Things are getting tense between the cat and I: a 'resolutions' and gambling update

Wait, in my last post, and first of this year, did I really claim that I was going to post 52 times this year? Seriously? What the hell was I thinking?

I referenced the financial writer and investing guru Jason Zweig in my last post, and this is what he said at the start of his article on resolutions:

‘Don’t resolve to do something so easy it doesn’t require a resolution, nor something so hard no resolution could make it achievable. Resolutions are for raising the bar, not for laying the bar on the ground and hopping over it or for putting the bar too high for anyone to reach.

Make all your resolutions in public. The fear of social pressure, whether it materializes or not, will help you keep your word, since you are pledging not just to yourself but to others…’ (emphasis mine)

[Gulp.]

Talk about pressure: I’m already being asked about this!

Way, way back in my undergraduate days, I took a history course on the Holocaust, and I had exactly one assignment, which would determine 100% of my mark for the course: a 50,000 word essay. That was it. It was assigned at the start of the semester, but when did I finally get down to writing it? Like every great procrastinating university student, probably around 48 hours before it was due. I’m sure I had done all my research (my memory’s a bit fuzzy on this one) and just had the writing itself to do, which was still no mean feat. Those were my pre-coffee days (I hardly drank coffee at university) and so my stimulant of choice over that 48-hour period was Mountain Dew. I stayed up 48 hours straight and must have guzzled about 20 litres of that crap, which I thought may have rendered me sterile.

Fast forward a few years, to when I was doing my Master’s at Edinburgh. For my class on Sub-Saharan African Politics, we had to write a 1000 word essay each week, around 8-9 essays in total over the term.

Which of these tasks was more challenging? Without question, the 1000-worders. Keeping up a regular writing habit, and worst of all, being concise, was unbearably hard. I think it goes without saying that brevity isn’t exactly one of my strengths, and although I’ve been telling myself for years and years that I need to reduce my crapping on and keep to a strict word limit, and to write more regularly, it never comes to pass. I’d make a downright lousy journalist.

Let’s see if I can stick to some sort of word count. And some type of regularity.

And now, due to overwhelming popular demand, an update on my cat/wife gambling competition. Fiasco would be a better word for it.

To remind you, these were the end-of-regular-season final standings:

Me: 49-53
Cat: 50-52
Olya: 59-43

And now, after 8 playoff games – with just 3 to go – the latest:

Me: 55-55
Cat: 54-56
Olya: 63-47

So, despite a mini-winning streak where I made up 2 games on Olya, it’s all over, yet again, and to my shame and utter mortification, I have lost to my wife, who knows almost nothing about football. In 5 years of this competition, I have won once, the cat has won once, and Olya has now won 3 times.

Or…has she?

The Layman’s Guide to [American] football gambling, in brief

You’ll have to bear with me because this may be slightly complicated, and probably of very little interest to the vast majority of my readers. It may get a bit heavy with terminology and lingo but let me explain how this stuff works (if you’re a big-time gambler, stop reading now, because I’m going to simplify this as much as I can). There are numerous, often endless options when it comes to games. You can choose games straight-up, against the spread, with the money line…you can do parlays, teasers, over-unders…we aim to keep it as simple as possible – there was no way I was getting Olya involved in this if it got too over-complicated. After I started explaining the principles of two- and three-team teasers, I saw her eyes glazing over and she almost passed out. But we couldn’t keep it too simple and just choose winners (straight-up), because, in world football terms, that would be like choosing the likes of Brazil or Spain over Latvia or El Salvador. That’s too easy. Games are handicapped with a point spread, like this for the two games this weekend:

Jaguars (+7.5) v Patriots
Vikings (-3) v Eagles

In the first game, the Jaguars are getting 7.5 points, while the Patriots are giving 7.5 points. Or in other words, the Patriots are favoured to win by 7.5 points. Therefore, if the final score is Patriots 31, Jaguars 20, the Patriots would cover the spread, because they won by more than 7.5. If they win 31-24, they wouldn’t cover the spread because the victory is only by 7. Got that?

In the second game, it’s the same principle, but with the spread being 3, there is also the possibility of a ‘push’. The Vikings, favoured by 3, could win 17-14, which means neither they nor the Eagles actually cover the spread, and it’s instead a draw or a tie. No one wins, no one loses.

The spreads often move throughout the week, depending on which team more people are betting on, or if there is any news, and the spread is ‘adjusted’ by Las Vegas. The Patriots were favoured by 9 until today, and it has moved down by 1.5 points.

