It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.
I recently adopted a new philosophical outlook based around eliminating expectations. The idea is that most of life’s unhappiness stems from unmet expectations. I become aware of a potential future reality (let’s say I’m attempting to take a girl out on a date) and my subconscious runs with it, creating detailed illusions of what the world would look like if my wildest dreams came true. Then, when my hot date flakes at the 11th hour, I am filled with disappointment, anger, and self-doubt. Read More
We made it.
After the months of convincing ourselves we care more about baseball than we actually do, football is back. Last night, my boy RUSSELL HUSTLE BUSTLE WILSON and his Seahawk compatriots took the field against the Green Bay Packers. The Legion of Boom and Beast Mode and 12th Man all looked like champions, because they are. Read More
This is getting ugly.
I mean, things have been worse, but to give you an idea of how I feel about my picks recently, I google image searched “ashamed” to find this picture to lead off the column.
Last week as I attempted to bring my hypothetical picks back to hypothetical glory, I instead dug myself deeper into the pits of poor pickdom. Has my time in London finally caught up with me? Is my removal from American culture seeping through? Would I be better serving the world if I started hypothetically picking the Premiere League?
This is just a bad stretch. All gamblers go through them, and I must pass this God-given test to prove my hypothetical worthiness.
One week into the SuperContest, and I don’t hate myself yet. Oh man, it feels like it’s going to be a good year.
After starting out 3-2, I am currently hypothetically in the upper half of the table (!) and in good standing to move forward in my hypothetical gambling. You may think that it’s easy to pick five games a week and come out looking like a champion, but let me give you some perspective: This past week, only 3 people went 5-0 on their picks, 58 went 0-5. Read More