Goatriders of the Apocalypse

Bet on Black

Hello again friends. I just recently returned from a stint in Saint Louis, Missouri traveling with our favorite team and showing some poor Redbird fans how a real man sings “Take Me Out To The Ballgame”, and I’ve returned with a message for all of you: Always bet on black.

Let’s start with the end of this story…

I’m not a gambling man, but my finely tuned sense of luck and ability was telling me now was the perfect time to bet on black. I dropped a Jackson on the roulette table and watched that little white ball go around and around and around…finally landing on black. Success! Let’s go find a bar.

What series of events brought me to this position of good luck and economic dominance? I’ll take you back to the beginning…

My friend from school and I decided to travel down to the durty STL this past weekend for some good times with our buddies and to attend the Cubs/Cards game on Sunday.

Arriving on Saturday night, the cultural differences were quite obvious as we immediately stepped foot on enemy soil. Most notable of these differences was the complete lack of public trash cans. As we scanned for a place to discard our garbage, we were unable to find any trash cans. None! Looking around and noticing that the streets were exceptionally clean, we assumed there was just some public works system in place that allowed citizens to just throw their trash on the ground and a city employee would later pick it up. Seemed logical to us, so we just dumped everything on the sidewalk.

After finally reaching our friend’s apartment with our lives in tact, we spent the next few hours watching a UFC fight and consuming large quantities of big boy beverages.

Later that night, we decided it would be a good idea to go to one of the newly opened casinos in downtown STL and see if we could win ourselves some dollar bills for tomorrow’s game.

The casino was buzzing with people looking for some action (I’ll leave it up to you on what kind of action they were looking for) and I’m pretty confident I saw St. Louis Rams running back Steven Jackson…five different times.

As we cruised the floor searching for the hot table, we rolled across a particularly empty, low-stakes roulette game and grabbed a seat. Deciding to save my precious money instead of just throwing it away, I looked around the table to check out the other participants…when what to my wondering eyes should appear…but pitcher Carlos Marmol drinking a beer.

Yes, that’s correct. I had just sat down at a roulette table with Carlos Marmol at 1 a.m. in St. Louis.

The last time I saw Marmol in person was when he was brooding in the bullpen waiting to murder the Orioles about a week ago, but now he was relaxing with a massive chip stack, a fly honey on his lap, and a huge smile on his face.

After watching Marmol throw his money all over the board on random numbers (often validating the reason for his choices by saying “Why not?”), it was clear gambling was one of the last things on his mind. Noticing the excessive amount of money that Carlos was losing by betting on red, I decided it was time to make a move.

I’m not a gambling man, but my finely tuned sense of luck and ability was telling me now was the perfect time to bet on black. I dropped a Jackson on the roulette table and watched that little white ball go around and around and around…finally landing on black. Success! Let’s go find a bar.

So as you can see, everything worked out in the end. I got some money, Carlos ended up pitching a 1-2-3 inning the next day, and the Cubs won. So what’s the moral of this story?

Always bet on black.

OH please tell me...

...you said, "What's up, Marble?" when you noticed him.

Steak...

...sauce.

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