If you're just killing time, take a seat and have a listen. I've come up with a method of projecting all sorts of things -- from sleepers and busts to playing time, even major injuries and blockbuster trades -- without looking at a single statistic. The secret is in the title. Unscramble the letters of "a sad fact I envy" and you've got "fantasy advice." That's called an anagram. Far from a trivial waste of time, anagrams may hold the key to your fantasy season, as they reveal a great deal about certain players.
For example, are you considering drafting Giant rookie RB Ron Dayne? Reconsider, says the anagram. "Ron Dayne" = "non-ready". You heard it here first, Dayne will struggle mightily adjusting to the NFL. Worse yet, "Ron Dayne" = "none yard". Wow, not a single yard for the Giants' prized prospect. Surprising to say the least, but completely unassailable. What about some of the other first-round rookies? Will they fare better than Dayne? Well, it appears that the Ravens' Jamal Lewis will do a lot of talking, but his production will be minimal: "Jamal Lewis"="Me is all jaw". Another rookie RB exhibits a common problem with anagram-based projections: namely, that they are sometimes so deep and profound that their meaning is tough to decipher. They require interpretations which are not always obvious. "Shaun Alexander" = "run as axe handle". Hmmmm, how exactly, does an axe handle run? I think I'd prefer it if he ran like the actual axe itself, but then his name would have to be Su Axaner, and that's no good. Before we leave the rookies, note that "Plaxico Burress" = "Score six, burlap!" Burlap could make a very nice nickname for Plaxico. Or, if you prefer, "Plaxico Burress" = "six as probe curl". This bodes well for Burress owners, as it appears he will be probing zone defenses and scoring several TDs on curl patterns.
Moving on, let's turn our attention to one of my favorite players for this year, Curtis Martin. "Curtis Martin" = "Can I trim rust?" Evidently, Curtis will fall victim to some sort of injury. He'll come back in midseason, but the anagram doesn't seem to know if he'll shake the rust. The wisdom of the anagram is displayed in its full glory when we ask Martin's backup, Bernie Parmalee to anagram Martin's name. Hey, Bernie, will Martin come back from his injury? "Curtis Martin" = "Curt ran. I'm sit." There you have it; Martin will indeed return strong, relegating Bernie to the bench. Before we leave Curtis, let's ask him if he has any tips for us on picking WRs. "Curtis Martin" = "In Marc I trust".
Marc, eh? That's got to be Bears' wideout Marcus Robinson. But it seems all Marcus wants to do is talk about his fellow WR, Randy Moss. Hey Marcus, how would you compare yourself to Randy? "Marcus Robinson" = "Moss can rob, I run". So Robinson fancies himself more of a burner, whereas Moss will continue taking the ball away from smaller DBs, at least let's hope that's the kind of robbery Robinson was implying. Speaking of Randy and his off-field activities, here's one for the gossip column: Moss will get married this year. The proof is in the anagram. "Randy Moss" = "Mrs. Sony ad". We all know that Moss, with his semi-animated PlayStation spots, is Mr. Sony ad. It appears that he will now add a queen to his kingdom -- possibly the badass cartoon girl from the same commercial.
While we're on the topic of wideouts, have you ever looked at Isaac Bruce and seen a young Jerry Rice? The anagrams have. "Isaac Bruce" = "Rice as a cub". That's certainly good news for Bruce owners in keeper leagues. Also, the anagrams expose an interesting war of words between Antonio Freeman and Deion Sanders: "Antonio Freeman" = "I ream on fat neon". Pretty strong words, there. Deion's response? "Deion Sanders" = "And I'd sneer so". Evidently, Sanders isn't too worried. The primary interest of this little spat is that it helps us forecast the playoffs. Note that the Packers and Redskins don't play during the regular season. Thus, they must meet in the playoffs. Either that, or one of Freeman or Sanders will be traded. We'll have another blockbuster trade a little later in the article.
