Handicap Betting vs Spread Betting

As a long-time contributor to this sub, I know we love nothing more than discussing our degeneracy. If nothing else, hearing such stories makes you realise there are other people out there who have lived similar experiences to you. Stories of epic failure provide a sense of comfort. Stories of unexpected triumphs provide a feeling of hope.
The following bets - and the circumstances surrounding each - were not necessarily story-worthy. However, there were a number of intricate details which I felt were worth highlighting. Aside from the statistical rollercoaster than one experiences throughout a game (i.e. going from "how can this lose?" to "this bet is over"), there are other factors which can have significant ramifications for one's betting endeavours.
This is where the factor of timing comes into play. How often have you bet on something purely due to the fact that the game was starting shortly? It could either be a straight wager on the game. Or, you might have decided to add the short-priced "lock" to boost your odds. How often has this then come back to bite you? Or conversely, this random event - where your betting urge coincided with the scheduled timing of this event taking place - results in a recuperation of losses from previous games that you "studied" prior to placing your losing wagers?
Without further ado, this is my story. It is but a speck in the ocean that is my entire betting career. But it was a Sunday night full of swings, sweats and... well I won't spoil the ending.
As you read this, I want you to keep the headline in mind. Specifically, the words timing, luck and degeneracy.
It's early on a Sunday evening in Melbourne, Australia. Approximately 6PM to be exact. We are currently under the world's strictest COVID lockdown. We have an 8PM curfew, and I was keen to get in a 1 hour walk before returning home to make dinner. Now typically - as I had already walked my dog several hours earlier - I would not go for another on my own. But for some reason, I just had an urge to get some fresh air. Here is the first element in play: timing. At 6:10PM, an AFL (Australian Football) was scheduled to begin. As I begin my walk, I inevitably flick through my preferred bookmaker's iPhone app and this game catches my eye. Part of me says "don't bet it". The other part of me curb-stomps that voice in my head and says "don't be a pussy". Now on another note, I placed a daily deposit limit of $3000 on my account. To some, that is insanely big. I generally bet $1000 or so, and so this stops me from stupidly chasing the day's losses. Here is where another element peaks it's head: luck. I had deposited $1750 that day. Had I reached my limit, the following events would only have existed in a parallel universe. But as luck would have it, I had $1250 to play with. So I said 'fuck it' and made the deposit. It's about 6:05PM now and I don't have much time. I sift through the markets on offer and decide it's best to play a Same Game Multi (parlaying multiple events from the same game). With not much time left to make a decision, I quickly check the weather forecast in Gold Coast (where this game is taking place) and note that there is meant to be rain in the second half. (Spoiler: there was no rain in the second half). As this sport is played outdoors, this would favour the unders. So I come up with a bet that looks like this:

First quarter OVER 23.5
First half OVER 48.5
Full match UNDER 125.5
West Coast +34.5 handicap
Margin: either team by 1-39
Bontempelli 15+ disposals
Macrae 20+ disposals

ODDS: 4.10
A bet of $1250 would pay $5125.

I was ready to place the bet. The problem? The match was only seconds from beginning.
The time stamp on when the bet was accepted:
18:09:55
I made it by 5 measly seconds.

Ok, so game begins rather uneventfully. Now it's worth noting for those who aren't familiar with AFL that you can score by 1's and 6's. It's late in the first quarter and the total is sitting at 22 points. Needing over 23.5, I'm in desperate need of a goal. The whole bet is about to come crashing down without it. With only seconds remaining a player marks the ball from a score-able position. The siren sounds. Now in AFL, if a mark is taken before the siren ("buzzer"), the player may take their kick. As luck would have it, this legend kicks it right through the middle of the goal posts, and the first quarter score ends on 28. We live on!
Second quarter ends, and the combined total is 52 points. Again, we survive the over 48.5 by less than a full goal! (But this one cleared with a handful of minutes left to play, so there was no sweat involved).
I'l wrap up the remainder of the game fairly quickly, as it is rather uneventful. The final score is 47-49, so the total under 125.5 hits easily, the +34.5 and margin 1-39 hit comfortably, and both players rack up well over their required disposals. Fantastic. My account hits $5125.
By this stage, some would be satisfied. I wasn't. I was out for blood.
The smart move would have been to withdraw, say, $4000. Play with the remaining $1125 (house money), and lock in a profit. But what's the fun in that?
I scroll through the upcoming events and see that there is a Chinese Super League (soccer) match starting in a few hours. This isn't the first example of degeneracy in this story, but it's probably the biggest.
So what do I do? Another Same Game Multi of course. And how much do I bet on it? $5125 of course.
The bet:

Beijing Guoan: win or draw
Total corners: OVER 7.5
Total goals: OVER 1.5
BOTH teams to score in BOTH halves: No

ODDS: 1.95
A bet of $5125 would pay $9993.75

Here's where the rollercoaster of events begins.
5 minutes in, we have our first corner.
13 minutes in, we have our second.
Corners are looking good.
Fast forward to half time and Beijing are leading 2-0.

BOTH teams to score in BOTH halves: No = WINNER
Total goals: OVER 1.5 = WINNER
Beijing or draw = TBD, but looking good!
Corners OVER 7.5 = ONLY 2 FUCKING CORNERS IN THE FIRST HALF!

Remember, they had already accumulated 2 corners 13 minutes into the match. 32 minutes without a single corner!
The live odds for over 7.5 were now over 3.00, and I was losing hope.
The second half begins and approximately 10 minutes passes without a corner. I'm fucked.
The next 15 minutes feels like God (aka Bob from NBA Daily Discussion) had blessed me. A flurry of corners results in an 8th corner before the 70th minute mark!
What looked like a total sweat, turned into the easiest of victories. Or so I thought...
The final leg: Beijing or draw - who by the way, were 1.50 favourites to win the match - were still up 2-0. One book had the opposing team at 81.00 odds to win from here. But you guys can guess what happened next.
Wuhan goal!
I'm still leading 2-1. My brain: "it's all good man, you still have a 1 goal buffer".
Barely a few minutes later...
Wuhan goal!
It's now 2-2. My brain: "it's cool, you just need a draw, you're still likely to win this".
Including the 6 minutes of added time, I have to sit through approximately 20 excruciating minutes of soccer, with just under $10k on the line.
Luckily, Beijing did 75% of the attacking. Wuhan did have a few minor chances, but nothing that made the heart sink.
The referee blew the full-time whistle, and I slowly unclenched my ass cheeks.
I waited to see my account balance, just to make sure all was kosher. (You know, we've all been there, when we thought we bet on a certain team, but because their names are all Chinese, you actually bet on the wrong Beijing or something like that).
My balance appeared at $9,993.75.
It was time to call it a night.
I reflected on the past 6 or so hours that I had just been through, and the 3 things that kept popping up in my mind again were timing, luck and degeneracy.
P.S.
Sorry to all the Djokovic and Heat backers. Brutal. Especially Djokovic. I'd say that's a once-in-a-career circumstance, but I think that would be understating how unlikely it is that the best player in the world get's DQ'd because he inadvertently hit a ball into an official's neck out of frustration.

