According to Matthew 5:5, in the Sermon on the Mount, Christ declared: “Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth.”
Clearly, betting degenerates will not be inheriting the earth.
The life of the degenerate is a run of long seasons, ups, downs, benders, boners, loners, bounces, twists, turns, numbers, back to backs, aches, pains, injuries, home, aways, parlays, teasers, trades, overs, unders and one night stands.
The bettor must sport a .528 winning percentage to keep the shirt on his back.
It’s a lot of work to handicap every game of every season. It’s a commitment. It’s hard. You have to love it.
In the final analysis, for some, it’s better than a desk job, it’s better than changing light bulbs, and it’s better than digging ditches.
The older we get the more we realize how much we don’t know.
In this internet age of immediate information, breaking news is at our finger tips.
To get the edge the handicapper must understand the plays, passes, teams, weather, schedules, partiers, villians, friends, fiends, foes, fixes, fucks, buyers, sellers, players and pretenders.
In the end however, we must remember: nobody beats the wise guys.