We made it.
Another season of professional football has arrived and with it, another year of the The Hypothetical SuperContest. Oh man, it feels good to be back. Last night, the Patriots and Steelers rang in the gambling new year, with Pittsburgh completing an unbelievable backdoor push that did not go unnoticed by the great Al Michaels.
If you’re new here, there’s a good chance that you didn’t understand any parts of that previous sentence other than “Patriots,” “Steelers” and “the great Al Michaels.” No worries mate, you will soon. In the mean time… Read More
We made it. After 17 weeks of Hypothetical Betting on the Hypothetical SuperContest our journey has come to a somber end. Last week I needed to go a perfect 5-0 in order for me to finish the gambling season with a winning record. My picks went 2-3, and my final record against the spread came to a semi-embarrassing 40-45. I did not come close to winning the Hypothetical SuperContest. That honor would go to CH Ballers, who went a remarkable 64-20-1 ATS on the year. That is a ridiculous run, and his $1,500 investment of actual dollars netted him a return of $736,575 and the title of top bettor in the land. Many, many congratulations. I apologize for not writing about his streak sooner, but as my bets turned dismal, it became painful to see the names of those succeeding around me. I’m sure in future years when I am a better bettor I’ll pay more attention to the leaderboard; it was just a down year.
The inherent problem with awards season is taking the abstract and making it concrete. Voters take works of art, whether they are feature films or albums, and attempt to crown one of them as “the year’s best.” There’s no quantifiable way of achieving these decisions. Every vote is nothing more than opinion and perception being funneled through humans with biases and agendas, all culminating in the distribution of a few golden statues that are rarely awarded without controversy.
Awards for professional athletes are quite the opposite. There are ample statistical measures for every athlete in every sport. In the modern era, we have more numbers and analytics than John Nash could shake a stick at. Yet, when we attempt to award a player an honor such as “Most Valuable,” we’re then forced to take these concrete qualifiers and apply them to the abstract.
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.