Pre-Match Thread : CA Osasuna - Atlético de Madrid

My Friend's Bed Was Haunted by Sexual Energy

I was signing autographs in a downtown Richmond book boutique when Henry came in. I had been there for over four hours, sitting at a folding table scribbling my name on the inside covers of endless copies of Night Terrors, and was exhausted. My arm ached and my head throbbed. Meeting a perpetual flow of fans, many of them gushing, is hell to me. Don’t get me wrong, I love them dearly, but social situations tend to repel me, and actually engaging people I don’t know is an awkward near impossibility.
It was nearing one, dark and nasty without, and I was longing for a nice long nap in my hotel room when Henry’s turn came. I thought that the woman before him, a middle-aged blond in a brown leather jacket, would never leave. But thankfully Mr. Preston, the owner of the shop, ushered her away in his prissy manner.
I smiled at the man whom I did not recognize as Henry. He was tall and pale, his wavy black hair limp and lusterless, the flesh of his face tight and his eyes an unhealthy pink which bespoke sleepless nights. He smiled wearily yet warmly.
Without a word he passed me his copy of Night Terrors. “And how are you today?” I asked as I sat the book down, my blue Sharpie pen, the second one of the day, poised.
“Just peachy,” he croaked, and I at once knew the voice. I looked up, and Henry was still grinning as if through pain.
“Henry!” I cried happily, and extended my hand. He took it, and it was like a block of ice.
I and Henry were like brothers since time out of mind; our parents were high school friends who lived next to each other in the Pickett subdivision on Thomas Street, and from diapers we were always together, on play dates, camping trips, and backyard pool parties. We were inseparable all through our school years, and only parted, tearfully and grudgingly, when I left Picketts Meade to study at UVA in 1997. Since then, we had seen very little of each other, as I lived mostly in New York City and he in the house willed to him by his childless aunt and uncle.
“Hey, man,” he said, “what’s goin on?”
“Not much,” I said, “same old stuff. Working and all that. What about you?”
He shrugged. “Same here, pretty much. Listen, are you free this afternoon?”
“Sure, what’s up?”
“I got a ghost,” he said, as though the words were kidney stones.
“Sure, I’d be happy to come by.”
Henry smiled again. “Thanks. You know where my aunt’s old place is, right?”
“Ahhh, no, I forgot.”
“Okay, here.” Henry pulled out his wallet and opened it. In the translucent slot where preening fathers proudly put pictures of their children, there was a faded Polaroid of two boys, one tall and skinny, the other short and fat, at a lake on a summer day in 1988, mugging it up with their arms thrown around the other’s shoulder. I had the same one in my wallet.
Henry produced a small piece of creased paper and, with my pen, jotted down the directions.
“I’ll be there at around four or so,” I said, sticking the paper into my blazer’s breast pocket.
“Thanks a million, man, I can’t tell you the kinda shit I been goin through.”
“I can imagine.”
“Good book; is it number one?”
I snickered. “Ahead of Glenn Beck? I wish.”
Henry shrugged. “Still a classic. I can’t believe some of the shit. All of it’s real?”
“As you and I,” I replied. I jotted down my name and a small, personal message onto the inside cover, and handed it back to Henry.
“I’ll see you,” he said. “I’ll be there,” I responded with a smile.
***
Almost two hours later I left the bookstore by the back door, emerged into a narrow ally of grimy brick walls, and carefully crept toward busy 5thstreet. Above, the sky was malevolently silent.
Before leaving the relative safety of the alley, I looked both ways along the sidewalk, and found it empty save for several rushing, bundled forms. For a moment I was reminded of those old shots of The Beatles running from mad throngs of screaming women through the streets of London, and smiled.
I stepped into a freezing gust and hurried up the sidewalk, passing drab storefronts darkened by the gloomy afternoon light. A Ford Focus passed by on the street in a splash of puddled rain, its red taillights glowing satanically in the mist.
Ahead, a brave hotdog vendor, possibly a transplanted New Yorker, stood tensely behind his cart, ready to feed the world. He offered me a taste of his wares, and the almost desperate imploring of his voice touched me. Imagining poverty and mounting bills, I bought a small fountain Coke even though I wasn’t thirsty, and almost as soon as I was out of sight I cast the cup into a metal trash bin, the clanking ice cubes within having sapped the heat from my hand.
Slowly the scenery bled into one of the residential. Dirty Brownstone tenements marched dismally into the ashen day, their crumbling stoops guarded by rusted metal sentries overflowing with rank refuse.
I finally came to the small lot where I had left my Jeep in-between a pick-up truck and a hatchback. The latter was gone, replaced by a small red Beetle. I fished the keys from my pocket and opened the driver side door.
Behind the wheel, I started the engine and the radio came to life with one bland Taylor Swift song or another. Before leaving I slipped Krokus’ Change of Address into the CD player, and slowly cruised back the way I had come.
Several minutes later I took a sloping onramp and met the babbling interstate; before I joined the flow I waited for several large Mac trucks to scream by in their shrouds of water mist. The meager Richmond skyline stretched away to the east, interrupted only by the wide river which bisects the city. Maybe it was the mood and light of the afternoon, but the city seemed a deserted necropolis, the buildings bizarre Druid ruins rising black against the sky.
Once on the interstate I noticed that several idiots cars next to mine were busy blabbering into their cell-phones or texting. I’m not the kind of guy who wants to ban this and that, or the kind of asshole who preaches his opinion to everybody, but I know what can happen on a freeway when someone wants to whip out the old Droid and chat.
One girl, with wet black hair and dressed in a loose white t-shirt, flipped me off when I motioned hang up and drive.
Women, I thought with a grin, they taste good…but the heartburn!
I soon took rural Exit 154 and coasted into the parking lot of a small roadside gas station fed by a narrow hillside lane. I pulled under the gas-pump shelter and killed Marc Storace in the middle of Burning up the Night. I searched my hip pocket and checked the directions again. The name of the town was Fairfield, not too far north of the city.
I got out into the damp and filled the jeep up with juice, wincing at the price. With that done, I crossed the open space between the pumps and the store, my hair dampening, and entered.
After waiting for a white man in a mossy oak camo cap to buy a six pack of Bud Ice and a black woman to purchase a pack of condoms and tampons (an ungodly mix, if you ask me), it came my turn. The wispy old man behind the counter, wearing country regulation suspenders over his button up work shirt, studied me for a long moment.
“Hey, you’re that writer fella, aintcha?” he asked with a rough smile, revealing that his teeth were mostly black or tarnished gold.
Despite a swelling of pride in my chest, I wanted desperately to avoid an embarrassing scene.
“No.”
“Hm. You look a lot like ‘im. She loves all that damn ghost huntin’ garbage.”
I paid for the gas, and the old man wished me a good afternoon with a crooked grin.
Once back in my car, I again studied the directions, trying to absorb them so that I wouldn’t have to constantly consult them in transit.
Feeling confident that I could make it on my own, I started up the engine and followed the ascending byway toward Fairfield.
I soon left behind all urban pretense and found myself speeding through low hills and tiny hamlets made up of slanted wood structures decades past their prime. It had begun to rain more steadily. Crossing the murky Roman River, I saw that it had overflowed its banks.
The winding lane took me past yet more hilly farmland enclosed by strands of barbed wire, putting me slightly in mind of northern England. When I came to the outer limits of Fairfield, which sat across another, smaller, swollen river, I was greeted by a white board sign proclaiming it as The Nicest Town in America.
Main Street, lined with gray brick shops dating from the 1920s, sank down into the rest of the town, from which a white church spire rose into the air, and a blue water tower next to a tall brick schoolhouse loomed supernaturally forth from the thick valley mist. The sidewalk boasted fiery trees, the embers of which carpeted the wet concrete.
At the four-way intersection, the only cars that I met were a station wagon going to the east part of town, a minivan heading back the way I had come, and an SUV going down into the heart of the town, which lied spread before the hill like a fog enshrouded dream.
I took the left and followed the street for a time, passing a small doctor’s office and the police station. The big roll-top doors of the local volunteer fire department were open, and I glimpsed several men in the gloom lazily wiping down the sleeping green dragon within. A group of children struggled down the sidewalk with crammed backpacks dragging along the wet pavement. A boy on a ten-speed bike shot past them and hung a sharp right, taking a small dead-end road ending at the foot of the hill. In the rear view mirror a large yellow school grinded to a halt, the red lights on its mounted stop sign blinking rhythmically. Teenagers tumbled out and hurried across.
Lee Street was an odd mix of ranch and Victorian houses, all beautiful and tastefully enclosed by hedges or withering gardens. A few of the larger homes were sectioned off with low stone walls waist high to a man.
The last house on the left was tall and narrow, dating back at least to the latter half of the 1890s. With spires and gingerbread trim it affected a stately air.
I parked along the street and sat for a moment, memories washing over me. I and Henry had come here several summers during our childhood. Being unable to have children, Jo and Oscar doted on us so much it was almost cloying. They were rabid antique collectors, and spent thirty happy years hoarding history together before Flight 93 went down over Pennsylvania on the eleventh of September, 2001.
I killed the engine and got out into a brisk slap of wind. After waiting for a minivan to swoosh past, I crossed the street. The grass along the flagstone walk was encroachingly tall, and I wondered if Henry’s ghost had hidden his lawnmower.
I bounded up the porch and knocked on the door. I waited in the cold for a moment, a wind from the west raking my flesh. Finally, as I cocked my fist to knock again, the door opened, and was filled with Henry, dressed as he had been at the bookstore.
“Hey, man” he greeted and moved aside.
“Long time no see,” I smiled. Stepping across the threshold, I was immediately struck by the heaviness of the atmosphere, crushing down on me like the world upon Atlas’s shoulders. I staggered, and Henry at one grabbed my arm and helped steady me.
“Uh-oh,” he said, “I don’t like that.”
“I’m fine,” I lied, looking suspiciously about myself, “just tired.” I didn’t at once remember what such a black heft meant, but I did know that it wasn’t good. At all.
“Well, if you wanna go back…”
“Nah,” I dismissed, “I’m alright.”
“Okay,” Henry said and led me from the shadowy foyer and into a wide parlor. A large bay window, an ugly modern addition, sat across the room, uncurtained. Save for tall, dusty bookshelves along either wall, the only other furnishings in the room were a couch piled with tangled blankets and a pillow, and two armchairs.
Henry showed me to one of the chairs and took the one across from me.
“So, what’s up? How’s life treating you?”
I sighed. “Alright. I hate the touring, though. I can’t stand being on the road.”
