Clenched
I participate in a pair of football “survivor” pools. If you are not aware, the premise is to pick one game per week. If your pick wins, you move to the next week. If not, you are out. The trick is that you cannot pick the same team twice so each win means you have fewer and fewer good teams to choose from.
One of my pools is a small one at work. A dozen people started, and I have made it to the final two. That will be a nice little payout if I can win. I will also have bragging rights over a co-worker, which might be even better.
But my second pool has a much different flavor. I got into it through a friend. The entry fee wasn’t big – only $15 – but the field included 98 players. You can do the math to see the winner-take-all prize. I have lasted this long with 21 other people. It’s getting a little exciting.
This past week, I had the Kansas City Chiefs. They were, after all, playing the hapless Buffalo Bills in Kansas City, one of the toughest stadiums in the league for a visiting team. The week before, the same philosophy to pick the Baltimore Ravens, my team, at home over Buffalo. The Ravens needed an overtime field goal to win. The Bills couldn’t come close to beating another home favorite, I told myself.
Wrong. So, so, so wrong.
Sometime close to 5 p.m. on Sunday, I found myself bent at the waist, staring intently at my television as the Chiefs tried to drive down the field in overtime for the winning field goal. Each team had missed on field goal in the extra period. The Bills actually made one, but the Chiefs called timeout just before the kick. I usually hate that move, but it could be a very lucrative turn of events for me since the Bills’ kicker shanked his second try.
I often tell my friends who do not follow sports that I envy them for being able to go through life without having to expend energy worrying about who wins and who loses. That goes triple – or maybe more – for people who don’t participate in some sort of gambling. Then again, it makes for a lot of fun when things work out.
This is exactly why I don’t gamble a lot, however. I could not take that feeling I had late in the game all the time. Now I just need to figure out which team will put me through the ringer this weekend. I might actually have to root for Eli Manning. Money makes you do strange things.