Roddick, Cuban, and Randomness

Andy Roddick claimed that he really felt he had bridged the gap between him and Federer. Maybe that's true. Who knows. I just know Evil Knievel wouldn't try to jump that gap, no matter if you gave him all the money that Marc Cuban has...

Speaking of Cuban, I was watching ESPN with the Positioning Group crew, doing the monthly audio CD our members should be receiving shortly, when up flashed an interview between Cuban and...someone not important, evidently. Doesn't matter, the appearance of Cuban must have put everything else out of mind. He has aged four hundred years in the span of a month or two, drugs, alcohol, late night partying with the Donald? Who knows. Maybe he should take a break from basketball, get some shut eye. Something. Dude, you're a billionaire. Relax.

Seriously. It reminded me of the Picture of Dorian Gray. Not a pretty picture.

Marty Brodeur keeps on chugging along, nine shutouts now. You know what's great? In my fantasy hockey draft--yes, I have a fantasy hockey team. I know, no, really, I know. Trust me, I have a girlfriend. I have a life. Sort of. Anyway, my friend was doing his first ever fantasy draft for hockey, I knew he was a Devils fan, and since he was drafting behind me, I let him take Marty. Why not, give the kid a break. I end up with Jonathan Cheechoo, not bad, not bad--I knew he was overrated, but I love the name. Cheechoo.

9 shutouts. 30 wins. See what happens when I'm nice? And I don't care that I'm in first place. I should be in, uber first place.

I like how I spend hundreds of dollars in football fantasy, the sport I'm best in, but consistently finish last, meanwhile I'm raking up baseball, hockey, and basketball leagues for paltry sums of money. It's what you call...intelligence.

Like what Chris Harris, Bears safety has--sure, just goofing around, but words spoken in jest, well, are still words. When you say, "hey, it's on tape, if we go to the super bowl, he's coming." Harris, man, you're on public access television, why, why would you ever promise that? To make good television? Nobody watches that crap, man. Well, at least the guy, Bryan Lange, got a pity ticket from some brokerage firm, so it all works out.

Of course, one must realize I would say, and then do the same exact thing in that situation. Me and you Harris, WE BELIEVE!

Are Bears fans holding those signs up, those signs that saturated every baseball stadium come playoff time? Because, well, that's about the only thing Bears fans can do. You know you can't trust in Grossman, you can't love Rex--until after the fact--and you can't expect him to do anything but lose the game from a statistical point of view, so what's left but belief. Well, Rex, I believe, I really do. This was the National League's year to win the World Series, and this is the NFC's year to win the Super Bowl. I don't care about numbers, all I care about is my belief.

Of course, I won't take action on those beliefs. Hey, I'm a modern man over here.

Maybe I will. How do you like them apples.

It is ridiculous how much information is available in this day and age. Incredible. And most people don't look for it, just like in the old days. See, the problem in the old days was that there wasn't enough information, it was a lot of work to find it. Now there is too much, and there is even more work to wade through all the bullshit. It's best to let someone do it for you, I guess, and so in that regard, I advise everyone to go to www.powerpositionbetting.com, it's just a sales letter, for now, but it's people who look for trends and info for you, and recommend wagers. If you like it, rock it. If not, hey, I gotta show love to the hand that feeds me, right?

Let me relay a story. I was so confident that Serena Williams was going to win, I told my friend I was betting on her. "Dude," he says, "If you bet on woman's tennis, you officially lose your testicles. Gone. Done. Over." And I actually thought about that, and was like...hmm...maybe he has a point. After all, what do I know of woman's tennis? Or tennis in general...

Fast-forward to 6-1, 6-2 domination, and all I said to my friend, "Hey, who needs 155 bucks? I still have my balls." He just nodded, said, "yeah. Balls are nice."

These are my friends.

I would like to take this time, tucked away way at the bottom of this post, to announce a new venture. In addition to chronicling various possible NBA champions this year (so far I've gone over, briefly, the Jazz, Cavaliers, and Suns), in addition to a new column I will be doing comparing Sports Investing to Sports Gambling, I will be working on a book detailing my rise--or fall--in the Sports Investing world. Beginning with 500, I am going to go over, in some detail, my various wagers and chronicle what happens. The goal is to start from this small sum, and to build, well, as much as possible, obviously. Along the way I hope to show various money-management strategies, the various research that goes into making a solid pick, the trials and tribulations, the times I fail to pull the trigger (working with a small bank roll is tough, in this way)...

Hopefully it works out nice. Well, until I yargle again, good luck and good night.