“Ah,” he dismissed me with a wave of the hand, “you always were a little homebody. I love the open road. Nothing like it. You want a drink?”
I nodded.
“Coke,” he warned me.
“Better be.”
He laughed and moved off to the kitchen, leaving me alone in the room. The dark feeling pressed down on me harder than it had been, compressing my chest. I tried to take a deep breath, but was unable. It was like standing on a high butte overlooking a strange plain in a dark world, the air thin and sour.
Henry returned with two Cokes. He handed me one and sat back down. “Sorry they’re not cold. I just bought ‘em on the way back.”
“That’s fine,” I said, opening mine and taking a long drink. Henry sat his between his legs.
“I saw you on Ghost Hunters last month,” he said with something like pride, “I was over at my old girlfriend’s house and when your mug popped out, I about went crazy. “Hey, I know that guy!””
My appearance on the popular SYFY Channel show had been little more than a publicity stunt engineered by my agent. I was against it from the first, but ending up going on anyway. The target was a 13th Century castle on an Irish bluff overlooking the crashing sea. Supposedly, a family of werewolves had lived there in the sixteen hundreds.
“They’re a sham,” I said, glancing around as if expecting a hostile apparition to materialize. Maybe I was.
“Who?”
“Those attention whores,” I said, referring to the ‘ghost hunters’. “There weren’t any ghosts. It was all faked. The noises. The mist. All of it.
“I figured,” Henry said, “they usually are.”
“I guess,” I looked around.
“Yeah.” Henry finished off his Coke and sat the empty can at his foot.
“So, what have you been doing?” I asked, “just hanging out?”
“Yeah,” he said, “aunt Jo and uncle Oscar weren’t rich. They had money, but not much. The way the recession’s going, I’m probably gonna have to go back to work soon.”
“Sometimes I wish I could just stop writing and investigating and all that and just live off my books’ proceeds,” I confided, “live the life without doing the work.”
Henry chuckled. “You’re lucky; you got a kick-ass job. I’m most likely gonna end up at Food-Lion or something.”
“Gotta start somewhere,” I said. “Maybe we can write a novel together.”
Both of us had tried as children to write our own horror stories. Henry’s were mostly better than mine.
“Maybe,” he seemed to taste the idea.
I opened my mouth to reply, but a stiff gust of wind slammed into the house, and I jolted.
Henry laughed. “Scared?”
I shook my head. “No, not really. I just…well, what exactly are we dealing with, here?”
Henry sobered, his face darkening. “I…I been thinking how to word this for a while now.” He paused. “You ever hear that phrase La petite mort?”
I missed a beat. “What?”
“You know, that French metaphor? It refers to a state of euphoria after you “finish.””
“Yeah, I know.”
Henry sat grasping for a moment. “People believe that some kind of spiritual lifeforce is…expelled when you cum. Somehow that’s like dying or something.”
“Uh-huh,” I nodded awkwardly.
“And in Ghosts and Ghouls, you said that some people think a ghost is just…leftover human energy. Right?”
“The atheists and agnostics in the field, yes.”
“Do you think it’s possible that…that release of energy can leave a…a ghostly residue?”
I laughed. “Henry, that’s just a metaphor; it doesn’t mean anything.”
“Are you sure?”
I opened my mouth, but closed it again. I couldn’t honestly say that I was.
“What…what makes you ask that?”
“It’s my bed,” he replied darkly.
“Your bed?”
He nodded. “Remember Sarah Kerns?”
For a moment I drew a blank, and then an angular face framed in raven hair materialized before my mind’s eye.
“Sure,” I said, “your girlfriend in eighth grade. What about her?”
“Remember how she moved over the summer, before we started high school?”
I nodded. Her father was in some kind of business that forced him to relocate often. I can’t remember what it was, though.
“The night before she left, she came over to my house and we did it...”
“Alright,” I urged, and then it dawned on me. “You still have the same bed, don’t you?”
He shrugged. “Never saw a good reason to get rid of it.”
“And you’ve…done a lot in it, huh?”
“A lot,” he admitted.
“And now you think…what, all that combined energy has created a sort of ghost?”
“Look, I know it’s crazy, but just hear me out, okay?”
“Okay.”
Henry took a deep breath and began.
Several weeks before crying out to me for help, he told me, he had been lying awake in bed. It was a windy night and he was as far from sleep as a man can get, so, as he watched the darkened ceiling, he let his mind drift unfettered. He had always had a fertile imagination, and was entertaining himself with undisclosed fantasies when, all of a sudden, the foot of the bed lurched to one side, as though booted by an angry WWE star after an in-ring betrayal.
“Man, that scared the shit outta me,” Henry said. “I froze up and just laid there for a minute. Then it happened again, and this time I got knocked off.”
Frightened, Henry jumped up, fell in the sheets tangled at his feet, and flew down the stairs.
“I sat here in the living room for a little while. After a half hour or so, I decided it was a nightmare and went back up. In the room, I flipped on the light switch and…”
He was quiet for a long moment, looking down at his ashen hands. “And there was a fuckin dead girl spread out on the bed, covered in blood and shit.”
I gasped softly at this, my heart freezing in mid beat.
“You’re sure?” I asked incredulously.
He nodded without looking up. “Yeah. And she looked like Hanna Giles…you remember her, right?”
I did. She was a cheerleader during school, a tall drink of blond perfection. She and Henry spent much of the 11th grade getting hot and heavy together before he grew bored and found another conquest.
“And…and she…sat up, her fuckin eyes were black and she had these long Dracula fangs. She opened up her legs and…fucking blood gushed out.”
He stopped at my hiss of horror. “It looked like…you know, in The Shinning, when that elevator opens up in the beginning?”
I nodded, my mouth slightly agape.
“I saw that shit and lost my mind. I ran out the front door and down the street. Spent the rest of the night in a booth at the diner, too afraid to come home.”
In the morning, Henry stretched out in the parlor.
“I was having dinner the next day. A buffalo chicken Hungry Man. So, I was sitting at the kitchen table eating, when something above my head, in the room, crashed against the floor. And right after, I heard this long, high pitched laugh.”
Stiff with terror, Henry remained unmoving at the table for nearly an hour before packing up and going to a motel for a few days.
“I was starting to think it was a nightmare, but when that shit happened…”
Henry eventually returned, convinced that the “ghosts”, while frightening, were harmless.
“So, one night, I got brave and went back upstairs to see what would happen.”
After several uneventful hours, Henry was on the border of sleep when something, something cold and dry, wrapped around his throat.
“It felt like hands, little…you know, a woman’s hands.”
The world grayed as Henry clawned at the phantom hands to no avail. He nearly collapsed into death before they suddenly and inexplicably spared him.
“That was the other night. I was about to leave, go get a motel or something, but I heard you were coming down, so I thought I’d see if you could help me.”
For a long moment I sat in brooding silence.
In 1999, I left school to work for a noted regional paranormal researcher named John Haggis. I accompanied him on many outings, most of them busts. Only three confirmed cases of the genuinely supernatural came across our desk in the three years I worked with him, one of them being the demonic haunting of a bar in Headwaters, a tiny hamlet nestled in the Shenandoah foothills southwest of Harrisonburg.
I learned several things from our experience there. One: Demons despise the presence of a professional. Two: While ghosts can, on extremely rare occasions, possess human beings, only demons can shapeshift and actually harm someone without the use of a human agent.
“Have…have you ever smelled sulfur here?” I asked, my voice natural, at least to my own ears.
“Rotten eggs? No, why?”
“You’ve been left alone outside the room, right?”
“Yeah. What about the sulfur?” he seemed impatient.
I ignored him and looked from one shadowy corner to another, the house bathed in a sour, uneasy silence. I was shocked to find myself wanting to get as away from the house as I could.
“Henry,” I drew, my eyes darting apprehensively, “there…”
I stopped. How would he take hearing that a demon was in his house? But was it really a demon we were dealing with? I couldn’t be sure; I’m not, after all, a demonologist.
“What?” he asked, his tone low and worried.
If it was, then it appeared to be attached to the bed somehow, like a ghost to a favorite rocking chair…
“…I doubt that your ghost is made of girl goo.” I at length flashed a smile, hoping that it didn’t look too fake. “I’ve heard of similar cases, and they are relatively easy to deal with.”
“Really?” Henry’s face brightened for the first time all day, and his tone was one of a child in the presence of a shyster birthday-party magician.
“Yeah,” I said, “no problem. Tomorrow I’ll call some people and they’ll conduct…sort of an exorcism. It’ll be a breeze.”
Henry sighed, relieved. “Okay.”
I looked again from corner to corner. “Hey, you want to go and get some dinner, my treat?”
Henry smiled again, his dark eyes alight. “Sure.”
We took my car, and drove off into the thickening gloom. Main Street was busier than it had been when I entered town; it was past six, and people were returning home from work in droves.
“Take a left up here,” Henry said as we approached the four-way, “and go for about…five miles. Place called Ryan’s.”
I nodded, lost in thought. I would have to call Tom Youngblood, the only demonologist in the Richmond area, in the morning. And maybe I would have to call the Catholic Church in town, too. Then again, the church has tried in recent years to distance itself from the supernatural.
I took the left, and descended down into the heart of Fairfield. Queerly, about a mile of hillside between the upper and lower sections had been left undeveloped, and was currently a hopeless tangle of dead grass.
“Man, I feel like a weight’s been lifted,” Henry said as we passed the dark shops and rain sluiced sidewalks, empty save for the phantom trees along the edge. “You can really do all of this tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” I said confidently. I took a deep breath, and seemed to blow away all of the mounting worry crushing my chest. I only had to call Tom and a priest, and they would take it from there. They were experts. It might not be an easy break, but it would get done. Demons were actually weak in the presence of religious men; which is why I abandoned my former atheism.
“Good. I can’t wait to get this shit behind me. It’s been a living hell, you know?”
I nodded, and then realized that it was probably too dark for Henry to see. “Yeah, I bet it’ll feel really good.”
“Like a million bucks,” Henry said.
“And…get rid of the damn bed. I don’t think that what we’re dealing with is…what you thought, but just burn it. It’s possible that the ghost is attached to it for some reason.”
“Way ahead of you, man,” Henry said. “I’m gonna go down to Mattress Warehouse and get me a new one tomorrow.”
At the end of town, just before the beginning of the dark, wet woods, I slowed at the traffic light, pulling to a stop alongside a school bus; the small lights affixed to the ceiling within were on against the dark. I saw a few dark silhouettes through the rectangular windows, and ascertained from their distorted shapes that they belonged to the high school’s football team.
“And…don’t have all your fun in one place, okay?” I said as we got back underway, the bus falling behind in the darkness.
“I ain’t gonna have that kinda fun for a long time.”