Let's run through a few top RBs. Should you draft Duce Staley this year? The answer is crystal clear: "Duce Staley" = "a dulcet yes". Can the anagrams give us a clue about what his season will be like? "Duce Staley" = "clue: steady". Just as I suspected; another workmanlike effort from Duce. On a more sobering note, it doesn't look good for the Corey Dillon. Hey Corey, what kind of feelings do you have toward Bengals' management? "Corey Dillon" = "only cold ire". Better not draft Dillon. Another unwise choice would appear to be Stephen Davis, who won't be completely healthy according to the anagrams: "Stephen Davis" = "had spine vest". We get mixed messages on Dorsey Levens. On one hand, he doesn't seem to be emotionally recovered from the Super Bowl loss to Denver a few years back: "Dorsey Levens" = "ye Denver loss". But, on the plus side, we get this: "Dorsey Levens" = "end every loss". I presume that means Levens will be racking up a lot of cheap yards and scores in the closing minutes of every Packer loss.
A few more interesting RB notes.... "Marshall Faulk" = "half a Ram skull". Now we know this can't be referring to Faulk's intelligence level, because he's one of the sharpest guys around. No, it would seem that Marshall is due for an injury, and quite a gruesome one, from the sound of it. I hope I'm not watching when that happens. Some advice for the Jaguars' coaching staff: "Fred Taylor" = "do try flare". For potential Taylor owners in fantasy leagues, the anagrams offer this up: "Fred Taylor" = "Try for deal". It's not clear whether we should be dealing for Fred, or trying to deal him away, but the anagram has spoken. You'd better make a deal that somehow involves Taylor, and you'd better do it now. Finally, we ask Taylor himself for some fantasy advice. "Fred Taylor" = "draft Leroy". Leroy Kelly retired 27 years ago, so he must be talking about Leroy Hoard. Note to self: don't take Taylor's fantasy advice anymore.
Some QB wisdom from the mighty anagram.... Troy Aikman, will this be the year you finally put up some big fantasy numbers? "Troy Aikman" = "I kant or may." Real decisive, Troy. You're a big help. The anagrams aren't quite sure if Steve McNair will take it to the next level or not, but it's clear that he'll be giving his best effort: "Steve McNair" = "Me can strive." Attaboy, Steve. What else you got? "Steve McNair" = "I'm sect Raven." I smell blockbuster -- McNair traded to the division rival Ravens in mid-season! I guess that means Tony Banks didn't work out. "Tony Banks" = "nasty bonk". There's evidently a big injury in store for Tony. Fortunately, McNair will assume a leadership role in Baltimore. Hey, Steve, let's say you're at a post-Super-Bowl event and some of your, ahem, acquaintances start to engage in some questionable activities, what do you do? "Steve McNair" = "I scram event." Nice idea, Steve. Please share that advice with your new teammate Ray Lewis.
We close the article will several interesting factoids about the big game. Unfortunately, the anagrams are playing it pretty close to the vest on this, but we can get a few things out of it. "Super Bowl thirty five" = "Trophy lust, fib review" So both teams will be playing hard, and there may be some dishonest dealings involving the use of instant replay. "Super Bowl thirty five" = "Loser, but five trip. Why?" So someone will make his fifth Super Bowl appearance (Bruce Smith, maybe?), but won't win. The anagrams can also give us a brief preview of one of the pre-game pep talks: "Super Bowl thirty five" = "verify: whip loser butt".
But what about you, the lowly fan? Remember last year when you made a complete idiot of yourself and embarrassed your wife at that Super Bowl party? You'll promise not to let that happen again: "Super Bowl thirty five" = "I vow try to fresh tulip." But the anagram somehow sits on your shoulder and whispers in your ear like a cartoon devil. "Super Bowl thirty five" = "tip: vow be terrify lush". So don't even try to restrain yourself at that party. You can't beat an anagram.
This article was written by "End run, I'd go!". He has a young son named "inbred ankle" (or "naked Berlin"), and a lovely and talented wife of three years who was extremely relieved to learn that her name is unanagrammable.
He would like to point out that he deserves precisely 10f the credit (or blame) for this article. The other 99 0oes to the anagram server. What, you thought I came up with these myself? Try it out for yourself, and you'll see that I have just barely scratched the surface. You can spend days on Antonio Freeman alone. Maybe we can convince "A job entry" to give away a free "tenth ace theses" T-shirt to the reader who sends in the best anagram. Send 'em to Joe, though, not me. And keep 'em clean!