If you go back to our final records, there are only wins and losses, and no pushes. This is unheard of over a season of betting – there are always going to be pushes. But pushes, in a ‘friendly’ competition like ours, meant that our records looked funny and were hard to compare, and it was confusing to Olya and the cat. So for the 4th season (last year), we opted to eliminate the ‘push’ option, and just say that if you picked a team to cover a spread of 3, and they won by 3, it would go down as a win. Similarly, if you picked the other team, you’d also get a win. So, if I picked Vikings and Olya picked Eagles, and the final was 17-14, we’d both get a win. This is where big-time gamblers are cringing and calling us a bunch of cheating frauds.

Let me take you back to last year, the year we ditched the pushes and went for the easier, more understandable option:
Olya: 50-38
Me: 49-39

But if we go back to the push option, the way real gambling is meant to be, the standings look like this:
Olya: 44-38-6
Me: 45-39-4

I win! I win! I’m revising last year’s standings and giving me the win! Yes, I’m sad and desperate and grasping at straws here, but damn in, I don’t want my gambling credibility going down the drain.

There. Now I feel better.

Bonus: a miracle-finish, and an epic, glorious point-spread gambling moment

Last week, in Saints v Vikings, the Vikings were favoured by 5 points. The situation was this: 10 seconds left, Saints leading 24-23, and the Vikings needing a miracle to win the game. All they needed to do – and this was far, far from easy – was move the ball some 25-30 yards to move closer to attempt a game-winning field goal (3 points), and they had no timeouts, meaning they had to catch the ball close to the sidelines, and quickly get out of bounds, which is how you stop the clock near the end of a game. Were they to somehow do that, they would have won 26-24. Either way, for all intents and purposes, the game was over from a gambling standpoint. For anyone who chose the Vikings by 5, they would have needed a miraculous touchdown (6 points, making it 29-24), plus the extra point (1 point) which is attempted after a touchdown, making it 30-24. But come on…the chances of that happening, a touchdown, when all they needed was a field goal, were slim to none. And then…




If that player, after catching the ball, had been tackled or gone down in the field of play, the game is over. Time runs out.

After that unbelievable finale, it was pandemonium on the field, with players, media, fans streaming on in celebration. But by the rules – and rules are rules – the extra point had to be attempted. It would make no difference to the final result…but it would to gamblers. At this point, the margin of victory was 5, but that extra point, which has over a 99.5% success rate, still needed to be taken. Talk about an anti-climax, except for gamblers: the referees had to clear everyone off the field, drag the poor dejected Saints out of the locker room for this last, meaningless extra point. People who had big money on the game were shitting themselves at this point. In the end, they didn’t bother kicking the extra point, but they still had to snap the ball and then just kneel down, foregoing the opportunity to attempt it (technically, you don’t have to actually attempt it, but you do have to snap the ball).

Whether you’ve managed to follow all that or not and make it this far, take my word for it: gambling can be a nerve-wracking experience. And that was one of the most ridiculous, exciting finishes to a game ever. If you are a Saints fan, it’s painful.

A book interlude

I’m reading The Gene: An Intimate History, by Siddhartha Mukherjee, at the moment, and I read this a couple days ago:

‘In 1940, an experiment on the simplest of organisms – a microscopic, capsule-shaped, gut-dwelling bacterium named Escherichia Coli – provided the first crucial clue to this question. E. Coli can survive by feeding on two very different types of sugars – glucose and lactose. Grown on either sugar alone, the bacterium begins to divide rapidly, doubling in number every twenty minutes or so. The curve of growth can be plotted as an exponential line – 1,2-, 4-, 8-, 16-fold growth – until the culture turns turbid, and the sugar source has been exhausted.’

Even though I’ve conceded defeat to Olya, there’s still a battle to finish 2nd between my wretched cat and I. I’m just 1 game ahead of her, and the pressure and nerves are really starting to show: she’s been a nasty, fierce little shit this week, hissing at me, trying to scratch me, attacking me on the back of my legs as I leave the shower. I kid you not: she’s threatening me and is in a foul mood over our gambling picks. She really is taking it seriously.



Our cat's name is Eshe for short – her full name is Escherichia Coli. Olya, the good biologist that she is, gave her this name. And she acts like a gut-dwelling bacterium, and she survives on eating way too many sugars, and her wrath and anger have been doubling exponentially all week as the pressure mounts, and my God, she is so close to turning turbid, whatever the hell that means. All I know is that she is out for blood, and I’m determined to beat that little bacterium, the filthy wee beast that she is.

Word count: 1919


I’m…slowly…getting there.

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