JEFF JOHNSON PICKS YOUR BETS - A SUPER BOWL PREDICTION UPDATE (SECRET WORD: RADIO)

I was hoping to have the script below recorded this week, but alas, time got away from me. And so did access to a decent studio. It may happen later today, in which case pretend you haven’t read this post (not that you are going to, anyway—nothing is 100% guaranteed in life, I know, gadzooks, I am lucky just to have…oh, never mind) and in fact, don’t even read this post, simply click out of it, and look in the newer posts for the magic. It will say SUPER BOWL and RADIO somewhere in the headline. Even if those words are not the headline, keep on reading.
(Update: I got it done. Click below to listen...)

JEFF JOHNSON PICKS YOUR BETS - AFC CHAMPIONSHIP '09

Hey, here’s two teams who really don’t cotton to one another! No shit. The Steelers have beaten the Ravens twice already this season. When they played in 1937, the game actually involved rolling cannons filled with hot coal and birch cinders. Actually, the contents of each cannon were shot into the stands at fans who cheered too loud and did not adhere to the necktie dress code. Their burns were subsequently treated with gasoline and duck fat.

JEFF JOHNSON PICKS YOUR ETC - NFC CHAMPIONSHIP

Well, I wrote that I was bored last week by the playoffs, and of course, most of the games were not at all boring. Crazy, right?!?! This would be the place where I would insert the word “FAIL” and then some little guffaws if I were a fucking moron. The Giants turned into the Jets, and will not be going to the playoffs. I neglected to read what any of the New York media wrote about that. All I know is that Eli Manning went from mouthbreather-to-Champ-to-mouthbreather all in about the time it takes to get through Dr. Zhivago.

JEFF JOHNSON PICKS YOUR BETS - AFC EDITION '09

Baltimore Ravens at Tennessee Titans

Stubbly Titans QB Kerry Collins is looking more and more like a soap opera surgeon who has nearly lost everything because he started getting high on his own anesthesiologist’s supply, and is now suspended and has resigned himself to hiding from his imagined pursuers in the bushes of a woman named Jessica, while wearing implausibly stained chinos, and pretending to speak Russian (it’s really Pig Latin) into a battery-less walkie talkie.

He carries himself this way, too.

JEFF JOHNSON PICKS YOUR BETS - NFC EDITION '09

Arizona Cardinals at Carolina Panthers
Philadelphia Eagles at NY Giants

Weatherman says rain in Charlotte on Saturday night. 60 percent chance. Won’t make much for passin’ around a football, I spose. Says a fella with them tiny jeweler’s hands like ol Kurt Warner might just up and drop the pigskin all over. Chase it around like a greased baby kangaroo, or sumpin. Might accidentally give the gul darn thing a kick when he’s aimin to fetch it with his mitts. That’s what the weatherman says, anyway.

Sorry. I was trying to channel an extreme West Texas version of Tommy Lee Jones, because truth be told every team left in the playoffs is boring the living shit out of me.