“Yeah, bullshit,” I jested in hopes of further lightening the mood, “you can’t go a week without having sex with someone…or something.”
Henry chuckled. “Yeah? I once went a month without doin your mom.”
“She needed that long to stop laughing at your…handicap.”
Henry laughed. “Okay. Just wait till we get there; take you in the bathroom and show you what’s up.”
I snorted. “What’s limp.”
“It won’t be limp when I shove it down…”
The restaurant, a sparkling oasis cloaked in primal black, loomed so quickly from the darkness that I nearly missed the turn.
“Alright,” Henry said after I had slid us into a slanted parking spot facing the empty road, his penis forgotten, “let’s get some grub.”
“You look like a German Jew,” I said as we got out of the car, “you need a good meal.”
“Yeah, thanks, mom,” Henry said as we crossed the parking lot. Through the big front windows, we could see happy families sharing joyful meals in the warm brightness.
We came to the double doors, and both held them open for the shuffling passage of an elderly couple. “Thank you,” the old man rasped and nodded as he helped his wife past us and toward a silver Cadillac parked in one of the closest handicap spots. They were immediately followed by two teenage girls in gym shorts and pink tops.
“What is it with kids dressing like that when it’s cold?” I whispered as we entered the restaurant, assaulted at once by the good odors of many steaming, mingling foods.
“If you got it flaunt it,” Henry reckoned.
We walked up to the long lunch counter and took cups, silverware and plastic trays from a hotplate guarded from inconsiderate sneezers by smudged plastic. We waited behind a party of rowdy college students to pay the casher.
We paid the chipper blond behind the register and were shown by a young sleepy eyed man in a red t-shirt and black slacks to a booth along the far wall of the room, mercifully away from the main population. Henry was immediately off to fix himself a plate at the buffet.
I sat at the booth for a moment, looking around the brightly lit room. It was crowded with families, mostly, passing food and laughing over their tables.
After another moment of inventorying how many people I would have to pass to get to the drink machine, I got up and moved to the Coke island. Apart from the dispenser there sat a plain metal canister marked with the picture of a tall, frosty glass of chocolate milk looming forward like a favorite uncle. I considered for a moment, and finally decided to get the milk, the likes of which I haven’t tasted since I was a child.
As I drew the dark liquid into my clear cup, a beefy older man in a brown leather jacket walked unthinkingly up to the machine and filled his cup with Sprite, all the while gasping softly to himself about someone named Mony-Mony.
Sidestepping a yellow WET FLOOR sign at the head of a nasty spill, I went back to the booth where Henry sat, bent protectively over a plate of fried chicken and breaded shrimp. I took my plate and quickly filled it up with French fries, several times nearly colliding with a young boy in small glasses examining each bright pile of food as if he would die if he did not detect the poison on his choices. At the booth I splattered a liberal amount of Tabasco sauce on the golden potatoes and dug in, my chocolate milk standing dutifully by should I need its aid.
“Remember Donny West?” Henry asked around a mouthful of food. I nodded. Donny had been one of our friends as kids before his mother moved the family to West Virginia. A beefy kid with red hair and deep freckles.
“Yeah. How can I forget?”
“He died.”
“What?” I asked, a bit of fry falling from my mouth and landing on the plate.
Henry nodded and swallowed. “I talked to his sister on Facebook, and she said he was drinking and wrecked his car into a tree a couple years ago. Took two of his friends with him.”
“That’s horrible,” I said numbly. Though I had not seen Donny in years, to hear that a once close friend was dead broke my heart.
“You remember what he did on April Fool’s Day that one time?” I asked Henry after a long, respectful moment of silence.
Henry nodded. “He had balls to do that.”
Donny, much more a practical joker than even Henry, had run the Stars and Bars of the Confederacy up the flag pole before school started that day. What made it even funnier were the facts that no one even noticed until lunch, and that the school sat right on the main highway in Picketts Meade.
“Yeah,” I sighed, black, cancerous nostalgia flooding me. “The good old days.”
We then lapsed into a comfortable silence. After savagely stripping the meat from a chicken bone, Henry wandered off to treat himself to a cold dessert. I finished the last of my fries and polished off the chocolate milk, my burning mouth greedily absorbing the cool liquid.
After a return trip to the machine, meeting once again the boy who had been diligently studying for his buffet safety PhD (he wasn’t quiet as conscientious when it came to Coca-Cola), I placed myself in my seat and awaited Henry. He soon returned empty-handed.
“They all sucked,” he declared.
I did not reply, but suddenly realized that the ice cream machine was next to the soda and chocolate milk fountains.
Suddenly, from across the room, there came a loud racket, drawling the puzzled stares of patrons in the gulf between walls. From a door came a line of people dressed in red shirts and black pants. The person at the head of the rank, a rather fetching teen goth with long midnight hair and a generous bosom, held something in her hands, something aflame, for her strong angler face was awash in orange. The Ryan’s troops behind her were clapping.
With mortification I saw them making a B-line toward our table like a personified children’s show choo-choo. Now all of the bemused eaters were looking toward me and Henry.
“You bastard,” I said, turning to Henry. He was smiling and clapping flourishingly. I broke out in my own grin, my cheeks afire. “Oh you son of a bitch; real funny.”
The Ryan’s Birthday Army now surrounded my half of the booth, leering over me like grinning psychos and clapping madly. I hung my head in embarrassment as they sat a flaming birthday cake on the table before me. “Bastard,” I muttered, lowering my head, realizing that now all of the other patrons too were looking at me and clapping.
Then the singing started.
I could just imagine Henry going up to our hostess and stage whispering across the counter, his hand shielding his mouth from prying lip readers, Pissst; it’s his birthday, pointing in my direction.
Bastard.
***
Coming out of the Ryan’s parking lot nearly half an hour later, I took a right on the rain swept street and followed it back to town past several large comfortable southern homes boasting screened in front porches and spotlighted flags. Most of these were protected from the street by rusted chin link fences.
We were silent and content, our stomachs full.
Finally desirous of breaking the silence, but too stuffed with food and lazy to speak, I switched on the radio, picking up a station from southern Maryland. After a “local” newscast about a New York mobster choking to death in a King George pizza joint and the discovery of a well-known radical poet shot dead in a D.C. parking garage, Cyndi Lauper came on with Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.
“Your song,” Henry croaked from the passenger seat.
I changed the station. The Culture Club was singing about a Church of the Poisoned Mind.
“Damn, must be your night,” Henry snickered from the darkness.
“Shut up,” I replied, hitting the scan button; the radio settled for a station playing a Seether song.
Henry laughed. “I meant you like eighties music. I wasn’t trying to say you’re gay…not that there’s anything wrong with that.”
Pulling to the end of Henry’s street, I noticed that we had left none of the lights on when we departed; the thought of waltzing through the door into the pitch black slightly uneased me.
I thought of asking Henry to stay with me at the Marriot in Richmond rather than me staying with him, but quickly decided against it; we’d be safe in the parlor.
Putting down my own childish reluctance, I parked the car at the curb and killed the engine, shutting Kanye West off in mid-rant.
We entered the house and immediately repaired to the parlor, where Henry took care of stoking a warm fire into existence.
That done, he came back to his chair and sank with a pleasured sigh. “So, you gonna write about this?”
To be honest, the thought hadn’t crossed my mind. “Maybe,” I said. Of course I would. Would it make it into my next book? It had a better chance than some of the other cases I had. People love their supernatural when it’s really weird.
“Well…” Henry said, but was interrupted by a terrible crash from overhead, which shook the house and caused us to jerk in surprised fear.
“There it is,” he shivered.
Another long bang sounded upstairs, as if something had thumped to the floor.
I swallowed around a lump in my throat, and opened my mouth, but was forestalled by another loud crash, this one followed by a stomach-piercing moan.
“Maybe we should go,” I stammered, a sudden bubble of stark fear overwhelming my cool rationality.
Henry licked his lips and swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing.
I looked appraisingly up at the smooth ceiling above my head, partly hidden by the gloom. There was another thump that stopped my heart and froze my blood. A shower of fine plaster rained down upon me like hard snow, and I quickly averted my eyes to avoid it.
“Henry?” I panted breathlessly, wrestling with my own galloping fear.
“Fuck this,” Henry affirmed and moved to stand, “let’s…”
Henry had been whispering, as if worried about disturbing his inconsiderate guest, so I was able to hear the soft, terrible footfall. It was as if an electric shock ran through me, reducing my bones to jelly.
I heard it again, louder this time.
Henry’s eyes were wide. “Was that…?” he whispered superstitiously.
I gulped and nodded. “It sounded like it…
From the dark upstairs hall there came a soft, fugitive creak. Henry was now fully standing, his wiry body tense and rigid.
“Hennnryyyyyy!” drifted a thin and ghostly greeting.
“Jesus Christ!” I exclaimed, and bolted to my feet. I turned to the dark threshold into the rest of the hostile house, and saw nothing but playing shadows.
“Hennnryyyy, baaaabyyyyyyy!”
I spun on my heels. “We have to get the hell out of here!” I whispered incoherently, my mind reeling. There was no hope of using the front door. We would have to pass the stairs…
Henry stood slack in place, his eyes wide and seeming to vibrate with terror.
There was a more confident footfall from halfway down the staircase, and a definite swish like that of a passing priest’s cassock.
“Come on!” I screamed, my fear boiling over. I desperately regarded the window beyond Henry’s chair. It appeared wide enough for both of us to escape side-by-side.
I grabbed Henry’s wrist, but pulling him was like trying to move a wooden post set deeply in the ground.
“Come on, we gotta go, NOW!!” I screamed franticly, hearing the loud moan of the last step. Henry shook his head as if shaking away a dream and looked at me with frightened, pleading eyes. But before a word could pass between us he turned back to the threshold.
And screamed.
Hearing the horrible, damned-soul quality of his voice broke my resolve and nearly my mind. It was the high-pitched shriek of a child on finally seeing the thing under its bed and finding it far worse than imagined; it was the scream of a sinner being shown into his new abode in hell; it was the pitiful cry of a madman.
Fueled by mindless animal terror, I sprang for the window.
Forearms thrown protectively over my face, I crashed through with a cry, and sailed into the damp night in a shower of broken glass, my stomach throbbing in my throat. I hit the grassy ground with an umph and staggered to my feet, my knees watery and quivering.
Behind me, the laughter of madness turned into the orgasm of agony.

