Sylvia Browne, I am not.
Nostradamus? Can barely spell it, much less emulate him.
I couldn’t even tell you where Mayans come from.
So it’s safe to say that soothsaying is not my specialty and although I possess many desirable traits, psychic powers are not in the repertoire.
But basketball, I know. And the Sixers I know quite well.
And let’s just say I have a hunch. Call it a “Sixers-sense.”
Maybe it’s just a pipe dream, wishful thinking or perhaps simply indigestion from all the holiday feasts, but who am I to poo-poo the possibility of precise predictions (or even astute alliterations)? I mean, if I was able to seamlessly incorporate “poo-poo” into a respectable sports column, I must be onto to something, right?
Well, if not, it’s always fun to speculate. And if I’m wrong with any (or all) of my bold Sixers’ predictions for 2013, let’s just chalk it up to holiday heartburn.