"I hear you have a great big line. May I see it please?"
So were these words spoken at every sports book in America in recent days, as word of the nearly three touchdown spread was passed down from degenerate to degenerate. It is unlikely many took up the mantle and laid down their dollars on a line so large, a Wahlbergian line as they say in the trenches of Nevada and also the San Fernando Valley --- but for purposes of Suicide, where no lines exist, the knowledge of 19 points given is like sweet, sweetest music.
And so like the children following the Pied Piper, the participants have followed that sweet music all the way to the Great Northwest, and so too has followed the Swami. There are a few holdouts, most electing the Mile High or the Land of 1000 Lakes or Beantown or the Bay, the greatest mass has moved to that land of so little sunlight, in what must be the biggest "lock" pick in Suicide history. Of course, we have seen this story play out before, and the Reaper is waiting. Pride cometh before the fall.
The Colonel sends his regards.
That is all.
