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Football is back. Can you believe it? Last night, sitting in my favorite bar with two of my favorite people, I got to yell “WIDE LEFT” drunkenly at a muted television screen just before Graham Gano made contact with the football and turned my words into reality and an 0-1 start to the season for the Carolina Panthers.

I felt alive.

And now that football is back, so is the Hypothetical SuperContest. It’s our fourth year here! We’ve had our ups, our downs and probably a few to many references to Jon Gruden. For those that have been here from the jump (Hi Rory! Hi Dad!): thanks so much for supporting my degenerate dreams. For those new to this space, welcome to my gambling nightmare.

Well, it’s not necessarily a nightmare. Not every week at least.

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It is unseasonably hot right now. Yesterday, it was 70 degrees outside. In New York City. I took my dog for a walk in a t-shirt and shorts and had a bit of a sweat going by the end of it.

It is December 13th.

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Week 6 was pretty good to us. My sleepy picks went 3-2 and would’ve been 4-1 if not for Andrew Luck, King of the Backdoor Cover. This week I am a bit more well-rested. Sure, I was up dancing til 4 am last night in NYC and then drove all the way home to suburban Philadelphia fueled by Red Bull and the power of dance and didn’t get to bed until 6:30 am, but all things considered, my mind is fairly awake. Read More

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We’re trending upward.

After the dismal performance of my picks Week 1, there was nowhere to go but up last Sunday, and up we went. After the early games my picks were three-and-oh thanks to the Bucs, Steelers, and Patriots taking care of business. For a moment I was hopeful for a perfect week that would plant my picks at 5-5 overall and allow for a fresh start to this year’s Hypothetical SuperContest. But that was not meant to be. My Philadelphia Eagles couldn’t beat a Dez-less Cowboys team that was helmed by Brandon Weedon after Romo went down with a busted collarbone and on Monday Night Football the Colts seemed absolutely mystified by the New York Football Jets. Read More

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Well, that was embarrassing.

After touting my skills as a gambling picker to the collective consciousness of the Internet, Sunday proved me a fool to anyone who was paying attention. By all accounts, last Sunday was the worst gambling day of my life. Beyond my 0-5 performance in the Hypothetical SuperContest, I went 3-12 against the spread in my weekly picks league, worse than any week I’ve had in the past two years. Thankfully, as a fairly reformed actual gambler, my monetary losses were kept to a minimum, save for three fairly small bets I had my sister place for me in Vegas during the preseason, (sorry about the losses Russell, I’ll get you back when I can).

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