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Forget 50 Shades of Grey. Forget… other popular and mainstream erotic novels (?). A Gronking to Remember is here — well, was here — and it will make you forget every other book you’ve ever read in your life. This modern masterpiece was penned by acclaimed (read: several of her Kindle novels have five stars on Amazon) author Lacey Noonan, the wordsmith behind other great works such as Hot Boxed: How I Found Love on Amazon and I Don’t Care If My Best Friend’s Mom is a Sasquatch, She’s Hot and I’m Taking a Shower With Her. However, her most recent work, centered around Patriots tight end Rob Gronkowski, was apparently way too steamy for Amazon, as the book (which cost a whopping $3 on e-reader) seems to have been pulled from the website. Luckily for all of you, I managed to sneak in a download before that happened.

In A Gronking…, Noonan introduces us to Connecticut housewife Leigh, who catches one glimpse of the patented Gronk spike (or the “football throw down thing,” as she so eloquently puts it) on a football Sunday and falls in love at first sight, much to the chagrin of her beleagured Jets-fan husband, with whom her marriage is already on the rocks.

Anyway, once she sees the Gronk spike, it’s all over.

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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.

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Those picks we talked about in this column last week went 4-1. We only lost one! And even that could’ve been avoided if I hadn’t bitten off more than I could chew with the Bears playing on Thanksgiving. We are in the home stretch of the season now. I have only 20 picks left this regular season to prove my worth. I currently stand at 31-34 on the year, much improved from a few weeks ago but still far from a profitable year. While we are too far out of the money to make a run in the SuperContest, we are in striking distance of a winning percentage of 53%, which is what you need in order to make money in Vegas. Read More

The Los Angeles Lakers were in trouble. Through the first ten games of this season, one of the league’s two most decorated teams in history was 1-10 and had become a punchline via the play of its fearless, sociopathic leader, Kobe Bryant. People were pointing fingers. Coach Byron Scott refused to acknowledge the league’s most efficient shot, the corner three, in any capacity, allowing Kobe and others to settle for long twos late in the shot clock. Kobe became festively jovial about his team’s historic incompetence. The Clippers officially became the team of Los Angeles. Carlos Boozer became an important cog in a professional basketball team, and it wasn’t the Philadelphia 76ers. The skies over Manhattan Beach, once a clear purple and gold, filled with dark clouds.

But then, a hero emerged. The perfect antidote to the Lakers’ struggles, it turns out, was swag, and only one man had the power to rescue Kobe Bryant from himself. That man is Nick Young, and this week’s 3-Pointer is dedicated (almost) entirely to him.

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Sometimes it’s hard to keep going. In the throes of what I can say with confidence is my worst gambling season since I was initiated into this fraternity of degenerates, it’s difficult to figure out why exactly I am doing this. I write a gambling column out of a love of the game and a love of the gamble, but in a season this brutal, it is challenge enough to continue loving the process, and even more challenging to write about it. My failures have not only been greater than ever before, but also more public. I am shitting my pants on stage while the spotlight is on me. Well, maybe that’s an exaggeration, but I am at the very least, publicly failing at picking football games. And that sucks.

So I look myself in the mirror and ask, with sincerity, “Why are you doing this?”

Not simply gambling, not simply writing, but living, existing, breathing. What’s the reason? Why are you here if you are just going to keep making awful picks, Tyler?

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Last week, I felt great about my NFL picks across the board.

My father was wrapping up his time working in Las Vegas, meaning that it would be the last week of him betting my picks without telling me even though I had a hunch he was doing it. I wanted to make him back some of the money he had undoubtedly lost as I continued to pick Derek Carr to cover the spread over and over again. I did a good amount of research, mixed it with a dash of nonsense, and found myself five underdogs that I felt confident could win my pops some money. Again, one of them was David Carr.

The Raiders failed to cover. My picks went 1-4, and I went into Monday morning feeling like a failure once again.

I have to stop feeling confident about my picks. In gambling, confidence is a myth. It cannot exist, because everything is chance and no one knows anything about anything, especially football. I wanted to remember this fact while making my picks during Week 8. I wanted to focus on facts and emotions and up to date injury information all while knowing that it was ultimately a crapshoot. I took to Twitter with intentions of making my usual pre-picking rounds: checking in on Adam Schefter, Stephania Bell, and a few NFL players that might give a little hint towards their team’s mindset heading into Sunday. But I got distracted by Zach Mettenberger.

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Back on the horse.

After a demoralizing 0-5 in Week 4, we rebounded back to stasis in Week 5, putting up a record of 2-3 ATS thanks to a lot of hard work and Excel spreadsheets. I believe that gambling well has a lot to do with hard work; if you know what to be looking for and when to be weary of Vegas, you put yourself in a position to be more successful than the average schlub that rolls into Vegas.

But, as with many aspects of life, greatness cannot come from hard work alone. Every once in a while, you need a little bit of luck. I’ll explain further. For now, just take a gander at the Week 6 slate. Home team gets the asterisk.

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If Week 1 of the Hypothetical SuperContest was a dream, Week 4 was as dark a nightmare as I could imagine.

After making it through the entirety of last season without a dreaded 0-5 week picking against the spread, my dream of avoiding imperfection forever was crushed as the Cowboys walloped the Saints on Sunday Night Football. The worst had happened. The big red buttons were pressed. Although I had started the Hypothetical Supercontest with a perfect 5-0 week, I am now in the midst of three straight losing weeks and my worst picking week since starting this column.

Something drastic had to be done. Read More

perfection

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

Ray Rice

Last night, Chris Berman and Trent Dilfer perfectly encapsulated what is wrong with the NFL, its fans, and how the two handle domestic violence. To be clear, it’s not what the pair said, because the two announcers completely whitewashed the incident in which Ray Rice brutally assaulted his then fiancé (now wife) and dragged her unconscious body from an elevator, showing no concern or remorse for his actions.

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