"Chewy!!"
I couldn't find that dog anywhere and I was growing impatient. I knew this was going to be a long and arduous process and I wanted to start on my brackets as soon as possible. It was bad enough being at his beck and growl this past week. I imagined working with him would be like wearing Milkbone underwear to the Westminster Dog Show.
"Chewy!!"
I had looked everywhere except the one place he never goes...his dog dish. If you get fed scraps often enough, you have no need for regular visits to the dog chow bowl. And since he frequents the shower as often as there is residual puddles to lap up, the accompanying water dish is just as lonely. In fact, we didn't bother to empty it the last time...the water evaporated.
As I turned the corner, sure enough, there he sat with a smug furry look.
"Why are you yelling?"
"You know damn well why...the selection show ended five minutes ago and we need to get started."
I was pretty sure I heard a snicker but some woofs sound alike so I ignored it.
"What's your hurry, Sparky?" (Now I was sure it was a snicker)
"Listen, it is bad enough I have sold my NCAA pool soul to you. I don't want to drag this out any further. Besides, I assume the formula is complicated so I want to make sure I have plenty of time to figure it out and I make my picks correctly."
Chewy strained his neck upward as if recalling some hideous nightmare (probably remembering my last five brackets).
"You still don't get it, do you?"
I will admit it. I still didn't have the foggiest idea what he was talking about.
"This isn't rocket science. It's not even brain surgery. Yet you still keep grasping at straws trying to figure out what the "magic bullet" might be to have pool success."
Ok, now I was angry. I was being mocked by a dog (keeping in mind that I was actually talking to a dog which already brough my mental state into question).
"Would you get to the point?"
"Have you made your picks yet?"
"What are you talking about? The selection show just finished. How in the hell would I have time to make
my picks?"
"Let me rephrase--why are you waiting?"
"First of all, I was waiting on you. Second, I need to research ESPN.com, CBSSportsline, and whatever I can find on Google on the tournament. These need to be informed decisions--even if you are involved."
"I'll excuse that last comment as frustration but it is that frustration that is making you blind to the secret."
"Ok, Obi-Wan, spill the point."
"I've already made it. In fact, this conversation has already lasted longer than the time necessary to make your picks. No reading required."
"How is that possible? How can you make picks without doing research? Without watching games?"
"Luke, let go and use the Force. How do you think Raap does it? Having no methodology is her methodology. It's time to beat Raap at her own game. Using her own weapon."
*TO BE CONTINUED*
Peace,
Reg
I couldn't find that dog anywhere and I was growing impatient. I knew this was going to be a long and arduous process and I wanted to start on my brackets as soon as possible. It was bad enough being at his beck and growl this past week. I imagined working with him would be like wearing Milkbone underwear to the Westminster Dog Show.
"Chewy!!"
I had looked everywhere except the one place he never goes...his dog dish. If you get fed scraps often enough, you have no need for regular visits to the dog chow bowl. And since he frequents the shower as often as there is residual puddles to lap up, the accompanying water dish is just as lonely. In fact, we didn't bother to empty it the last time...the water evaporated.
As I turned the corner, sure enough, there he sat with a smug furry look.
"Why are you yelling?"
"You know damn well why...the selection show ended five minutes ago and we need to get started."
I was pretty sure I heard a snicker but some woofs sound alike so I ignored it.
"What's your hurry, Sparky?" (Now I was sure it was a snicker)
"Listen, it is bad enough I have sold my NCAA pool soul to you. I don't want to drag this out any further. Besides, I assume the formula is complicated so I want to make sure I have plenty of time to figure it out and I make my picks correctly."
Chewy strained his neck upward as if recalling some hideous nightmare (probably remembering my last five brackets).
"You still don't get it, do you?"
I will admit it. I still didn't have the foggiest idea what he was talking about.
"This isn't rocket science. It's not even brain surgery. Yet you still keep grasping at straws trying to figure out what the "magic bullet" might be to have pool success."
Ok, now I was angry. I was being mocked by a dog (keeping in mind that I was actually talking to a dog which already brough my mental state into question).
"Would you get to the point?"
"Have you made your picks yet?"
"What are you talking about? The selection show just finished. How in the hell would I have time to make
my picks?"
"Let me rephrase--why are you waiting?"
"First of all, I was waiting on you. Second, I need to research ESPN.com, CBSSportsline, and whatever I can find on Google on the tournament. These need to be informed decisions--even if you are involved."
"I'll excuse that last comment as frustration but it is that frustration that is making you blind to the secret."
"Ok, Obi-Wan, spill the point."
"I've already made it. In fact, this conversation has already lasted longer than the time necessary to make your picks. No reading required."
"How is that possible? How can you make picks without doing research? Without watching games?"
"Luke, let go and use the Force. How do you think Raap does it? Having no methodology is her methodology. It's time to beat Raap at her own game. Using her own weapon."
*TO BE CONTINUED*
Peace,
Reg
1 comment:
You clearly need more rest...
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