Make no mistake about it , we can gape. We’ve guzzled whiskey in the VIP room of a Reno strip club at 3am and placed parlay bets with our last 2000 bucks like it was the stock market. We’ve hit jackpots and blacked out in the same hour. We’ve been kicked out of casinos for being world-class card counters, not amateurs. We’ve been ghosted by a woman we offended for calling her a ladyboy — it happens. We’ve won stacks, lost it all, and kept coming back because this life isn’t about playing it safe , it’s about going deep. Balls deep.

Pitchers, Parlay Killers, and Emotional Damage

I was up four runs. The starter shoved. The bats did just enough. Everything was going to plan. I’m halfway through a cold sandwich and already counting the money like a Wall Street shark with inside info.

Then the bullpen jogs in. First pitch, double off the wall. Second pitch, walk. Third pitch, absolute tank job into the cheap seats. The lead’s gone, the bet’s dead, and I’m standing in the kitchen looking like I just got dumped via voicemail.

Every baseball bettor knows this feeling. You didn’t lose because you were wrong. You lost because some 6th-inning reliever with a 4.92 ERA and emotional instability decided today was his Joker origin story.

Baseball betting is just pain management with a schedule. It’s the only sport where you can be right for three straight hours and still end the night Googling how to sue a pitching coach.

I’ll be back tomorrow like an idiot. Hope springs eternal and so does bullpen trauma. See you then.

Gaped.