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.
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.