Monday, September 23, 2013

Hugh Finds His Nut

For the most part, I have very little interest in gambling. I’ve never been to Las Vegas and I find local casinos-with their cacophony of artificial noise, flashing lights, dimly light interiors, and mostly desperate cliental-to be extremely depressing places, especially during daylight hours. The vibrant scenes and smiling faces that you see on television commercials are not what you find in reality.

While I don’t mind putting a few bones on a pony now and again, the track experience is more about the atmosphere than the betting itself. And it’s been many a year since I’ve been suckered into betting on professional football where the sweet sounding point spreads are all too often siren songs designed to dash you against the rocks.

But once in a while something comes along that’s impossible to resist. A can’t lose proposition that you can’t say to no. A sure thing that you would be foolish to pass up.

It started last Friday on Twitte:



The Browns will humble the Vikings? The same Browns that announced they would start a third string quarterback and had just traded their start running back? In the Vikings home opener? Not bloody likely:



A nerve had been struck:



A wager on the Brown-Vikings game, eh? I knew the line was around seven points, but still this was the best bet ever.



The terms of the bet were set and now we needed to determine the stakes. What did I want from Hugh? Hmmm…



When Mr. Hewitt didn’t respond in a timely manner, I figured he must have realized how foolish his faith in the Browns was.



But Hugh remained true to his team:



At that point, I actually felt a little bit sorry for Hugh. Well, not really, but still it did seem unfair. Taking a bottle of Scotch from him like this was going to be like taking candy from a baby. For those who may not be familiar with Hugh’s track record in such matters, I believe he is officially 0 for 74 when it comes to sports predictions he has made in the last ten years. Whether it was the Browns, Indians, Cavs, Buckeyes, or even Miami of Ohio hockey, the result was always the opposite of what Hugh had predicted would occur. He had an almost uncanny ability to always be on the wrong side of history in such matters.

Until yesterday, when the Vikings somehow not only failed to cover the spread against a team that had pretty much already bagged the rest of the season, they actually managed to lose the game. To the Brian Hoyer led Browns. At home. Even worse, I lost a bet. To Hugh Hewitt. For Scotch.

Never again.
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