The Good, The Bad and the Scott

Being a successful gambler is tough.  I've spent a lot of time with hedge fund guys who always equate what they do to gambling, and none of them seemed to ever have to work this hard to make a buck.

This weekend's villain was the Weatherman.  You know, the guy with the looks and a smile to be in sales, but actually much to dumb to remember the products he's trying to sell.  Yeah, that guy.  Anyways, that guy led us to believe that Boise State and Fresno State (since when did every city get statehood?) would play in blizzard followed by Cal and Stanford playing in a monsoon.  Unders all around!

Well, Fresno must have wagered on the under too, because they decided to play it safe and not score.  That was a good call since Boise put up 52 points.  How did they put up 52 in a blizzard?  Simple, there was NO BLIZZARD!!  Regardless of weather.com's incompetence, our under parlay was still alive and the by looking out my window (and the leak in my roof - sigh) our second under was looking good.

Fast forward to Saturday morning, and my being awoken, not by thunder claps and heavy rain, but rather blinding sunshine.  Sure, sure, I do live in California, but weather.com told me the sky would cry.  It didn't.  The immaculate Andrew Luck transformed himself into Peyton Campbell (half Manning-half Earl) and had Stanford to a 30-0 lead that half, more than half way to 50.5 points.  By close of the 3rd quarter, the dream and the parlay was on hold.  Again.  Oh, and Michigan sucks.

Just when the entire weekend was about to washed out, I thought to myself "it's okay.  There still the Bills (+200) over the Bengals."  After doing some Sunday chores, I tune in and see the Universe smiling at me.  Not with me, but at me.  34-7 Bengals.  Dejected I tune out, only to get a call later telling me I needed to check out the game, the Bills had rallied, and were winning!  That call, wasn't actually a call.  It was just Gus Johnson the announcer of the game, and I could hear him 2000 miles away.

In my excitement, I text Scott to share the good news, only to learn how Julius Caesar felt on those ides of March.  Scott had not placed my favorite bet of the weekend.

We are back in the mud.