The concept of sports gambling has gotten skewed in the past year. Now that it’s becoming legal in more and more places, you see Allen Iverson or Paige Spiranac in a dress that very well might cause her to cough up her soul (now word on how AI would fit into it) telling you about all the things you can bet on at a moment’s notice. We get in-game odds and promises of parlays and futures that you can’t miss. And hey, whatever is your flavor. You might win. More likely you’ll lose, but it’s only money. It comes and goes, right?
That’s not really what you’re after. What you really want, though you’ll never admit it (and it’s better that you don’t) is to really put something on the line. You want the rush of having something real to lose. To put something down that you know you can’t get back. You want to look over the edge, and now that there’s a chance you’ll fall into it, never to return. It’s why people skydive, or run with the bulls, or date an actor.
Admit it, when you play in your fantasy league, you’re not really trying to prove your knowledge or that you’re more of an expert than the guy fake laughing on the pregame show. Maybe some are, but how empty their lives must be. Chasing insignificant and meaningless goals. Who cares? What you want is a reason to connect to your friends, and hopefully shit talk them. It gets harder and harder to maintain friendships as we get older, and sometimes a fantasy football league is the only way we can maintain contact. Five minutes a day where you can feel like you still play a role in your bud’s life while he’s got three kids and a water heater that’s making a noise that sounds like a woodland creature being tortured/pleasured. You need to know you still matter.
But what you’re risking is that you’ll give those friends fodder for something they’ll hold over you forever. Something they can always return to to put you in your place in the way only those closest to you can. Even if you only see them for an hour a year between family engagements, you know that this will be the main crux of the interaction. You want to run up to that ledge. And you know if you go too far, if you fall, you will carry it forever. This is the toll of any good friendship.
Could you survive this?:
The glory of winning a fantasy league is not to be ignored. But this is the real cost. Avoiding this is the rush you seek. Only those you love could put you through this and get you to go along with it. It’s in the contract.
First off, one look at this guy’s roster and not only will you know how he got here, but this is exactly what he deserves:
Let’s talk strategy. First off, anyone who has to go through this has to be liberal with the tips to the staff, all shifts. You will cash out multiple checks. It almost certainly will cost far more than the price of being in the league, so your shame and failure is compounded that much.
What’s obvious is that Lee’s first mistake is the syrup. You can’t do it for every waffle, or even most of them, maybe not any of them. As a close friend pointed out to me, you’d have to amputate a foot after a matter of hours.
Butter and whip cream are better choices, but not necessarily good ones. You need to go Kobayashi on this and just dip the dry waffles in coffee or water and go from there.
Second, you have to admit that you’re not getting out of there in less than 12 hours. A waffle an hour gets you there. But that’s tough. It sounds easy. But you can’t be that shitfaced for that long where Waffle House waffles are a good idea. Best to plan for 18 hours. These are not Eggos.
Use the syrup as a carrot. Maybe every fourth waffle. Or fifth. Remind you of what was once good, though it will never be again after this. You will need those memories to the place in your mind where you’re going.
Puking, as Lee did, is an option, but for anyone that’s tried the Puke N’ Rally knows it’s fraught with peril. You can only pull that off one in four at best. If you’re on the wrong day, now you’ve sentenced yourself to 15-18 hours or more with no relief of waffles.
In our fractured society, this is what friendship costs. Are you willing to pay it?
Updating our story on Olivia Moultrie, who has won yet another injunction against NWSL’s age rule. Paul Tenorio of The Athletic has a thread that sums it all up.
But essentially, Judge Immergut tore a planet-sized hole in NWSL’s arguments. Moultrie could sign her professional contract soon, but there will probably be hurdles. At this point, you’d like to think that the NWSL will just let her on the field, while the league and the Portland Thorns try and agree on some terms to keep her from burnout or other perils that happen to players this age. She’s a future star, the league would benefit from the publicity, you know how this goes.
What’s really interesting is that the judge also poked holes in the NWSL’s single-entity claims, which could open the floodgates against it and MLS as well. That’s where the real theater will be.