Cousin Ed, aka "The Champ"

After spending most of the season under unwarranted suspension by our esteemed joke of a commish, I am just now getting to read the jealous rantings  postings of Mike and Kev following Cousin Ed's total domination of our football league this past season.  If I'd had posting privileges I'd have sent my sincere congratulations to The Champ earlier and defended him from the vicious attacks from his envious siblings.

Both of these scumbag rats league members have insinuated that Ed never picked a single winner - that all of his picks were made by Patrick.

Now, clearly Patrick is smarter than either of these whiners, as is my wife's walking cane.  But to suggest that Cousin Ed is unable to win the league on his own is pure folly.  Cousin Ed could toss darts at a pick-em board and beat Mike, Kev, or any combination of the two, at any sport you name.

I know.  I've seen him in action.

Cousin Ed has always displayed the demeanor of a quiet, unassuming. . .well, let's face it - a wallflower.  Harmless.  Wouldn't hurt a fly.  Quiet, laid back, slow going, wouldn't hustle his ass to a horse trough if said ass was on fire.

Well, don't be fooled by this façade.  He is every bit a hustler, a cold-hearted assassin, and a wealthy one at that.  After spending 21&1/2 years in college, he went to work for the government.  That alone makes him mountains above his sibs in the brains department.  While Mike and Kev toiled away in the classroom at near slave wages lessening the odds that any of their students would amount to damned thing, Cousin Ed lived the good life.  Chair tilted back, feet stretched on his desk, leisurely perusing the morning newspapers digesting boxscores, stats, and the quarter times of the fastest ponies.   Cousin Ed turned odds into a sure thing.  He bought a share of Secretariat at a time when the rest of us thought he was a politician. 

I remember when our beloved Red Sox blew another one to the Yanks in 2003.  I thought he was just consoling me when he said:  "Ah, don't worry Cuz, just wait'il next year." 

While the government was depositing obscene amounts of money into his checking account, Cousin Ed was off on a private jet to Mason City, Iowa, where a long, black limo spirited him to the other side of I-35 to the Sands Ballroom in Clear Lake where he would listen to the music of his beloved Buddy Holly, imagining the adoring applause during his final concern on that long ago cold, snowy night.

That'll be the day,
when you say goodbye-eye
Yea, that'll be the day,
when you make me cry-eye

And what is Cousin Ed doing today?  Well, in between monthly cruises on the world's finest luxury liners he's . . . wait a minute!  Cousin Ed isn't retired!  He's cruising around the world while still depositing those paychecks, still playing the ponies . . . why, retirement isn't even on the horizon!

And Mike and Kev don't think Cousin Ed is smart enough to win our pick-em league???  Bwaahaahaaahaaa.  What a joke.

I'm tipping my hat to you Cousin Ed.  You are my hero.  Long live The Champ!

With all my respect,

Cousin Wayne