Festival Games and Contests

Good stats to use for your picks?

Hertha Berlin VS Union Berlin, home side may get the 3 points

Somber, Massachusetts

Most small American towns have urban legends. Little stories that are told time and time again. Around the campfire, in the schoolyard, whatever. I'm sure you know or have shared at least one in your lifetime. I grew up in was a tiny little bubble in southern Massachusetts called Somber. We had plenty of urban legends. More than your average small town. The only difference there was;
Our legends were real. They are real.
We had a sort of mythos going that defined the town for us growing up. Everyone had their own head canon comprised of what stories they thought were real, and excluding stories they didn't believe or like. Everyone told the stories they had heard, and they would be passed from kid to kid like wildfire.
No matter who you asked, no matter which stories they chose to believe in, everyone knew about the Cultists, and the Void House, and the Night Gentlemen. It was required knowledge. It was a big deal to us back in middle school. Less so now, I guess. It feels kind of silly to look back on the stories. It brings back memories of the schoolyard and trying to one-up your friends at lunch. They were good times. Better times, maybe.
This is all coming back to me now. I'm a senior. I've got a few weeks out until graduation, and then college, and then everything else. I don't really have a plan for after that. Truthfully, I'm not really too sure what my major is going to be. It's just a lot to decide. A big decision, I guess. I don't know. That's not the point though. Basically, school is winding down, and we haven't really had much to do in class, so we skip class to hang out in the woods. There were five of us that get together after lunch. We've got a little bonfire back there, and some seats. It's not a bad setup. We just sit and talk, and there may or may not be alcohol involved. It beats sitting through classes with nothing to learn.
A few days ago, we somehow got to talking about the old urban legends we used to worship as kids. It was kind of funny going back and remembering. Of course, the first one that came to everyone's mind were The Cultists.
Basically, the story goes that before Somber was a town, way back in the 1800s, it was a settlement belonging to a group of devil-worshiping cultists and witches. These guys would summon demons and ghouls of all sorts, for fun, I guess. Well, one day, they summoned something so evil. so terrible and vile, that they fled the town. After that, some travelers set up camp, and it grew into Somber. Legend has it that the evil they summoned is still here, waiting to be uncovered by an unknowing mortal. And when it is revealed, it will be so monstrous, so huge, so incomprehensible, it will kill any human with its appearance alone.
Of course, there were variations. Some versions speak of a pendent that the evil is sealed away in, and some tell of a hidden summoning site where the evil still lurks. It depends on the person telling the story. It's a pretty interesting story of eldritch horror. I always liked it.
I suppose I should introduce a few of my friends. In particular, two of them. James is a really big guy. He has a big personality, he's physically big. He's super cool, and he's super approachable, which I can't say for most of the people who play on the football team. I mean, he hangs out in the woods telling spooky stories, so he's pretty cool in my eyes. Phoebe is his girlfriend. She's kind of quirky, but she tries not to make a big deal of herself. You'd think this would make their dynamic unbalanced, but they work together. In a strange way. I don't know.
This particular day, James was going to smoke with a bunch of his friends, so I decided to walk with Phoebe into town when school let out. I always felt like I didn't really know her that well, and always meant to hang out with her. She seemed cool. She is cool, which I can now verify. Regardless, I decided to walk into town with her.
Somber is laid out in a really tight way. There's obviously the stereotypical suburbs. If you've seen one, you've seen them all. Rows and rows of same-looking houses, trimmed lawns, and various Christian lawn signs. Just past that is a town area, with your diners and your shops, as well as a convenience store with a McDonald's attached, all on a big strip with the middle school/high school at the end of it. It made it easy to get around. Everything was so close. This meant the walk into town from the school was short, but sweet.
Phoebe was headed to the library, which was just off Main Street, where everything else is. On our way over, we got talking about the cultists. Of course, when we were kids, we believed the stories simply because our friends were telling them. But now, looking back the question had to be asked; were any of them true?
"Y'know, I bet some parent decided to make up some shit about demons and cultists to shut their kid up one night, and it just spread from there." She seemed amused by the idea of someone's dad coming up with the infamous cultist story. It was kind of funny, but it also made me feel a bit empty. Like I had been lied to. I decided to take the opposite viewpoint, just for argument's sake. Something about Phoebe told me she would be fun to debate with.
"I don't know, maybe the truth isn't too far off. Lots of cultists were fucking around with demons back in the 1800s. Hell, everybody was scared of demons. Maybe some crazy people accidentally summoned something on one of their satanism getaways." She laughed out loud now. She kind of snorted when she laughed, which I hadn't noticed before.
"This is assuming that demons are real and it is possible for a human to summon one."
I had to stick by my guns, even though she was tearing apart my argument. "Yes, this is assuming that. We don't know. Have you ever tried to summon an ancient, Lovecraftian evil?"
This put her back a little bit. "No, I can't say I have. Alright, I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. Say there actually were cultists that predate the town. Why hasn't this evil been discovered yet? Many people live here. Why hasn't anyone come across it or uncovered it, just fucking around in the woods?" She had a point. There wasn't really any evidence to support the story other than the story itself.
"Okay, fair point. I bet we could dig up something about the town's history though, to either prove or disprove the cultists. They have those big, useless books in the library that are, like, 100 years old. Great place to start." She agreed that we should do some research before coming to a conclusion, for sure. In fact, just as we reached this conclusion, we arrived at the steps of the library, and quickly made our way into the building and back into the "encyclopedia and old book" section.
The library was basically located in a castle. It was this massive stone building with huge gothic features and dramatic Victorian architecture. The inside contained a small foyer and reception area, which branched off into a maze of bookshelves stacked upon bookshelves. They were all crammed into these cramped hallways, separated into floors by metal floors that you could see through. Once you got into the maze of books, it was almost silent. I don't think I've even seen all of the library, and I spend quite a bit of time in the library. Despite this, Phoebe and I both knew where to go for the ancient books. They were next to the encyclopedias, of course, all the way towards the back of the library.
I don't know what it is about the library, but it always creeps me out. Like someone is always following you, or there's something lurking on the floor just above or below you. Maybe it's the silence, or something about the tight hallways. It's just an eerie atmosphere. I wasn't really thinking about it on that particular day. I was too busy thinking about mine and Phoebe's ongoing debate. Maybe I should have been paying more attention.
We made our way to the books, grabbed a few, and made our way to a nearby table. I forgot to mention, there are occasional tables set up with chairs sprinkled around the maze. It was the only thing to break up the monotony of books, and kids got caught making out on them all the time. I mean, their existence was almost made for making out. It was almost perfect, if it weren't for the patrol of librarians returning books throughout the library. The idea was less than appealing to me. Taking my hot date into a dusty, creepy, cramped library to make out on some old creaky table. No thank you. Not for me.
Anyways, back to the main objective of the trip. You could tell no one had touched these books in ages. They had a very thick layer of dust coating all surfaces. I don't even think the librarians had touched them within at least the past few years. "These things are disgusting." She blew a cloud of dust from the cover of one.
The book we were looking for was the one on the town's history. It was bigger than most books. It was bound in a very stiff material that almost felt like cardboard. The pages were also stiff, and stuck together. Luckily, the ink hadn't faded at all, and was very readable. The only problem was, the book was missing a huge bundle of pages. The first page that wasn't torn out started way into the town's history. Upon closer inspection, it looked like the pages were hastily torn out. "That's really weird. Look at the rip. There is no way that was done on accident."
"Maybe it was a Cthulhu worshiper trying to cover up the town's dark past." She nodded, closing the book, and grabbing another one from the pile. This one was the same size as the last one, except it was a little bit thinner. It detailed the town's church, which was the oldest building in Somber.
"If any of these books have anything on the cultists, it's gonna be this one."
"Don't you think the person ripping out pages in the last book would cover their bases and check all the books? You know, for mentions of any cult activity."
"They weren't trying to hide anything. It was probably just some unflattering information about the town that someone tried to censor before the library even got their hands on it. Stop jumping to cultists." She opened the book, looking to prove me wrong. After flipping just a few pages in, there was a chunk of about 10 pages that were completely gone. Ripped out in exactly the same manner. "That is certainly strange." She admitted.
It wasn't just those two books. Almost every one of the old books we grabbed had some number of pages ripped out in the exact same fashion. It looked as if someone were trying to remove a part of the town's history after the fact. I didn't really believe in the story about the cultists before. Just thought it was some old urban legend that was fun to think about, but was never really true. Those ripped pages gave me the creeps, and I think Phoebe was feeling a bit unnerved as well. It felt like we had uncovered something we weren't supposed to see. Except, we weren't seeing anything. The information was gone. The lack of information was what felt so off.
"Shit, someone was really trying to hide something." She put the last book on the large stack of books we had just looked through., and then picked up the stack to put it back on the shelf. It was almost disappointing. It's like we got a peek at what the real answer was, only to have it taken before we could reach it. Even if the lost pages talked about something totally unrelated to the cultists, it was so intriguing. I wanted to know what was on the pages.
On our way back through the maze of books, that eerie feeling came back to me, and hit me like a wall. It legitimately made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I felt like someone was watching us, following us. Getting closer and closer and closer.
"You two want to know about the missing pages, huh? You want to know about those legends?"
The guy popped out of a corner. He literally jumped out in front of us. He didn't give us any time to speak, or even react. He looked old, and a little mentally unstable. There was a certain fire behind his eyes that told me he had seen a lot in his lifetime. He dressed plainly, aside from a strange pendant on his belt buckle. If I had seen this guy in passing out in public, I would pass these features off as strange quirks. But he asked us about the pages. What did he know? What can he tell us?
Phoebe backed up from the man. She was obviously very uncomfortable with his presence, and was trying to distance herself from him as much as possible. "Yeah, we were just trying to settle an argument about an old story we told as kids." Her voice was uneasy. I backed up to be beside her. This guy seemed like he could jump out and stab us at any moment. I certainly did not want to get stabbed here, where we probably wouldn't be found for quite some time. The man seemed to find our uneasiness amusing, as he let out a little chuckle, which only made me feel more uncomfortable.
"I think we can help you out with that." He pulled a folded up piece of paper from his pocket, and reached out to hand it to me. I took it quickly, and unfolded it. It was an event flyer for some sort of gathering. It was oddly unspecific about what the gathering was actually about, but contained plenty of information on where to go and what to bring. It also brandished a pendant in the corner, the same one on the man's belt, with a name beside it. 'The New Century Order'.
Quite frankly, it seemed like one of those mega-religious cults that suck you in and don't let go. "Why haven't I heard of you guys before. The 'New Century Order'." I didn't really care too much about this guy's little cult. But his comment about the pages and the legends. It was like he knew what we were after. I scanned the flyer again. How convenient, the meeting was the next evening.
The man let out another little creepy chuckle. "Oh, we're very secretive. Invite only. Lots of people like us make themselves very public. We don't like that approach. We take our cause very seriously, you see." I nodded, folding up the flyer and pocketing it.
"We'll try our best to be there. Thank you for letting us know." I was trying to be as polite as possible, in case this guy was willing to stab a pair of high school students. His calm demeanor and wild eyes scared me, to be honest. He seemed like the kind of person you only see on the news, and the fact that he had just invited us to his cult didn't make him seem any more friendly.
He moved out of our way, allowing us to pass him and get to the exit. "Don't mention it. I hope I'll be seeing you there." He seemed too friendly. I went to go past him, moving quickly in case he was planning to surprise me with a back stab. Phoebe grabbed my arm as we walked back towards the library exit. It was only a minute before we were out of the maze, but it felt like an eternity. I kept looking back to see if the guy was still following us, but he was nowhere to be found. I wondered for a second where he went, but decided it didn't matter.
Eventually, we found our way back out into the library lobby. Phoebe eased up and let go of my arm. "Jesus Christ, that dude freaked me the fuck out." She quickly made her way out of the library, gesturing for me to follow. I didn't exactly want to stick around either.
"Yeah, he was freaky. How'd he know what we were looking for? And What's with his weird cult thing?" She shook her head. The whole encounter felt surreal, like I had imagined it. I pulled the flyer out of my pocket, looking it over a few more times. It contained no information on what the meeting was actually for, and spoke in vague PR terms that gave the whole thing a very creepy feel. Quite frankly, I didn't know what to think. I didn't know whether or not to go. I was curious, sure, but I also didn't want to get sacrificed to an imaginary god.
I knew Phoebe would be totally opposed to the idea of actually going to the meeting. "No way. No way in hell I'm going to a social mixer with a bunch of freaks like him."
"He knew what we wanted though. Maybe these guys are actually the real deal. Like, maybe they're the secret descendants of the cultists." I don't know where I was getting all of this. I had suddenly become one of the conspiracy theorists that get themselves involved with those cults in the first place. Phoebe nodded her head.
"Now you sound like one of them. How do you trust that guy? Did you see him?"
"It's always the crazy people that get it right, and no one believes them. I'm not saying he wasn't insane. I'm just saying maybe he knows something we don't."
She laughed. Obviously we weren't just gonna go to this dude's get-together and let ourselves be sacrificed, but it might be worth it to at least go and see what they were doing there. At least, that was how I was going to handle the situation. Legend or not, crazy or not, I was curious. That guy had one hell of a sales pitch. I knew Phoebe wasn't going to buy that. And I certainly didn't think she was gonna follow me to the meeting. We barely knew each other. Well, it's not like we were strangers, but we hadn't really talked that much.
"I mean, I can't really stop you from going. Do whatever you want. It would be a bummer if you got stabbed though."
"That's so sweet of you. They probably wouldn't stab me though. More like sacrifice my soul to their gods and then boil me alive in a cauldron."
"Either way, boiled or stabbed, it'd be a bummer." She was almost sincere. There really was a possibility that these guys would try to do something to kill me, which I had to consider before rushing into an unknown situation. I didn't actually want to get killed. I'd have to be careful and alert. I didn't even really know if I wanted to go. I'd have to sleep on it.
"I'll try to be careful. And I'll be sure to take lots of pictures."
"Okay, I'll take your word for it. You might want to ask Ian if he wants to go. He seems like the kind of person that would want to do something like that. Plus, I wouldn't be too mad if he got stabbed." I knew she didn't really mean it, but I also meant some part of her deep down really meant it. Ian was quite the character. He seemed pretty lonely outside of school. He lived away from everybody else at a small trailer park on the opposite end of town. He was kinda quirky, and seemed to get into a new TV show every week. He was the kind of person to be interested in going to a cult meeting for fun. I'd have to ask him the next day.
After that, we kind of forgot about the man and the cultists for a little bit. We grabbed a bit to eat, and then we walked down to the park near the school. It was a fairly lengthy walk, so we talked a lot. Well, I say a lot, but it was only really an hour and a half we walked around, and 30 minutes of it was spent in the library. It felt like a lot though, since like I said, I hadn't really ever talked to her that much. Turns out she's really into art. Likes to draw and paint. Never would have guessed.
