So, ski (a pseudonym he uses since he is on the run from the Freemasons) and I had this bet on the Super Bowl. I had the Steelers, he had the Seahawks. Whoever's team lost would have to write a letter of concession on the other's blog, being humble and forthcoming in their praise of the winner's skills in predictions. I don't think this quite qualifies:

Like a former major leaguer, I stand before you humbled and humiliated. Unlike the wise and omniscient author of this site, I failed to predict the winner of this year's Super Bowl. Sure, everybody and their mother picked the Steelers to win, but we're not here to talk about the past.
What really matters is the kids, and nobody cares more about the kids than Scott. (From what I hear, much like Bill Murray in Kingpin, Scott volunteers to spend much of his time with the single moms and their kids.) And nothing sets a better example for the kids than picking Super Bowl winners. But we're not here to talk about the past.

So congratulations to Scott for correctly picking the winner of the Super Bowl, much like Pete Rose you have a highly profitable future as a professional gambler. You remind me of a famous historical prophet, Nostradamus. Today, Nostradamus' predictions of armageddon can be seen in grocery store newstands across the country. And Scott's prediction carries the same value as the magazines which run the predictions of armageddon. But we're not here to talk about the past.

Ok, the "humbled and humiliated" part I can dig. Everything else is just blatant sarcasm, which is totally beneath a football blogger and has no place on the internet. I expected a good old-fashioned ball washing. Instead, I get compared unflatteringly to Nostradamus. Well, guess what. Even 500 years ago, Nostradamus knew the Steelers were going to win. From Century II, the 6th quatrain:

Near the gates and within two cities
There will be two scourges the like of which was never seen,
Famine within plague, people put out by steel,
Crying to the great immortal God for relief.

So, back when football consisted of soldiers kicking around the heads of their slain enemies for amusement, an obviously autistic Frenchman, while battling the plague, predicted the winner of the Super Bowl. Ski, on the other hand, an educated, 21st century man who is on the bleeding edge of technology and obviously closely follows the game of modern football, did not.

My predictions may not be worth the $3 price tag of the World Weekly News (in fact, I'm quite sure they aren't), but at least I wasn't shown up by a Frenchman.