To gamble is to lead a self-examined life, which is good, the philosophers say. Jesus himself tells us "And why beholdest thou the mote that is in thy brother's eye, but perceivest not the beam that is in thine own eye?"
The beam in my case was taking underdog Baltimore and six points against Pittsburgh yesterday. The first two games in the regular season gave me confidence the Ravens could cover, and I was looking pretty smart well into the fourth quarter with Baltimore trailing by two and driving. I was also counting on Troy Polamalo at less than top speed. This 'possum, though, sprang like a gazelle to snare Joe Flacco's pass and zig-zag to the endzone, putting old Kev nine points down.
Still one more chance until Ryan Clark clocked Willie McGahee over the middle. Helmet met helmet and McGahee was out, the ball fumbled to the Steelers. Whether it was a good football play or not, I've come to the conclusion that referees choose to ignore the rules all the time. Spearing is prohibited. The rules don't account for looking into men's souls to determine intent. Oh well, as we all know, holding occurs on virtually every play, too. No use complaining. Good vittles, love and kissin' are waitin' at the end of my ride.
The first dog barked much better for me. Arizona, continued its Cinderella run and won outright on the shoulders of Kurt Warner and the uber-receiver Larry Fitzgerald (his father was a sportswriter, I understand. We scribes must have athletic genes after all).
So, I chased my tail, ending up in the same spot, which is reward enough for making a sporting event interesting if you don't have a rooting interest as a fan. I refuse to wager on OU games. My passion is more than stoked without begging for an extra touchdown or two to cover.
The early Super Bowl line makes Pittsburgh a 7-point favorite. In the two weeks to come, I will strive to ignore the mote in my brother's eye and remove the beam in my own, as I will in my golf game this year. I think it's my putter stuck solidly in the window to my soul.
2 comments:
Pull that putter out!....it is a jealous mistress...hammer it red hot on the anvil, always. Fall in love with the diver and wedge, they will love you back, always.
Full swing it is. The wedge is my Waterloo. I either skull it, hit dirt too soon (what's that called, chunk?), or do it right, the former two 90% of the time. Wedge work is my goal.
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