Eventually, we got to the park, and she had James come pick her up. He had a really shitty old pickup truck that reeked of football gear. She didn't seem to mind. Like I mentioned, they worked well together in a strange way. She got into the pickup and drove off, waving out the back window as they turned back onto Main Street and out of view.
At that point, it was getting kind of cold, and the clouds looked like a storm, so I decided to start walking home. My head was racing now with ideas and thoughts about the whole cult situation. I truly did not know what to do. What if the old legend was real? What could I possibly do with this information? Were other legends real? How many scary stories had I told as a kid that were true? It all kind of hit me at once. I needed at least some of the questions answered. I decided I was going to the meeting the following evening. I'd ask Ian the next day if he wanted to go, and cross my fingers he would agree. Even if he was a bit odd, I'd rather go with him then go alone.
I tried to study for finals that night. It hadn't really crossed my mind that finals were coming up really soon, and I had to pass all of them to graduate. I had been sticking to a study routine every night for the past week or so. The day I ran into the man with Phoebe was Thursday, and then the next week was finals week. After that, there were two more weeks of school before graduation, but that was more of a technicality than anything. I usually have absolutely no problem focusing. That night, I just couldn't focus.
My mind kept wandering off to that meeting. I pictured myself standing before this huge, hulking figure. I could see all the cultists, holding their books up to the mostly unseen figure. They were honoring their ancestors that tried and failed to summon and harness the being's power. It has been lurking here all these years.
The idea terrified me. I couldn't stop thinking about it.
I did want to go to the meeting, but I was scared of what I would run into. I didn't know what I was in for. It was really kind of stupid. Even in the moment, I knew it was stupid. I had run into this guy who was obviously insane, and been given a flyer for a vague cult meeting. I don't know what he had said or done to creep me out and get into my head so much, but I couldn't stop thinking about what would happen if they were the real deal. Maybe I was turning into one of them.
Eventually, I gave up on studying and went to bed. Even if I had pushed all the shit aside, there was no way I was going to memorize anything with thoughts of Lovecraftian horrors plaguing my mind. Despite the distraction, I drifted to sleep surprisingly quickly. Of course, that night I had some of the worst, most vivid nightmares of my life.
Oddly, the nightmares weren't related to the cult or the meeting. It was very strange, and it didn't make sense to me even within the dream. I was sitting in a field with Phoebe, and we were alone. It was just after dark, and a storm was forming. It wasn't raining, but lightning cracked every so often in the distance. We were scared of something. I don't even know what we were scared of, but Phoebe wanted to keep running towards the storm, and I wanted to run away from it. We were both trying to pull each other in opposite directions, and she was crying harder and harder, and it started raining harder and harder. The last thing in the dream I can remember is that massive being standing just behind her. I tried to pull her away, but it was too late. I let go, and a massive crash of lightning came down and swallowed her. She was completely evaporated.
I woke up in a sweat. It was five in the morning, but I was totally awake. No way I was going back asleep after that. I left a note for my parents that I was leaving early, and I left for school. Obviously, I wasn't actually going to go straight to school. I just wanted to walk around town to clear my head.
Everything after that is pretty much a blur. I walked around town for a bit. It was drizzling ever so slightly, but I didn't really mind. School started, and I waited through my first few classes before sneaking out at lunch, and heading out to the meeting place. Lucky for me, Ian was already sitting there, eating a sandwich he had brought from home. "Hey, man, I know you're into that weird occult shit, so I've got a favor to ask of you."
He looked up at me. "I'm interested."
"Basically, there's a cult meeting this evening, and I really think they may be summoning a cosmic god, or at least they're trying to, and I want to go, but I'm scared to go alone, so would you be interested in going with me?" I was totally out of breath. If I was being totally honest, the nightmare from the night previous still had me a little freaked out.
"Hell yeah I want to go. If there are cosmic horrors to be seen, I want to see them." Conveniently, James and Phoebe were just arriving as he said this. Phoebe was less than pleased with the idea of Ian and I actually going to the meeting.
"I thought you were kidding. I didn't think you and Ian would actually go interact with these lunatics." She really thought I could resist going to the meeting.
James was naturally confused as to what was going on. He's generally very confused, but especially so given the situation. "Somebody tell me what's going on! Phoebe didn't mention a meeting." Just as he said this, Jenna showed up. Jenna is an interesting character. She associates with the 'popular girls' when she's in class, but comes out to spend half the day with us. It's weird.
"Sorry if I'm interrupting something."
Ian nodded. "No, this is perfect. Now I can explain the situation to everyone. Basically, there are these freaky cult guys, and Peter here thinks they might be on to something." My name's Peter, by the way. I don't think I've mentioned that yet. "So, we're going to scope out the place this evening. Maybe there'll even be some barbecue."
James laughed. "I kinda want to go too. That sounds fun." Phoebe smacked him, but this didn't change his mind. Great, now we had a group of three. James nodded at Jenna. "Phoebe's obviously out. What about you? You coming?"
She had to think about it for a second, before agreeing. "Yeah, if you guys are going, I'll go too. Sounds like it could be interesting." Phoebe was not happy that everyone else was going to the meeting, and she wasn't. "C'mon Phoebe, you gotta go. It'll feel incomplete without you." Jenna was right. Just the four of us would feel incomplete somehow.
"Alright fine. You guys are really good at peer pressure, I guess." I didn't say or show it, but I was really relieved we were going as a group. The thought of putting myself in that situation alone was just terrifying. I really did not want to do that, so it was a relief to have other people going. I did feel obligated somehow to put out a warning though, so nobody went into the situation thinking it was going to be a chill hangout session with some friends.
"Okay, everybody, listen up, this is important. This isn't some get together or party. This is serious stuff. These people may be dangerous, regardless of if they can actually summon a demon or not. Come into it with an open mind, and stay alert. Okay, people?" Everyone agreed. I gave everyone the meeting information, and we all agreed to be there 15 minutes early. It was officially a date. The rest of the day was fairly normal. No talk of cosmic horrors or other such urban legends. Just us hanging out. It was the calm before the storm.
Inevitably, we had to all split up and go home, before meeting again at the location. After we all left, time went by really fast. I was still dreading going to the location, even with a group of friends backing me up. The meeting was happening at seven o'clock, at a local park, right by the baseball diamond. It was a pretty common place for events, and it was walking distance from my house.
When 6:30 rolled around, I headed out for the park. I told my parents I was heading over to Ian's, and wouldn't be back until late. They agreed, and let me go. I brought a backpack with a flashlight and a small crowbar I found in my garage, just in case things got hairy. I didn't really have any other weapons, so I decided to use what I had and run with it. It didn't take me long to get to the park, and when I arrived, the only one there was Ian.
Slowly, the others started showing up, and by 6:50, we had the group assembled. We decided to first stake things out in a pavilion that was away from the meeting spot, but still in view. Starting at seven, people started showing up.
The weird thing about it was, these people weren't strange-looking, or dressed in ominous robes. They were average, middle-aged men and women. It was so weird. I was expecting stereotypical cultist figures, immediately going to some sort of summoning circle and chanting phrases in Latin. But no, it wasn't anything like that. These were average men and women, mothers and fathers. It made the whole situation seem so much less scary.
Somehow, and against my will, the group voted that I should go and interact with the group. I obviously protested against this. "No way. What if they have shotguns or something? I'm an outsider. What if they shoot me or something?" This was quickly shoved to the side.
"Are you looking at the same people? They look like my parents! Just go, dude. It's for the investigation." James was kind of right. We were all curious as to what was actually going to take place. So, I put on my backpack and decided to just bite the bullet and head into the crowd. The walk across the field seemed like it lasted forever, but I eventually made my way to the gathering. And guess who greeted me? The man from the library.
For the first hour or so, it was like a social gathering. People were chatting, catching up with each other. It was a surreal experience, to say the least. I communicated back to the group in the pavilion via subtle hand gestures. I checked in every ten minutes or so, letting them know I was okay. To be honest, I wasn't really okay. I was freaking out. It was getting darker, and the only thing lighting up the meeting area was a few LED lights the group had brought. No one tried to talk to me. It was probably the strangest situation I had ever been in. Little did I know, it was about to get a hell of a lot stranger.
Eventually, at around 8:15, there was a sudden and total shift in mood. Everyone kind of congregated in a square type shape. I tried to stay out of it, but I was pulled into the shape by the man from the library. The LED lights gave the group a very eerie feeling. I was feeling very much in danger.
After the shape was fully formed, two people stepped forward and stood in the circle. A man and a woman. They looked like a couple, but I couldn't be sure. Unprompted, they started taking their clothes off. They stripped down until they were fully naked. I was totally freaking out, and looking for a fast way out of the situation. The man from the library, who stood next to me, must have noticed, because he patted me on the shoulder. "Everyone's nervous their first meeting. You'll come around once you see the light show."
"The light show?" I could barely get the words out.
He didn't say anything. The two people in the square now stood facing each other. They looked scared. The man from the library stepped out into the circle. "We are strong, ladies and gentlemen. We are gathered as one." He spoke like a preacher. "We are strong, but we need more. We are not ready. Do not be sad, and do not be angry. He will rise one day. We must let out more of our souls. We must keep collecting. Now, who's with me?" The square erupted in applause. Men and women, screaming and cheering. "Stop!" When he shouted, there was silence.
From a holster attached to his hip, the man pulled out a small handgun. "This is for man. This is for the living mortals that stand with us here today." He shot once at the bare chest of the man. The bullet left a hole, but it did not bleed. "This is for the spirit. Those who exist beyond our comprehension, locked away beyond our eyes, but still linger in our plain." He shot the woman, leaving a similar hole.
I couldn't move. I knew the group was sitting safe, away from the action, but still watching with as much horror as I was. Thunder boomed in the distance. It was getting very cold at the gathering spot. I thought about taking the crowbar out of my bag, but decided against it.
"Now, please, divine deities from the plains above, rise! Rise from man and the spirit! The living and the dead! Rise! Rise!" The crowd began chanting with him. Rise, rise, rise, rise. They chanted in a crescendo of noise. Lightning struck all around us. The wind sent a chilling melody whipping through the leaves. As the voices got louder, the man and woman began to bleed from the holes in their chests. They did not bleed blood, but rather a thick viscous material that almost let off some sort of light. The voices got louder, and louder, and louder, and...
From the mouth of one of the members of the square, across from me, shot a stream of red. I couldn't tell if it was liquid, or light, or something else. At the same time, similar streams came out of the man and woman in the center. The streams formed a ball of matter in the center. A red mist was beginning to form as well. Suddenly, two more streams fed into the center, from two more people. Voices were chanting, and the lighting was crashing. A presence was rising at the center of the square. For a brief moment, a massive figure was illuminated by a lightning strike. It stood taller than any building I'd ever seen. It was truly beyond comprehension.
I think the sight of that massive figure was what snapped me into action.
I will never understand why I did what I did, but something inside of me told me I had to put a stop to this ritual. I knew that if it was completed, something awful would happen. I leaped forward, pushing down the man from the library, who fell to the ground. In the same motion, I pushed the man in the center of the circle down, causing the red streams to disappear, and the mist that was forming to fall to the ground like rain.
Suddenly, the people weren't chanting, they were screaming. Screaming at me. I looked over at the pavilion, which I could barely see in the darkness, and I sprinted. I ran as fast as I could away from the hoard of people who were after me. The lighting and thunder persisted, still going strong. I looked, but I could not see the massive figure anymore.
I was met at the pavilion with a flurry of questions and confused shouts. I couldn't stop for any of them. "We need to get the fuck out of here." Everyone understood, and we ran. Somehow it was decided upon that we would head back to Jenna's house. I think her parents were out of town. I don't remember much of the run to Jenna's. My head was spinning. I was still trying to grasp what I had just seen, but I was unable to. I just couldn't understand how I had just experienced that.
We arrived at Jenna's house, and gathered ourselves in the living room. We made sure everyone was okay, and everyone was accounted for. It was only in this aftermath that I realized a bullet had grazed me, and left me bleeding on my leg. It wasn't anything major. I had so much adrenaline pumping through me, the pain hadn't really hit me yet. Jenna had some gauze in her bathroom, and Phoebe helped me patch it up.
"Are you okay? That was seriously fucked, man." I felt the sting of the gauze.
"Yeah, I think. I'm still rattled. I think I need some sleep." Truthfully, there was no way I was sleeping that night. There's just no way you can sleep after an experience like that. My mind was bouncing around at 60 miles per hour.
"Yeah, I think we all could use some time to process. Seriously, that was fucked, man. I don't even know what I just saw." I nodded in agreement. I stood up, and felt a little sting. I felt incredibly lucky I hadn't just been shot square in the leg. I might not have survived if I had been handicapped like that. It was a scary thought.
After that, we all agreed to just head home and talk about it the next day. We decided it was urgent enough to meet at our spot in the woods the next day, Saturday. Everyone agreed on noon, and then split up. I asked Jenna if she could give me a ride home, and she agreed.
We didn't talk on the way to my house. It was a short drive anyway. She pulled up in front of the house, and put the car in park. "I'm sorry I pulled you all into this. I didn't think they'd actually be summoning real demons. I just- sorry." I hadn't even thought about what I'd be pulling my friends into prior to the meeting. I didn't think it would get so serious.
"Don't be sorry. You didn't know. How's your leg? Looked like it was pretty gnarly."
"Nah, it's not too bad. I'm really lucky he didn't hit my leg and cripple me. They would've got me." She asked like she actually cared. She and I go way back, probably back to kindergarten. I probably know her the best out of everyone in the group. We hadn't been hanging out recently though, and that's been kind of bumming me out.
"Okay. Well, try to stay off it. I'll see you tomorrow. Stay safe, okay?"
"I will. Don't worry about me."
"Okay." She leaned over and kissed my cheek. More of a friendly thing, I think. A signal of assurance. Like, I was going to be okay. And I was going to be okay, if not a little shaken for a little while. I popped open the door and climbed out, being careful of my leg.
"I'll see you tomorrow." I shut the door, and made my way to the door. She stuck around for a little bit, before pulling away into the night. The thunder had completely died down at this point, and it had begun to drizzle. The image of the red mist was still fresh in my mind. I made my way quietly up to my room, and crashed into my computer chair. It was still fairly early in the night, around 9:15, but I felt exhausted.
That's pretty much it, so far. The old legend was actually true. I was right to have a hunch. I'm still not sure what happened, or if it actually did happen. It was all so fast, I didn't have time to process it all. It's around ten now. I wanted to actually type this out. I thought that maybe if I wrote out the events leading up to now, it would somehow make sense. Still doesn't. It feels really dark in my room. My leg hurts, and I feel alone. I might try to get some sleep, just to make the night go by faster. The only thing that makes me nervous is the nightmares. I don't know. None of the nightmares could possibly be worse than what I had just gone through.
I'll update soon, or when something interesting happens. Whichever comes first.

