Some may recall the earlier post about Eraste de Fermat, a descendant of the famous French mathematician Pierre de Fermat, who developed a mathematical algorithm that would accurately predict the school each recruit would pick on signing day. The de Fermats, who live in the Bayou Portage area, fundamentally believe all life questions can be answered with mathematical equations. The cure to the common cold is nothing but a math problem, Pierre taught us in grade school math class.
Pierre's break through in devising a math formula to predict where recruits will go was when he stopped using rational numbers and used only irrational numbers in his formula. It has long been known that the key to men understanding women better involves the application of irrational numbers (although Pierre will admit we are no closer to understanding women than we are to curing the common cold), and once Pierre started applying irrational numbers to how 17 and 18 year old recruits act, he was able to derive a formula where he could predict with mathematical certainty the school each recruit would attend by factoring in known variables such as how many girlfriends a recruit has, how much his father posts on message boards, the recruits tpd (tweets per day) average, sock color, his mothers looks on hotness index, number of decommits, etc.
The day before signing day Eraste sent me all his predictions with equations for each in the footnotes. I compiled a matrix of all other recruiting guru predictors from, Rivals to 247 to Scout to the progeny of Dandy Don and was ready to see o would do better on signing day. Then late Tuesday night I got a strange visitor. It was from Gustave de Fermat, Pierre's estranged brother. Like all de Fermats, Gustave was a math genius. Gustave had been disowned by the family due to his affinity for cocaine, pot, mexican crack, chinese tobacco, peyote and strawberry blonde hookers. While his lifestyle choices raised eyebrows, no one ever doubted his head for numbers.
Gustave claimed he had one upped his brother and that his MTD theory of recruiting was guaranteed to outperform everyone. I was skeptical. I could not put my finger on it, maybe it was the tin foil shoes he was wearing (to deflect gamma rays his brother was bombarding him with he said). But I took all his picks and put them in my matrix. I pressed him on what MTD meant. He finally caved and told me it stood for Multivarial Trinomial Divergence. WTF? These de Fermats are math savants, its all over my head.
I sat at my computer all day Wednesday logging in recruits on my matrix as they signed. A trend was obvious early on. Gustave's MTD theory was killing everyone else. He had Fowler to Texas, Mullen to Clemson and Fulton to LSU. Rivals, Scout, 247, the guys on espn, Dandy's son and Eraste were all around 50%, Mike and Brian doing better than most. Gustave was closer to 90%!
I was shocked and could not wait to tell him, but Gustave had no phone. I knew he lived in a houseboat on the bayou so I thought I would head over with the news. I crossed the cypress plank to the boat and banged on the door, but no one answered. I could hear music (sounded like Jimmy Hendrix) and dancing noises, so I knew someone was there.
I peered in the window and saw Gustave, passed out on his Lazy boy with a rather good looking, naked young lady sleeping in his lap, with a bong straight out of a Seth Rogen movie on the table beside them. Must have been a rough night. I was not surprised she was a strawberry blonde, and a real one at that from the look of things.
That's when I saw the chimpanzee. Gustave has a dancing monkey? Cant say I was shocked. But what was the monkey doing and why was he in a honey badger purple and gold jersey dancing to purple haze? I could tell he was throwing stuff, but what? Little spears? And at what?
It was a wall with all the recruits names on it. Really? Did this have something to do with his theory? Wait, they were not spears at all. They were darts. And it wasn't a wall, it was a dartboard with names on it. Then it hit me. Duh me.
MTD did not stand for Multivarial Trinomial Divergence at all. It stood for Monkey Throwing Darts. Gustave's monkey was his recruiting guru. None of the experts, not even Eraste, did any better than a monkey throwing darts in the end. I might have to try Gustave's real formula for next year's signing day. The bong, the strawberry blonde and the monkey. Sounds like it could be a CS Lewis novel.
Pierre's break through in devising a math formula to predict where recruits will go was when he stopped using rational numbers and used only irrational numbers in his formula. It has long been known that the key to men understanding women better involves the application of irrational numbers (although Pierre will admit we are no closer to understanding women than we are to curing the common cold), and once Pierre started applying irrational numbers to how 17 and 18 year old recruits act, he was able to derive a formula where he could predict with mathematical certainty the school each recruit would attend by factoring in known variables such as how many girlfriends a recruit has, how much his father posts on message boards, the recruits tpd (tweets per day) average, sock color, his mothers looks on hotness index, number of decommits, etc.
The day before signing day Eraste sent me all his predictions with equations for each in the footnotes. I compiled a matrix of all other recruiting guru predictors from, Rivals to 247 to Scout to the progeny of Dandy Don and was ready to see o would do better on signing day. Then late Tuesday night I got a strange visitor. It was from Gustave de Fermat, Pierre's estranged brother. Like all de Fermats, Gustave was a math genius. Gustave had been disowned by the family due to his affinity for cocaine, pot, mexican crack, chinese tobacco, peyote and strawberry blonde hookers. While his lifestyle choices raised eyebrows, no one ever doubted his head for numbers.
Gustave claimed he had one upped his brother and that his MTD theory of recruiting was guaranteed to outperform everyone. I was skeptical. I could not put my finger on it, maybe it was the tin foil shoes he was wearing (to deflect gamma rays his brother was bombarding him with he said). But I took all his picks and put them in my matrix. I pressed him on what MTD meant. He finally caved and told me it stood for Multivarial Trinomial Divergence. WTF? These de Fermats are math savants, its all over my head.
I sat at my computer all day Wednesday logging in recruits on my matrix as they signed. A trend was obvious early on. Gustave's MTD theory was killing everyone else. He had Fowler to Texas, Mullen to Clemson and Fulton to LSU. Rivals, Scout, 247, the guys on espn, Dandy's son and Eraste were all around 50%, Mike and Brian doing better than most. Gustave was closer to 90%!
I was shocked and could not wait to tell him, but Gustave had no phone. I knew he lived in a houseboat on the bayou so I thought I would head over with the news. I crossed the cypress plank to the boat and banged on the door, but no one answered. I could hear music (sounded like Jimmy Hendrix) and dancing noises, so I knew someone was there.
I peered in the window and saw Gustave, passed out on his Lazy boy with a rather good looking, naked young lady sleeping in his lap, with a bong straight out of a Seth Rogen movie on the table beside them. Must have been a rough night. I was not surprised she was a strawberry blonde, and a real one at that from the look of things.
That's when I saw the chimpanzee. Gustave has a dancing monkey? Cant say I was shocked. But what was the monkey doing and why was he in a honey badger purple and gold jersey dancing to purple haze? I could tell he was throwing stuff, but what? Little spears? And at what?
It was a wall with all the recruits names on it. Really? Did this have something to do with his theory? Wait, they were not spears at all. They were darts. And it wasn't a wall, it was a dartboard with names on it. Then it hit me. Duh me.
MTD did not stand for Multivarial Trinomial Divergence at all. It stood for Monkey Throwing Darts. Gustave's monkey was his recruiting guru. None of the experts, not even Eraste, did any better than a monkey throwing darts in the end. I might have to try Gustave's real formula for next year's signing day. The bong, the strawberry blonde and the monkey. Sounds like it could be a CS Lewis novel.
