I like to imagine that all of our shmucks -- every last one of them, from middle schoolers to the Mormon Madoff to the threesome from hell -- are, upon earning the honor, rounded up and herded into one confined space, to trade stories of their shmuckdom and steal each others' wallets. It doesn't really matter where -- although I always picture Epcot Center -- so long as they're together.
But if that's the case, this week's winner poses a bit of a problem, because I'm not sure there's a place -- save for some sub-Saharan African desert or Meryl Streep's awards shed -- that has room for Josh McDaniels's ego.
We've vacillated on McDaniels for months now, killing him in one breath and kissing his ring in the next. Finally, I've come to what I think will be some sort of conclusion. I like McDaniels. It's his ego I want to stab repeatedly.
I'm convinced the guy can coach, can motivate, can draw up a play and put people in position to execute that play. But -- as evidenced by his late-season personnel decisions, the exodus of his coaches, his de facto firing of Mike Nolan and so on -- his ego is just too big for his hoodie. And that will be his demise, at least in Denver. He'll probably learn to harness it one day, but by then he'll be running the offense for TCU.
So, shmucks, please make room in the buffet line, because there's a new passenger on the Shmuck of the Sea cruise ship. Josh McDaniels's ego is on board, and it needs to be fed.