The Challenge: Total Madness Pre-season Survey Results

Well hello everybody currently in quarantine (except for you essential employees and you "essential" employees, you all will see this later)! It has been a crazy 2020 so far and all of us have anxiously been awaiting the upcoming season and we are now less than a week away! After gathering 613 responses, I give to you this season's results. Enjoy!
Which rookies are you excited for?
While this season brings a ton of new competitors that show a ton of promise (and others I would prefer never to have seen again) Jay Starrett aka Jaaaaayyyyyyyyuhhhhh, aka "Where are you Corey Brooks?", is the competitor that received the most votes with 322. Comp beast Kaycee Clark managed to come in second place with 247 votes. Giant Faysal "Fessy" Shafaat ended up coming in third with 220 votes. These are definitely the three I am most looking forward to coming into this season and I can't wait to see how they will perform as The Challenge is much different from Survivor and Big Brother. The rest are as follows: Asaf Goren 129, Batleigh Dayton 103, Christopher "Swaggy C" Williams 59, Jennifer Lee 58
Which returning players are you excited for?
While we have a large selection of returning players, Wes Bergmann received a whopping 419 votes and it is easy to see why. Wes has been doing this show for a very long time and every time he returns for a few seasons everybody gets hyped. We have also seen a different Wes in each of his returns. u/RIPGrantland wrote an excellent article about Wes through the seasons and is an excellent read. Coming in second place is Tori Deal with 381 votes. Tori has had an interesting ride while on this show. I was hyped to see her on Dirty XXX because I saw her do well on AYTO: Second Chances. Then when she came on Final Reckoning with Derrick "Popcorn Muscles" Henry she didn't do so well and everybody talked about how horrible of a competitor she was. However, I knew my girl was still a good competitor and was just waiting for her to return again. Fast forward to War of the Worlds 2, Tori won multiple eliminations before unfortunately being purged in the final. While I am happy Dee was able to achieve a win, Tori was definitely the most deserving woman on that cast. Hopefully, Tori will get that win this season. Funny enough, trailing Tori by 1 vote is her fiance Jordan Wisely. Jordan got 380 votes and while Jordan can very much be an asshole in this game nobody can deny he is one of the best to play this game. Jordan has won 3 out of the 5 seasons he has been on. That is insane! My top 3 competitors (in no particular order) are Darrell, Landon, and Jordan. Jordan has won a title as pairs, individual, and team. If he is able to pull out another win, he may become the GOAT. The rest are as follows: Chris "CT" Tamburello 368, Mattie Breaux 344, Steven Bear 303, Kyle Christie 300, Jenna Compono 262, Johnny "Bananas" Devenanzio 254, Nany Gonzalez 206, Melissa Reeves 201, Kailah Casillas 185, Ashley Mitchell 183, Jennifer West 164, Dee 168, Aneesa Ferreira 128, Cory Wharton 121, Nelson Thomas 106, Tula "Big T" Fazakerley 103, Rogan O'Connor 95, Josh Martinez 85
Which competitors are you least excited to see?
It warms my heart when we come together as a group and can collectively shit on a player. Swaggy C received the most votes with 232. Swaggy C was insufferable to watch on Big Brother and he was the second person evicted. Then there was some controversy with him, Bayleigh, and another Big Brother competitor from BB19. While I do not know the details of the controversy super well I am sure a quick google search will tell you everything you need to know. I never want to see this fool on my TV ever again and I can just hope that we see him against CT in Hall Brawl to humble this arrogant little prick. Sorry, lost my cool there for a second. I just really do not like him. Coming in second place is another Big Brother player in Josh. Josh received 217 votes and is going into his third season. Would we have ever seen Josh again if Alan hadn't hurt his hand during War of the Worlds? While Josh has not been particularly impressive on his two seasons he has done a lot better than I thought he would have done. While I am not necessarily excited to see him, I am not not excited to see him return. To round out the top 3 we have good old reliable Aneesa with 214 votes. Aneesa has been one of those competitors that when you start to forget that she is on this series she comes back for a season or two. She used to be a big physical threat when she was younger but has started to become somewhat of a joke as she has done the most season without ever having won. Will Aneesa redeem herself and get a win this season? I'm pretty sure the answer is no. The rest are as follows: Cory 208, Nelson 177, Big T 174, Bayleigh 161, Bananas 154, Rogan 138, Ashley 130, Kailah 126, Melissa 96, Jennifer 91, Dee 86, Nany 85, Asaf 80, Jordan 65, Fessy 62, Kaycee 58, Bear 51, Jenna 48, Jay 41, CT 37, Tori 33, Jenny 30, Kyle 30, Wes 21, Mattie 16
Who is the most attractive male?
Just when I thought all of us were on the same page 110 (19.2%) voted that CT was the most attractive male on the cast. Come on people. If you had to pick one guy on the cast to have sex with, you are honestly telling me that CT of all people is your first pick? Some of y'all need to reevaluate some life choices. At least Jordan (a more realistic answer) came in second place with 70 (12.2%) votes. Rounding out the top 3 is Bear with 62 (10.8%) votes. The rest are as follows: Cory 61, Rogan 52, Kyle 44, Jay 43, Fessy 40, Bananas 36, Wes 31, Asaf 18, Nelson 4, Swaggy C 1. Poor Josh received no votes.
Who is the most attractive female?
We have an amazing top 3 women here and it was really close. Nany has always been drop dead gorgeous and becomes more beautiful with each passing season. She received 114 (18.9%) votes. This is the second survey in a row that Nany has held the spot of most attractive female. Jenna was just behind Nany with 111 (18.4%) votes. Tori managed to come out in third with 97 (16.1%) votes. The rest are as follows: Melissa 68, Kailah 66, Mattie 41, Dee 25, Jennifer 22, Ashley 20, Kaycee 11, Jenny 11, Bayleigh 9, Big T 7, Aneesa 2
Which guy will have the most hookups?
It should be no surprise who is predicted to have the most hookups for the guys. Bear managed to receive over half the votes with 318 (52.7%). We have seen Bear hooking up with Georgia and attempting to get with Nany all while having a "cousin" back home. Then on War of the Worlds 2, he continued his on and off fling with Georgia and had a connection with Laurel as well. Some of us know who will be next on his list for Total Madness, but I will keep it a surprise for the unspoiled gang. Far behind Bear, in second place is Kyle. Kyle got first place on our last survey and is still ranking high. Kyle has had some sort of hookup every season besides last season from what I can remember. Kyle received 98 (16.3%) votes. Did anybody not expect Cory to end up on this list as well? Cory started strong as a hookup king but started to not hookup as you actually have to be in the house for more than a day. Cory ended up with 90 (14.9%) votes. The rest are as follows: Rogan 48, Asaf 15, Nelson 14, Jay 8, CT 4, Fessy 4, Bananas 2, Swaggy C 2. Jordan, Wes, and Josh did not receive any votes.
Which girl will have the most hookups?
Oh Kailah. How I have missed you. After seeing her consistently for four seasons plus a spinoff I was getting tired of seeing her. The best thing any competitor can do is take a break because when they return, they are typically more liked than when they left. As I addressed earlier I won't be spoiling any hookups, all I'm going to say is Kailah ended up at the top for a reason. Kailah received 150 (25.1%) votes. In a somewhat similar vein, Melissa ended up on this list but I am not going to go into what is going on in her personal life right now. While she appeared on two seasons, she really only stayed around on one for a bit and for whatever reason she decided to go for Nicole. Nicole of all people! Melissa is gorgeous so I don't understand why but whatever floats your boat. Melissa received 119 (19.9%) votes. To complete our top 3, who other than Ashley. Ashley invented the word polidicking for us to use and has a lengthy list of challenge guys. If Ashley is on a season, its a safe bet she will try to hookup with someone. Ashley received 116 (19.4%) votes. The rest are as follows: Nany 87, Dee 60, Mattie 23, Aneesa 18, Jennifer 11, Kaycee 4, Jenny 4, Bayleigh 4, Jenna 1, Big T 1. Tori did not receive any votes.
Who is the most skilled male athlete?
This category was a complete blow out! Jordan is winning this category for the second time in a row. Taking 490 votes which is 81.1%, Jordan has shown how much of a beast he is. Jordan is easily the best well rounded athlete on the show and excels in everything. Honestly, there is nothing this guy is bad at. The only time he lost an elimination was when he was up against Bananas and the elimination kind of required two hands. Despite Jordan's handicap he is one hell of a competitor and I am always glad to see him show up and raise the bar for other competitors. Because I have already committed to writing about the top 3 I guess I have to continue. Guys I am tired of writing about CT. Truth is, I am tired of him. Y'all keep hoping he comes back to smash heads but I wouldn't mind seeing him take a season or two off and get back into amazing shape. I will not deny that he is quite skilled but is he still up to par? He hasn't seen an elimination in quite sometime so I am excited he doesn't get an easy trip to the final this season. CT received 35 (5.8%) votes. To round out the top 3 is Bananas with 31 (5.1%) votes. The rest are as follows: Wes 20, Fessy 18, Rogan 4, Bear 2, Nelson 2, Jay 1, Kyle 1. Asaf, Cory, Swaggy C, and Josh did not receive any votes.
Who is the most skilled female athlete?
And everybody's favorite challenge couple, since Diem and CT, continues to reign. Tori ended up grabbing the top spot just like her fiance. Tori proved this past season she is as well rounded of a player as Jordan is. Her only weak point may be puzzles as that was the part that got her purged in the last final. However, she has done alright with puzzles in the past so it may have just been some bad luck (or previous times were just good luck). Regardless, Tori is an excellent competitor and I am excited to see her back. Hopefully this will be the season she can get that W. Tori received 279 (46.3%) votes. Seeing Jenny do so well last season, we were all expecting her to make the final. We did not anticipate that when it came to getting physical with another competitor, she would fall a bit short. Tori steamrolled Jenny. However, Jenny physically competed very well in every other aspect of the season. She is a legit bodybuilder and an excellent swimmer. I am hoping that in the off season Jenny joined a rugby league or something so she won't be afraid to throw down with someone. Jenny received 154 (25.6%) votes. Kaycee managed to obtain the third spot on our list. Kaycee plays for a football team and won the final 5 veto competitions in Big Brother. These competitions were not just physical either. I am too lazy to look it up but they had a combination of physical and mental comps. She has shown she can do well on Big Brother but the challenges are much more intense than Big Brother. She has shown promise from her Big Brother and hopefully it translated to The Challenge. Kaycee obtained 53 (8.8%) votes. The rest are as follows: Ashley 52, Mattie 16, Jenna 14, Dee 12, Kailah 9, Aneesa 5, Melissa 2, Tula 2, Jennifer 2, Bayleigh 1, Nany 1
Who is the best politician?
Can you say three peat? Wes manages to win best politician for the third survey in a row. While he had a subpar political season on War of the Worlds 2, he did rather well on War of the Worlds. Everybody also remembers the absolutely perfect game he played on Exes 2. However, the unfortunate twist that season sent him home shortly before the final and he was the only person that did not get a second chance. Wes needs to be sure to lock down his close allies this season and bring in some new rookies. He needs to take more of a backseat than he did on War of the Worlds 2. I am optimistic that Wes learned his lesson last season and will play a bit smarter this season. Wes received 245 (40.5%) votes. It is no secret I do not like Bananas and I do not think he is a great politician. He seems to screw over every ally he ever makes and his ride or die, Leroy, is not on this season. I am wondering if Bananas will adapt and try to play a better political game or if he will end up in elimination early like he has the rest of this trilogy. Bananas gained 118 (19.5%) votes. The top 3 would not be complete without the girl that invented polidicking, Ashley. This girl's political and social game is top notch. She always manages to integrate herself into an alliance and rarely sees eliminations. Ashley received 89 (14.7%) votes. The rest are as follows: CT 85, Kyle 32, Jordan 9, Rogan 6, Jenna 5, Tori 5, Nany 4, Bear 2, Big T 1, Asaf 1, Josh 1, Melissa 1, Kaycee 1. Bayleigh, Swaggy C, Fessy, Jay, Jennifer, Nelson, Mattie, Kailah, Jenny, Dee, Aneesa, and Cory received no votes.
Which competitors would you want to hang out with?
Once again, Tori manages to come out on top. At times Tori can seems a little unusual and quirky, but most of the time she seems like a pretty cool person who likes to go out and have a good time. She is not the type to go around purposely starting drama in the house. She just wants to play the game and have a good time. This resulted in her receiving 372 votes. CT once again finds a spot in the top 3. After going from a hothead to more of a godfather and voice of reason in the house, CT managed to rack up 363 votes. Everybody's favorite ginger makes an appearance in the top 3 as well. Wes always posts the best tweets and takes funny jabs at fellow competitors, so he would be sure to make you life if you had the chance to hang out with him. Wes obtained 329 votes. The rest are as follows: Kyle 284, Mattie 274, Jenna 255, Nany 255, Jordan 228, Bananas 210, Bear 201, Ashley 176, Dee 169, Jay 168, Kailah 122, Melissa 111, Aneesa 107, Kaycee 105, Jenny 105, Josh 84, Rogan 82, Fessy 71, Cory 64, Big T 62, Nelson 54, Asaf 35, Bayleigh 29, Jennifer 18, Swaggy C 17
Who is likely to quit?
It was a pretty easy pick who on the cast would likely quit. The only person who has quit on this list is Ashley. Ashley quit on Dirty XXX before the season really began and has threatened to quit on multiple other occasions. Ashley received 289 votes. Way behind in second place is Jennifer, one of our new rookies. I honestly don't know anything about her other than she was the first to go on The Amazing Race. Jennifer received 115 votes. Finally, in third place we have Big T. We only saw Big T for a short amount of time last season but was still willing to fight in her elimination against Georgia. The girl showed that she has some fight in her and I am wondering if she has improved since we last saw her. Big T received 103 votes. The rest are as follows: Bayleigh 102, Melissa 76, Swaggy 74, Jenna 49, Asaf 48, Josh 39, Aneesa 37, Kaycee 37, Fessy 32, Kailah 28, Jay 25, Mattie 20, Dee 15, Nany 14, Cory 11, Bear 10, Nelson 8, Rogan 8, Jenny 8, Bananas 2, Tori 1, CT 1. Jordan, Wes, and Kyle did not receive any votes.
Who is likely to be sent home (injury, illness, etc.)?
After multiple problems with her ankle, it was easy to pick Aneesa for this category. Starting in Dirty XXX, Aneesa sprained her ankle and the problem continued into one of the spin-offs. Has she fully recovered or will her ankle hold her back? Aneesa received 200 votes. The next person on our list is Big T in second place. From what I can remember, I don't believe Big T had any injuries but something must have happened for her to end up in the number 2 spot. Big T received 94 votes. Melissa is the one to end up in our third position. Last time we saw Melissa she was sent home for fighting. Now that the suspected two season ban for fighting is up, she is back and I am excited to see her back. It will be interesting to see how she acts with Kailah in the house as the both of them fighting is what got them kicked off of Final Reckoning. Melissa received 76 votes. The rest are as follows: Nelson 64, Cory 60, Bayliegh 42, Swaggy C 41, Josh 41, Jenna 39, Asaf 39, Rogan 38, Ashley 30, Dee 30, Jennifer 29, Kailah 27, Jay 24, Mattie 20, Fessy 19, Jordan 16, Kaycee 11, Kyle 10, CT 10, Wes 8, Nany 6, Bear 4, Tori 3, Jenny 2, Bananas 1
Who will have the most confessionals?
Confessionals are typically tied to length spent on the show for obvious reasons. Assuming Bananas makes it far into the season, he will have the most confessionals. Even if Bananas goes home early, he is guaranteed to have more confessionals than someone that lasts much longer in the game. Bananas managed to have 334 (56%) votes. While she never has the most confessionals, her confessionals are always top quality. Ashley had golden confessionals last season such as, "I don't think security should come in between true love." I am always excited to hear her confessionals and I am sure she will continue to make us laugh this season. Ashley received 72 (12.1%) votes. To round out our top 3 we have Wes. Wes actually had the most confessionals on War of the Worlds because he made it to the final and he is a vet that most of the fanbase loves. Unfortunately, Wes' time was cut short this past season so he didn't receive a ton of confessionals. Wes obtained 55 (9.2%) votes. The rest are as follows: Jordan 28, CT 25, Tori 23, Bear 21, Kyle 7, Nany 5, Cory 3, Big T 2, Josh 2, Dee 2, Jenna 2, Jenny 2, Aneesa 2, Rogan 2, Swaggy C 2, Fessy 1, Nelson 1, Mattie 1, Melissa 1, Asaf 1, Bayleigh 1, Jennifer 1. Jay, Kaycee, and Kailah received no votes.
Which rumored/confirmed season name did you like best?
There were a few different names that were floating around before the name was revelead. Almost 2/3 of the subreddit preferred Apocalypse. Apocalypse received 385 (63.3%) votes. In second place we have the actual name being Total Madness. Total Madness received 139 (22.9%) votes. In last place we have Battle for Independence with 84 (13.8%) votes.

And there you have it. The results for this season's survey. Feel free to discuss in the comments but please mark spoilers or they will be deleted. The season is less than a week away!

