That's just the way the year is going here at the money pit.
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| Here's one of the times football really sucks. NU quarterback Dan Persa, season over. |
The four star bet was the Ducks and Bears over 58. At halftime, it was 8-7, and I started mumbling. The vaunted Oregon offense, scoring an average of a million points per game, met its match at Berkely. The total was 28. We only missed by 30. Another 4 star dung pile.
The three star bet was the same game, with Oregon -19 1/2. That one point lead at halftime had me looking for a ledge from which to jump. Watching Cal on a mission in the second half made regret that I couldn't find the ledge earlier. 15-13 final, three star loss.
For two stars, the Two Gun special was Arkansas and UTEP over 60. They cleared that hurdle early in Q3. Nice job, partner. You had the only payoff of the day.
The one star was supposed to be a shootout in the old west. I tuned in Stanford and Arizona at halftime to find a pair of 7's staring at me, and since it wasn't 77-0, we were taking on water, fast. They didn't gear it up in the second half and we lost one star.
Our two overs, scores combined, wouldn't have covered one of the games. Hermes crapped in our lunchbucket. Breaking even for the year is now like standing at the base of a cliff and looking up. We are -20, with four weeks to go.
Finally, Utah @ USB provided insight into why we've never done a State of Utah parlay before. A state of Utah parlay should be outlawed, like bigamy.
Next week, positive thoughts, funny comment, haha, screw it.
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| Then the lightning bolt hit and I understood. Look at this photo. This is against the laws of nature. This is why my football world is inverted this year. Just another reason to hate the Cub. |
9 comments:
Sunday morning's are meant to be special. Relax
with a cup of coffee and open the sports section.
Time to see how the two lads are doing. And there in black and white every Sunday is a repeat of that fateful day in December 1941.
Now, as far as disasters go, the four star crew weekly shellacking falls between Aunt Millie breaking a nail and the Hindenburg.
Regardless, these are fine men trying to promote their love of the game, and yet their missteps due entirely to the musteries of college football, has casued me to be sad most every Sunday. Maybe, I should switch to tea.
Sad Big Mike
As we suffer, there is solace in numbers.
Unfortunately, numbers is what got us into this in the first place.
Now, about this switch to tea, Two Gun and I will put 3 stars on Earl Grey...
Intervention II- please note the original email I sent to you, PFOS, and to my father, Two-gun, a year ago...
Dear PFOS and Two-gun, please see my plea below. The Curse of Rudy is too strong for any of us- it can not be broken by betting for or against USB. If you two continue on this path of self-destruction I may have to take stronger intervention measures.
Please review the quotes below :)
"At that point I ought to have gone away, but a strange sensation rose up in me, a sort of defiance of fate, a desire to challenge it, to put
out my tongue at it. I laid down the largest stake allowe-four thousand gulden-and lost it. Then, getting hot, I pulled out all I had left, staked it on the same number, and lost again, after which I
walked away from the table as though I were stunned. I could not even grasp what had happened to me." -Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Gambler
"A gambler with a system must be, to a greater or lesser extent,insane." -George Augustus Sala (1828-95) English writer and journalist
Strength in solidarity,
Tampanita
---------- Forwarded message ----------
From:
Date: Sun, Nov 22, 2009 at 1:22 PM
THIS IS AN INTERVENTION FOR ALL OF US. As the humble daughter of two-gun and privileged reader Four Star Football, I would like to
gather us together for an intervention.
At this time I would like to confess a serious problem, one that many of us seem to be suffering from- The Curse of the Fighting Irish. The
curse does mean you will never win an Irish bet, but it manifests in such a way to ensure that you never have a winning betting season. We
must come to realize that we cannot win betting for or against Notre Dame and even liking Notre Dame is not a strong enough force to break the curse.
Maybe Touch Down Jesus has us in his line of sight or the Golden Dome has a radar monitoring our thoughts and wagering actions? Whatever the
case may be, I urge us to gather our collective strengths, and keep one another from trying to break the curse.
At this time I would like to profess my dedication to 1 of the 12 (IWA) Irish Wagering Anonymous steps:
1. I admit I am powerless over the Curse of the Fighting Irish- that my wagering has become unmanageable.
Please don't slam the blog door in my face or run. Im only doing this because I care. Are there any others who will join me?
PS- Holy Cow! That is a great picture.
The quotatations are poignant, indeed. We are at the epicenter of a movement that is greater than us. Between USB and the Mormons, the spirits of nature rising up against us in the southwest...it's like when all the slimy guys got loose in Ghostbusters. Who we gonna call?
That Dostoevsky guy--did he play for Brooklyn in the 50's? Losing 4,000 gulden-twice--that's a lotta gulden.
And Sala, now there's a guy with vision. Gamblers with a system, insane indeed.
OK, you're right, no more bets on USB. But what if they make it to a bowl game? what are we gonna do then?
I'm shaking.
There's games tonight and tomorrow night, by the way.
Calm down, you don't want to end up like Dostoevsky. He actually wrote The Gambler to pay off publisher debts, so he did not have to give up ownership of his writings. The novel is actually about him. Apparently it took him five years after the novel was published, and ample financial losses to quit gambling forever.
Here's a challenge- find out how much a gulden was worth in the 1850's and what would be its modern equivalence.
Thanks for the head's up on the games.
Tally ho, Tampanita!
Gulden is workably synonomous with guilder, the Dutch unit of currency until 2002 when the Euro was adopted. The "f" symbol used to denote guilders was handed down from the previous currency/coinage, the florin.
A guilder was worth 605.61 milligrams of gold in 1850. There was a silver equivalent, but that is useful only to find the price of silver at the time, a statistic that holds no intrigue here.
An ounce of gold in 1850 was worth $18.93.
There are 28.35 grams in an ounce, therefore 2,835 milligrams, or 1 milligram = .02835 ounces.
$18.93 per ounce x .02835 ounces = $0.5367 per guilder.
$0.5367 guilders x 4,000 wager = $2,146.80 wagered.
An 1850's dollar would be equivalent to about $27.50 in today's world.
$2,146.80 x $27.50 = $59,037 wagered.
As I said, that's a lot of gulden. No wonder he quit.
I was one decimal place off in the milligrams conversion, so the final number should be $5,903.70. Not as much, but still a lot of gulden.
Impressive conversion! An easy challenge for a financier such as yourself.
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