I'm in a foul mood.
The Summer of 2013 spit on my sailing shoes, stripped my sanity and shook me down for whatever I had left by August's end. It all went to shit sometime in late June, when Anthony Soprano faded to black, Jesus Shuttleworth stuck arguably the sharpest dagger in Association history, and I was perpetually and ineffectually lost in a white-hot, west-side hospital with bad signage. July would cruelly take my beloved beagle, now buried in my ex-in-laws' backyard and, soon after, I was swindled by a Las Vegas cab driver right out of Total Recall. Last week, for good measure, I lost my day job of ten years.
At that point, your favorite handicapper considered quitting this column, or maybe just mailing it in. After all, my destiny was supposed to be the Great American Novel or at least a sex-noir screenplay later validated by Stephen Dorff's first Oscar nomination. Instead, I've been sentenced to this small saloon, in the vast blogosphere dubbed "the wild, wild west" by the real writers and professional journalists. Everyone and their brother has a blog now, you see. I'm just another no-talent, loaded gun contributing to internet lawlessness. Still, not even low self esteem and a succession of sour luck will knock me off this keyboard. I'm still standing, after summer thirteen, fists up in front of the monitor, demanding your best shot...much like Lt. Dan asked of Mother Nature.
And the numbers never lie. After nailing the Super Bowl last season, as well as both conference championship games, my readers were up fifteen dimes. Four out of the past five seasons have turned a profit. Truth be told, I have a nice arrangement at CST. I pick consistent winners at the bottom of this space, spare you the boring analysis, and serve up three or four snappy paragraphs in the process. If this is your introduction to Vox Lox and you don't bet football, stick with me all season anyway. I'll examine our microwave culture, and eviscerate the Browns front office.
Hmmph. I feel better already.
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Raiders (+10) over Colts, 1 dime
Cowboys (-3.5) over Giants, 1 dime
Jets (+3.5) over Bucs, 1 dime
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Who is the Vox?
SamVox is not a professional handicapper, but a premier one. He has been gambling his entire adult life and has experienced every sickening turn and nasty twist of fate that occurs during a football season. What distinguishes the Vox is his amazing intuition, astoundingly long memory, attention to detail and preparation, aversion to propaganda and access to the industry's sharpest bettors. He is a two time Pick'Em champion and went 125-107-11 against the spread with his Vox Lox over five seasons for a net profit of over 30 units. His critically-dismissed Vox in the Box column also appears here at CST.
SamVox is not a professional handicapper, but a premier one. He has been gambling his entire adult life and has experienced every sickening turn and nasty twist of fate that occurs during a football season. What distinguishes the Vox is his amazing intuition, astoundingly long memory, attention to detail and preparation, aversion to propaganda and access to the industry's sharpest bettors. He is a two time Pick'Em champion and went 125-107-11 against the spread with his Vox Lox over five seasons for a net profit of over 30 units. His critically-dismissed Vox in the Box column also appears here at CST.
