There’s no getting around it — my predictions suck. Regular season, postseason, awards. Doesn’t matter whether I use advanced statistic analysis or the more time-honored eeny-meeny-miny-moe method. I never get it right.
I’ll own that. I’ll wear it. But at least my picks are my own.
Flash back to last year, when my colleague Jon Paul Morosi actually picked the Giants over the Tigers at the start of the postseason. Pretty darned impressive, except for one thing: He succumbed to outside pressure just before the World Series and reversed course, going with the Tigers.
Outside pressure from all of his Tiger-loving Michigan pals? Not exactly.
Outside pressure from his mom.
I can assure you that no relative of mine will influence my selections. No relative of mine wants to be anywhere near my selections.