A Message From Little Leonard

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Dear Pigskin Fans:

I want to thank y'all for the many heartfelt emails and letters you've been sending about the passing of my Uncle Leonard. Across the board, folks have been writing about how much they loved to listen to the old man on Friday nights when they were driving home from the high school football game with a carload of youngins, and on Saturday mornings when they were flipping burgers before the big college game. The emails and letters all say one thing in common: The world lost a fine man and a great character, and life just ain't gonna be the same without him calling out the losers.

The Old Man taught me everything I know about the loser-picking business, and a whole lot more, and there's gonna be a big hole to fill in my life. One thing I feel lucky for, though, is all the time I got to spend with Uncle Leonard, especially over the past few years, and how I got to see how happy he was when he was talking to y'all.

As many of you know, Uncle Leonard put me to work taking care of The Smart Pill Machine a long time ago, figuring idle hands are the devil's play thing. And all the while I was tensioning the belts and pulleys and lubing the gears, he was teaching me about the Pachyderms from Tuscaloosa, the Bead Pushers from South Bend, the North Avenue Slide Rule Jockeys, and all the rest. Then me and Uncle Leonard started having friendly pigskin prognostication contests, and I started doing pretty good. Then one weekend back in 1999, all that training came together when I picked Houston Nutt's Arkansas Oinkers to upset the Riflemen from Tennessee, and it went down just like I said it would.

That's when he told me, "Boy, I ain't gonna be around forever, and I think it's about time you tried your hand at being the Chief Prognosticator around here."

Last year he guided me gently through the whole season. Like any good teacher, he came down on me hard when I screwed up, and he patted me on the back when I did good. I was looking forward to working the 2001 season and many, many more with Uncle Leonard at my side, reminding me how honored I am to have y'all listening. I also feel honored to have learned the loser-picking business from the best.

I miss Uncle Leonard, but I know just what he'd say to me now. He'd say, "Boy, quit your sniveling. You got losers to pick!"

And that's just what I'm gonna do. I might do it with a heavy heart, especially those first few months, but I aim to make Uncle Leonard proud. It's gonna be hard, but we're gonna have some fun, too, and I hope that y'all are gonna come along for the ride. After all, when it's all said and done, Uncle Leonard wasn't nothing but a pigskin fan, just like you and me, and now I reckon he's got the best seat in the stadium, just where he'd want to be.

Sincerely,

Little Leonard