own Smarter-Than-Thou status. But this, of course, is a given among sports fans.

The city of Boston's memorable 2004 not only inflated BS's ego, it also enabled him to ignore the primary quantifiable metric of his all-knowingness: his pick-against-the-NFL-spread percentage, which ended up at around 50.000001% last year. (Okay, a little better than that--but not a statistically significant margin above a coin flip.) Above all, BS was vindicated in his bad-mouthing of Peyton Manning, greatest QB of the current, unnamed decade, when Manning's team laid an egg in Foxborough last January. All in all, a good year for Bill.

2005 has not gone as well for the Sage; neither his teams, nor his anti-Peyton bias, nor his weekly picks (once again) are doing particularly well for him. And in a surprise (some may say shocking) move, he acknowledged as much in last week's NFL picks column.

First he starts by finally giving some props to Peyton Manning, about 5 years too late and at least 1 year after pretty much every other inhabitant on the planet:

Can we all stop with the "Plummer for MVP" crap? His coach wouldn't even trust him to throw the ball on third down with two minutes left in a tie game last week. Come on. Manning is the MVP this year. Even I admit it. He's been awesome to watch these last few weeks. Just awesome. I will now intentionally trip and hit my head on the side of a coffee table.

Stunning! But here's the thing: he wouldn't admit it until (a) the Colts were 11-0 AND, just as importantly, (b) the Patriots had a lousy year. Simmons has no hope that the Pats will beat the Colts in January (having already been thrashed by them in November, of course), so he can't pull the same trick that worked for him so well last year: deny the overwhelming evidence of Peyton's greatness by saying that the only games that matter are in January.

But here's the thing: Peyton is no better this year than he was last year. One could argue, in fact, that he was better last year. (I wouldn't, personally, but "one" could.) The difference, as every other inhabitant on the planet knows, is the defense. But Bill doesn't want to admit this, because that would discredit Tom Brady's three Super Bowls.

Still, a strong step in the right direction, Bill. How do you feel? Great.

BS then goes on to admit that his Pats just aren't that good this year.

Playing the role of the beaten-up star QB who took way too much punishment over the first 10-11 games and is slowly breaking down ... ladies and gentleman, Mr. Tom Brady!

(And yes, the AFC East is the worst division in football. I agree. You can stop sending me that e-mail. Seriously. I'm with you. Heard you loud and clear. Gotcha.)

It's the AFC East admission that's the important part, but I included the part about Brady to point out that this one really isn't that big a step for old BS. What he's really doing--with all of this, really--is circling the wagons and protecting his two Sacred Cows [I'm going to go ahead and allow this one, because you probably had cows going along with wagon trains all the time; and maybe there were a few Asian Indians along for the ride. -Ed.]: Bill Belichick and Tom Brady. Regardless of what happens in this disastrous NFL season, two things must be preserved at all costs: Belichick's genius and Brady's immortality. So Simmons has been playing the injury angle for all its worth this year.

(Injuries? But I thought Belichick was a genius! Didn't they have injuries in 2004, and Coach Bel converted a receiver to CB? Why doesn't he just win one game 16 times again this year? Doesn't seem that tough to me.)

And finally, in what in my opinion is the most shocking admission of all, he actually comes out and admits that his much-ballyhooed (by himself), highly complex and continually refined system for picking NFL games against the spread, is, well, pretty much worthless:

One of the sad things about parity: All my rules from my world-famous Gambling Manifesto have been washed away. You can go against Buffalo, Kansas City and Green Bay at home. You can take a crappy team like the Titans giving more than 7 points. You can take a crummy QB like Gus Frerotte on the road. You can wager heavily against Brett Favre. You don't have to be afraid of a road favorite like Denver in this one. Basically, wagering on NFL regular season games is like playing craps. There's no rhyme or reason to it. I find this mildly depressing.

Again, for anybody else this would hardly be a surprising concession, given that his record against the spread the last couple of years (this year he's 96-92-3) is insignificantly higher than that of an inanimate object. But remember, Bill is pretty heavily invested in his picks as the one quantifiable measure of his superiority to the rest of the world. He actually has readers who place money based on his advice. (Apparently these readers haven't figured out the "Scroll Down" feature on their browser so's to gain access to the guy's season record.) So this is a big deal. Sure, sure, he hedges with the whole "parity" bit, which obviously is pretty bogus (Huh? How does overall parity affect the picking of a given game? And when, exactly, did this "parity" start? 2004? 2005? 1895?), but we take what we can get.

Above all, SRAM is here to pre-emptively declare victory. If the Pats make a surprise playoff run, and/or the Colts lose in the playoffs, let the record state that none of this was foreseen by the Sports Guy.