This site created and edited by RaceZing Designs . We'll sit around and toss out scenarios, throwing them against the walls of our e-mailboxes to see what sticks, and what trickles to the floor. It's a ritual. Last year, I correctly predicted Bobby Labonte to win the Championship. It's almost an obligation.
Nobody really likes to make predictions.
Such prognostications can have the same effect as graffiti on your house. Even if the odds of success are insurmountable, they'll still develop conniption fits if their heroes aren't predicted to sit at the head table at the Waldorf at the end of the season. They'll spam mailboxes of the writers with pointless venom, and only end up mending their bruised egos. Nonetheless, it's been a boring winter. He has the wrong last name.