When I was a kid, every so often I would do a chore for my grandparents. Afterward, I would sidle up to my grandfather, a tall man with big ears, thick, black-rimmed glasses, and a bald head usually covered in a fisherman’s cap. I used to stick out my little hand and smile expectantly and say: “Tip?” Grandpa John would grin and reply, “Seabiscuit in the fifth.”
Predictions are a fool’s game. Even MLS’ most informed crew of insiders doesn’t think a league with as much parity and pathos can be gamed in any appreciable way, as evidenced by this tweet.