64/60 Sports

...In which Smooth Dave returns from obscurity, pays off his Louisville debts, and doubles down on an old nemesis...  

     Apparently no one in the 64/60 gambles anymore except Nate Rice. After I found out Rice took on all comers to the tune of 5 Big Board wagers against a variety of opponents during the Longest Drunken Draft Ever (Smooth Dave was in Louisville, wisely settling earlier wagers for reduced stakes, more on that later...), I come home to find out he traded a former Cy Young winner for a talented young catcher on a rising franchise, a move inadvisable to most. Nate countered that he knew Todd wouldn't give up Choo after that torrid start and the investment of a 2nd-round draft pick, and expects Wieters to be a top-3 catcher in baseball sooner than later, and that he fears time and too much of Kate Upton's nookie might be taking a toll on Verlander's fastball and concentration. "At 30, laying the rail to the Queen of Muff Nation, does he possibly somehow go up from here? I may be wrong, but I doubt it. Pass me the damn bottle." I chuckled at his wit and questioned his sanity with a pint of Blanton's and a stern warning not to value Justin Verlander so lightly, or he would assuredly destroy him in the future. Rice told me that was fine, and that if Detroit won the Pennant and somehow challenged the Reds for Wold Series immortality, he would collect $20 assuredly because the Rays could not win the World Series. For some reason-- inside dope from Fenway, he insists-- he's confident as all hell in Jon Lester, I'll tell you that. What a stupid fuck. Lester and the remains of that Fried Chicken Brigade are Doomed. He reminds me that under 500 ABs on Jeter and Stubbs under .239 both look like solid props, and I concede, but I remind him that he hasn't made a real bet since he grabbed the Ravens at 12/1 to win the Super Bowl after Week 2. Rice: "Until this weekend. 25/1 says Louis Oosthuizen wins the Masters, and so do I. I've been saving my vuvuzelas and Wild Turkey for such an occasion. South Africa uber alles!" I'm afraid Fantasy Baseball might be getting to my friend Nate.

     Without getting into too many gory details, Smooth Dave booked entirely too many wagers against thought and logic at odds between 8 and 16 to 1 on the Louisville Cardinals winning the National Basketball Championship. Unable to muster the necessary 6-digit sum it took to hedge my collective wagers away at 9/2 in pre-tourney odds, I raced down I-64 after placing a series of phone calls to my attorneys in Louisville to attempt to secure a pre-tourney buyout of my wagers at advanced cost. "You'll look like a coward," Barrister Corrigan screamed into his cellular. "You told those people you were good for anything, no matter what!! They've got the number one overall seed, and they are HUNGRY FOR YOUR BLOOD! They will pound your face into unrecognizable shapes. I will have to call my dentist just to identify you..." 

     Motivated by a series of lucrative promises of future investments on Masters Weekend and Blue Grass Stakes Day, Barrister Corrigan settled all affairs for 42% of their immediate worth, in honor of being in Louisville and in celebration of Pee Wee Reese's immediate kinship with fellow Dodger Jackie Robinson, and for a stake in said future investments, and those to be considered on Derby Day in lieu of a potential odds discount on the botched Mayweather-Pacquiao deal. That man is a genius, and will remain in my employ forever, or until Celtic wins the UEFA Cup, whichever comes first.

     So in essence, Smooth Dave has bet his life on Tiger Woods this weekend. He recommends you wager more lightly, but do the same. Lindsey Vonn has cured him of all that ails him. Her splintered anterior cruciate ligament has given her the time to be fully devoted to Tiger's needs, and I'm not talking about hitting 40 dozen  lob wedges before dinner. It's said gentlemen prefer blondes. My status as a gentleman is debatable, but Smooth Dave always has, too.