Cover the spread already...

I called my friend Roy in Kansas to discuss the game Sunday:

"The only thing different is they're not covering the spread. That's eight games in a fucking row I've lost betting on them."

"At least they won and have clinched a third straight AFC title game at home. You got to love that Roy."

"That doesn't do me any good asshole. If they don't cover my bookie takes my money and I am left with shit. The winning part is irrelevant to me."

When I called Roy to gauge his excitement about another Chief's title run I should have known better because he is a gambling man. KC hasn't covered a thing in eight weeks no matter what their record states.

"Don't worry Roy," in an attempt to calm his nerves, "They're going to beat the hell out of Buffalo. Get down on them again. Besides, they are due to cover."

"Due to cover," he says in a mocking tone, "I've been saying the exact same thing for eight weeks & all I'm getting from it is a shrinking bankroll. You really are a fucking moron if you think the Chiefs are going to cover against Buffalo."

"Are you going to take Buffalo instead?"

"No," with desperation in his tone, "I am going to take Kansas City again."

"Why would you take them when you are getting killed by them?"

"Because I am fucking stupid."

Chief's football in all its glory is too upsetting for Roy to discuss any further. We change the subject to something less stressful.

"Is your idol going to find a way to keep his job?" A belligerent snicker accompanies his question.

"I've told you this a hundred times Roy. He's not my idol. Tyreek Hill is my idol. Please stop calling him my idol."

"Whatever Trump lover," adding with a snicker, "If he's not your idol than why do you ride around with a Trump bumper sticker on your car."

"I don't have a Trump bumper sticker on my car jerk off."

"That's not what I heard," is his reply with another snicker.

"Whatever dude. Why don't you tell me something interesting? You use to be a fucking Legend," Roy's nickname back in the day was Legend. No one has referred to him as such in over twenty years. No one, that is, accept me.

The conversation shifts back to the betting line on the Chiefs.

"Look brother, I have been getting my ass whipped & my confidence isn't what it use to be. I will lay something down on the Chiefs this Sunday because I don't know any better. They need to fucking win or my bankroll will be gone."

Listening to Roy whine is annoying. He needed a pep talk in the worst way.

"Stop whining Legend. Get yourself together," he is a shell of the man he use to be...it's hard for me to except at times, "I want you to do me a favor & shift your thoughts from now to twenty years ago. Think about that guy back then & how he could dissect a spread in his sleep. All you did was pick winners. Think about all the confidence you had in yourself. Now keep that state of mind and go all in with Kansas City. You will get your money back & then some when they win the Super Bowl."

"I did pick a lot of winners back then," a hint of confidence finally returning to his voice, "I'm going to call my bookie and tell him to let it all ride on the Chief's this Sunday. Andy & Patrick won't let me down. Besides they're due to cover."

"There's the fucking Legend. He's back!"

"I hope your right boy. If not my wife is going to throw me into the streets."