This week I found myself balls deep in NCAA hoops action, thumbing through match-ups where I couldn’t even name the city from which the university was based out of. Before the NHL All-Star break I was flipping a coin at 10:28pm trying to decide who to take before a West Coast Calgary/Vancouver matchup. Last night I took a four team parlay involving the NBA, NHL and NCAA hoops and I’m pretty sure collectively between the four teams I could name 3 players total involved in any of the games. It’s only a matter of time before I download the ATP/WTA Live app, and for those who don’t know what that is, it’s the live scoring tennis app.

Football season is nearing its end, and for many degenerate gamblers like myself, the party is essentially over. It’s a haunting time, really. College football is done and there is only one game left in the NFL, and once the Super Bowl concludes- us degenerate football gamblers will be subjected to tier two sports to gamble on such as hockey, basketball, baseball, tennis, and whatever other fucking weird shit one of my idiot buddies gets “a good feeling” about and I ride or die on it. Seriously, nothing is safe. If I get a text about a hint someone has on a WNBA game, you can expect to at least $30 sheets riding on it.

Football season has a beautiful schedule layout (for betting), and just the right amount of league parity mixed with the “any given Sunday” effect. You get a sneaky little teaser with a dumpster fire NFL Thursday night game, a glorious Saturday filled with college match-ups from every corner of America, then Sunday rolls around and at about 12:45pm when I have all my bets in, flip on Red Zone and there’s like 600 football games kicking off and Scott Hanson is whispering sweet nothings into my ears I’m like Randy Marsh when he encounters a spooky ghost…

Then around 11pm, after all the games have concluded, I usually look around my underwhelming living quarters, find nothing but empty Jet’s Pizza boxes, cashed bowls, and slightly crumpled beer cans … realize I bet on 10 games, lost my fantasy matchup, ended up with a total net balance of -$23.84 and wonder what in the fuck I am doing with my life…

Wake up the next day, Monday, wanting to die due to everything you ate and bet on- hating the fact that you got so jacked up for a betting Sunday, ended up in the red, and lost in fantasy to your biggest rival by 11 points….then it hits you- you got one more chance.

Just when you think you’re completely down and out, the NFL so graciously provides you one last chance to salvage the week- Monday Night Football. The one game to win your money back, and pull off a back door victory in fantasy.

But those days are gone until fall. And this is when things get ugly. There are games of all sorts every night. The money lines are complete coin flips (NHL) or so big you’d be an idiot to touch (NBA). There is no rhythm, rhyme, nor reason, to anything you are picking. You find yourself calling friends saying shit along the lines of –

“I like Winnipeg over St. Louis tonight”

Why

“I don’t know St. Louis played last night, they gotta be gassed.”

Next thing you know, you’re 80 sheets in the hole on a Tuesday afternoon Googling the scouting report on female Russian tennis prospects trying to dig yourself out of a ditch, betting on sports you don’t even fully understand the rules to. And when baseball starts just lay down and die. You think you know pitching match-ups? You don’t. Think you’re safe with a 4-run lead in the 8th? You’re not. There’s no way that Cy Young pitcher gets shelled at home vs the last place team in the division? He did. These everyday sports are the equivalent to a roulette wheel at a casino, you could throw $100 on red and black simultaneously and the ball would land on green.

Football is nearing it’s end. I am merely a lost sheep who has to wait for his shepherd to return in fall. Until then I’ll just have to deal with shit like…

🍾

 – Frank