by Mike Brock
What are the odds that this column is about betting on The Super Bowl?
Pretty good, but I wouldn’t bet on it. If I did bet on it, I’d probably lose. Just like I lost most of these very serious bets I made during the Super Bowl.
The bet: Dad sends a text to me eight minutes before kickoff to ask who the underdog is, and then replies a few minutes later saying he takes the underdog. This is a ritual, and no real information is exchanged. He knows full well who’s playing, who the favourite is, and I know who he’s going to pick. He always picks the underdog, unless it’s the Leafs to win the Cup. He’s so bad at betting, I actually wish he would start betting against the Leafs.
The outcome: Well, he was a little after kickoff, and he avoided the pre-amble, but he did send me a text at the end of the first quarter, saying “I got eagles.” His grammar is horrible, his timing is off, but his reliability is legendary.
The bet: Dad changes his pick to the team that “Kelce plays for.” (There’s a Kelce brother on each team. Jason plays for the Eagles and Travis plays for the Chiefs.)
The outcome: This didn’t happen. I way overestimated his engagement in the game. Not only was he late in getting me his “underdog” pick, he did not have the gumption to complete the loop on the easiest dad-joke-alley of the modern Super Bowl Era.
The bet: I’m crying after the inevitable Damar Hamlin feature that will run in pre-game. If anyone read my article a few weeks ago about the incident that saw Hamlin, the safety from Buffalo, revived on the field, you know that it affected me deeply. Plus, I’m a crier to begin with. I bet I’m bawling.
The outcome: Actually, I held it together pretty well. I would classify the precipitation as misty. But, one man’s mist is another man’s monsoon. I cried and I won this one.
The bet: The anthem, sung by Chris Stapleton is longer than two minutes and five seconds.
I really like this dude. He’s about as real as they come, so I’m pretty sure that he’s going to be pretty straightforward about this whole thing. Unless he takes a little detour through a guitar solo, this is going to go the bare minimum. I’ll take the under.
The outcome: Yes, baby. Mr. Stapleton kept it real and got ‘er done just in the nick of time. 121 seconds, according to DraftKings, which means I was four seconds under on the over/under.
The bet: Dave will not rule. This question has been asked since 2006, when I renovated the basement into “The Fun Room” for my two young boys. One of the walls was painted with chalkboard. I only had three rules at the time. #1. No whining. #2. Clean up one thing before taking out another. #3. No Hitting.
Right around this time, one of my best buddies, Dave, decided it was a real opportunity to put his stamp on things. So, he wrote “#4 Dave Rules”.
The outcome: Dave did not rule. And FYI, the #5 Rule is Safety. Safety is always 5th.
The bet: My son will beat me at poker.
The outcome: My 14-year-old son beat me at poker. No, I don’t want to talk about it.
The bet: Fancy will bring a fancy charcuterie. One of my best friends is named Fancy. Because of the pants he once chose to wear for a night out in Australia. His real name is something else, but his real name doesn’t matter when there’s a gathering. For he is the harbinger of charcuterie. He is the purveyor and displayer of fine meats, cheeses and pickled vegetables on a slab of wood. He is a charcuteriere.
The outcome: Fancy bought a bag of chips. It was a fancy bag of chips, but it was not a charcuterie. Upon review, it turns out that Fancy had a long week, full of fathering and real-life things. There was no time to put a tray of meat and cheese together. I lost this bet, but I love Fancy.
The bet: Gronk will miss his field goal.
The outcome: As is natural for The Gronk, this was very unnatural. Nobody really knew what this “live” kick would entail. It was a commercial, so it wasn’t real to start, but he’s also a great athlete who hates to lose. But he’s also a tight end who doesn’t know how to kick a football. It all happened so fast, but I’m glad that I followed the sage advice of my 14-year old who said he would fail miserably.
The bet: I know more than three Rhianna songs.
The outcome: Nope. Even though it was a very cool halftime show, I spent the whole time worrying about someone falling off one of those floating platforms.
The bet: Doinks. Under two and a half doinks. There have been some crazy kicking outcomes in these NFL playoffs so far. But, doinks? That word isn’t even in the Webster’s Dictionary. But for professional football kickers who are paid millions of dollars to kick a ball through the uprights, a doink a game is pretty rare. I feel like if each kicker gets a doink (and yes, I think it’s really fun to type the word “doink” so I’m going to keep using the word “doink”) then that’s only TWO DOINKS! I’m going to take the under.
The outcome: There was a doink. A great doink. The best kind of doink. The kind of doink where it has a chance but gives up and then heads straight for the iron. The only kind of doink, that is a better kind of doink, is the kind of doink that makes a difference in the game. Harrison Butker kicked the only doink and his team won the game, so we both one.
The bet: The actual football game–I think it’s gonna be close. The line was close to about one and a half points. So, if you thought the Eagles were going to win, they had to win by two points for you to win the bet. If you bet on the Chiefs, though, they could lose by one and you would still win the bet. Either way, there was not a clear favourite in this game.
The outcome: Chiefs win. The script is complete.
Betting on sports can be fun. Betting on good times is always fun. Apparently, more than 50 million people in North America bet on the Super Bowl in some way. It would be great if everybody won, but what are the odds of that? Congrats Chiefs on the win, and thanks for providing a great excuse for getting together with friends and losing silly bets.