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20/06/20 Saturday - Matchday Picks

Australian Open First Round Men's Singles (WTA First Round to follow)

The Australian Open directors are getting a lot of flack, and rightfully so. Running a tournament is incredibly time-consuming as you have to fix the draw, disrespect the players health, be willfully ignorant and not mention worldwide issues that are within miles of the location, and then there is all that scheduling. I am inclined to cut them some slack though, as very few things that draw complaint and ire are black and white. The Australian Open is a HUGE source of revenue for Melbourne, and aside from aussie rules football might be one of the largest events held in the calendar year. My first inkling given the air quality being reported (1 day outside the equivalent of smoking 20 packs of cigarettes was reported on the news in towns near the fire) was that the event was in real danger of being cancelled, and while it is irresponsible to allow players to compete if they are in danger, the directors are under tremendous financial pressure to make this event happen. We all will be keeping a close eye on the players ability to dig deep in these 3/5 matches, and given the physical toll the AO has already been known to take due to the heat I expect this to be a very gritty event. For the first time in a few years I don’t think there is a clear favorite to run away with the men’s or women’s title, and that spells hungry tennis from the guys who are in the hunt. In the men’s I think Nadal, Federer, Novak, Medvedev, Tsitsipas, Khachanov, and Rublev will have a strangehold on the later rounds, with Berretini and Shapovalov being the darkhorse candidates. The women’s has Barty, Pliskova, Osaka, and a resurgent Serena (hasn’t played a top player but she improved at each event last year and there’s no reason to think she won’t be a bit calmer this year if she reaches the later stages of an event) looking to get busy on adding to their already impressive legacies, and I have to say Osaka showed a level of patience and ballstriking several times in her run at Brisbane that made her look almost unbeatable. Her backhand seems to have improved as well as she’s been able to hit sharper angles than usual which enables her to utilize the slightly unorthodox down the line pass that she hits. Fuck all that two weeks from now noise though. Let’s pick winners. I’ll be doing the WTA also and editing it in here (might make a second post if it doesn't fit due to character length), but I wanted to get this up early. Also character max (40k) doesn't let me post it all so the rest is going in the comments.
Nadal Dellien : While he should win this comfortably, this is a big fu to Nadal to play this guy in the early rounds. I often think directors place guys who Federer and Nadal and Novak are very similar to against them in the early rounds, and while this benefits Federer playing guys like Kohl and Gojo and skill players who don’t take a big toll on the bones, Nadal gets the short end of the stick playing Schwartzman and other grinders seemingly nonstop. Dellien had a lot of bettors hearts hurting with his gutsy performance against Kwon last year at the USO, and he’ll extend rallies here as much as he can. Given his preference for clay, his court positioning isn’t going to be such that Nadal will have much pressure, but he (Nadal) will have to earn all his points. Nadal in 3 annoying sets.
Delbonis Sousa : Two good dudes. Delbonis is coming off qualifying in Adelaide before losing to hometown favorite Duckworth and Sousa is coming off a disappointing loss to Vasek Pospisil where he was literally hit off the court. That is something that for a journeyman like Sousa who prides himself on making matches physical is a tough one to take, and although generally he’d be favored over Delbonis, this one may be difficult for him since he doesn’t have a lot of matches or confidence. Delbonis has top level offense when he’s serving well, and his backhand is a cannon, but this is not his best surface and he is prone to throwing in 4-5 poor points in a row. Expect this to go 4 or more sets, with Sousa’s backhand errors and Delbonis’ serving issues deciding the outcome. I’d lean Sousa.
Eubanks Gojowczyk : Eubanks qualifying for the AO is a big step for him. He has a great serve and big swings but he struggles with his movement and consistency. Gojowczyk is the guy you’d hate to play doubles with until you randomly won the tournament. He will hit the ball awkwardly into the net over and over trying to make his shots perfect, but when he’s on he can take the raquet out of anyone’s hands like a poorman’s Martin Klizan. The errors won’t help him here, as his shots don’t have to perfect against Eubanks. Given Eubanks usual status as a WC entrant, his qualifying run has to lend itself to him having a pretty good chance to win some sets here, and his serving game and Gojo’s awkward returning mean this will likely be decided in tiebreakers. It’s hard to bet against the more experienced player in Gojo, but I could see either one taking this in 4-5 sets.
Kovalik Carreno Busta : Kovalik is one of the few players to actually come back on a protected ranking and lose for a year and then gain traction. You love to see it and Marcel-Stebe is another one who seemed destined to be off the tour and then kinda got things together eventually. Kovalik has funky offense and is a solid challenger threat on clay to anyone he plays. This is the wrong first round for him. Although PCB went down fairly quickly to Lloyd Harris this past week, he finished up last year in fairly decent form after a horrendous return from injury that saw Benoit Paire use him as target practice several times, and 15-40 become his usual starting point in his service games. PCB may drop a set but barring injury his defense and consistent pace of play should be too much for Kovalik. PCB in 4
Kyrgios Sonego : “What are you gonna do, go bet on Kajeerios?” said Miguel. My friends have not been wholly supportive of my decision to bet tennis fulltime, and have not been supportive of the proper pronunciation of any of these people’s names. Further still, they think that gambling and Nick Kyrgios go anywhere near each other. They don’t. As a -700 favorite against Lorenzo Sonego, there should be no way that Nick can lose this match. He has a solid backhand, the best serve on tour when he’s motivated, and a ton of skill. Unfortunately, ignorance is bliss, and Nick is wasting his best years not training and not competing because of nothing we can blame him for. Talented athletes come and go in sport, and their burden is to find the motivation when they likely have always just been able to “turn it up” when they wanted to win. In a sport where people train outrageously hard, Nick somehow finds himself in the same position. That ability to turn it up numbs the losses. “I don’t care about this,” is a fair statement and “I could win if I wanted to” is dangerous knowledge because it means you really only do win when you want to. “What do I really want” is too tricky a question for someone as superficial as Nick and so his mental struggles on the court will likely continue. I expect Sonego to steal a set here as he has a good bit of skill and is hungry to take the next step in his ascent, but really this is players at different stages of their career, and Nick should be ready to contend for a title now. Still, if a child doesn’t want to eat their broccoli no amount of promising them it’s good for them will work. Nick in 4 or Sonego in 4 noisy whiney bitchfit sets.
Cuevas Simon : Simon played well in his one match at the ATP cup but fell quickly to Chardy, who then seemed too tired to compete against PCB a round later. This doesn’t give me much confidence, and for the past two seasons it seems like Simon is able to beat everyone one week, then about as good as a pusher can be without winning for the rest. This is a winnable match for him given Cuevas’ struggles to find consistent form on hardcourt, and his defensive prowess being his best form. Cuevas has the offense, variety, and physical ability to make hardcourt matches close against most of the top 100, but doesn’t really string the wins together as he tends to experience surges in form within matches. It won’t be lost on either of these veterans that NK likely waits in the next round and he is willing to gift anyone a win at any time. The “this is his home event he won’t disrespect it” idea would make sense but to me that just adds to the looming frustration of a loss that sits in the back of his head as he decides whether or not to give his best effort. I gotta stop talking about this guy. No pick here and I expect Simon to come through.
Uchiyama Ymer : Mikael Ymer has been the hottest player not quite on the tour for the past two months. He’s won a ton of matches on the challenger circuit and played moderately well in the nextgen cup. Uchiyama flies under the radar but is exactly the player to stretch Ymer if he makes errors. The match will be on Ymer’s raquet but you have to think how often you have been seeing Uchiyama’s name in the draws at majors and how the pressure of being the “name” player will affect Ymer’s ability to perform. Still, this is giving too much credence to Ymer’s past as an inconsistent player. His athletic ability and serve should get him through this one. Ymer in 5.
Vilella Martinez Khachanov : I love Khachanov’s game but am consistently nervous when he plays qualifiers in the early rounds. He plays such a high intensity game that he seems to bring people up to his level, and Vilella Martinez who I’ll admit I’ve never seen play has been snagging people all week in the qualifiers that he was not expected to. Can he overcome a top 20 player in his first major on tour? Likely not, but I expect him to acquit himself nicely and possible even take a set if Khachanov is still finding problems in consistency on his forehand wing. Khachanov in 3-4.
Monfils Lu : I’m assuming Lu is in on a protected ranking or something as I haven’t seen him active on tour since giving Zverev a heart attack way back when. Monfils has been equally inactive but this is one of those “Monfils looked in great form in the 1st round” matches and given Pospisil and FAA in the next two rounds Monfils should be primed for a good run here at the AO. Monfils in 3 unless he really doesn’t make an effort.
Karlovic Pospisil : The fairy godmother returns! Karlovic serving looks like a fairy granting wishes with their magic wand. I hope he wins this, but he probably won’t. Pospisil is seemingly approaching the levels that people thought he would in the past before he struggles with back injuries, and I’m still not convinced of his potential to be anything other than another Dimitrov type overrated underperforming talent, but his ballstriking is solid enough here to win the few rallies they’ll get into. Pospisil in 4 tbs.
Duckworth Bedene : This seems like one of the cheapest games of the first round, with Bedene sitting at just -160. Duckworth played well and beat Delbonis this past week, but really hasn’t been in any real matches on tour besides playing Andy Murray in one of his earlier comebacks. I get that the guy is a hometown favorite but Bedene has been a consistent challenger winner and a tour 2nd and 3rd rounder for 5 years now, and I think his serve/forehand combo are enough to maintain control of this match. Bedene in 3-4.
Gulbis FAA : Rough one for Felix to start the tournament with. Gulbis is Nick Kyrgios travelled back in time to warn him to make an effort, but instead he noticed the tour hadn’t really progressed that far and just hopped into qualifying. Gulbis marching easily through qualifying is tough for any first round opponent since his height and power make him able to hold serve at the end of sets when the qualifiers offense is supposed to falter. FAA had a rough patch at the end of 2019 but got it together after the FAA cup and was hitting with excellent length in his loss against Rublev this week. With Rublev pegged as a future #1 by John McEnroe last year, this is a good sign that FAA should have a decent Australian Open. What we’re all expecting though is the dominant 3 set future #1 beating from FAA and I’m not sure if it will go that simply. FAA in 5 or fewer if he’s able to win the tiebreakers.
Fritz Griekspoor : I don’t even think given some of Fritz’ past performances that he should be favored in this matchup. Griekspoor has a big game, a great compact serve, and is in form on these courts after coming through qualifying. Fritz will need to come out early with solid serving in order to put some doubt in Talon’s mind. The “working your way into the match” pushing the backhand into play bs that Fritz falls into will have this one going 5 sets before he knows it and guess which player has been playing more tennis recently (it isn’t Fritz). Man I do not like the US strategy of awarding WCs nonstop to players who don’t win and I think it has poisoned Fritz and Tiafoe and a few others who have the game to compete but lack the killer instinct. Griekspoor in 4.
Ivashka Anderson : Unfortunate for Ivashka to pull a better version of himself. Ivashka boast a big serve and forehand and unlike many big men can play defense and hang in a rally. Anderson has been very inactive but is a better version of this. While his losses can be bizarre (Pella dispatching him in straights) he did fairly well at the ATP Cup against a hapless Christian Garin and should be a solid favorite to come through here. In the past I’ve been guilty of backing Ivashka against the questionable tour names like Monfils which is a fun sweat but hasn’t produced any dollars, so this time I will sit quietly. Anderson in 4-5.
Bolt ARV : If it’s tennis in Australia, Alexander Bolt seems to be up for the task. A consistent qualifier and performer in the early 250 events, Bolt is a high energy player with a big serve and a compact backhand. This is not a great matchup for him, as ARV was hit off the court by Tommy Paul but first beat Munar and Thompson, two guys who don’t make many errors and try to push the pace. ARV looked rock solid against both and didn’t make many errors. I do believe he brings a level of defense that will stifle Bolt’s offense, and him being lefty is going to negate some of Bolt’s advantages. ARV in 3-4.
Mannarino Thiem : I forgot about Thiem when I was writing the intro. His hardcourt game has progressed and in my opinion he’s the most skilled player on tour right now outside the big 3. “Mannarino is a tricky lefty” I’m tired of writing that. Mannarino doesn’t beat guys with power, and mostly pushes the ball onto the backhand wing, which is the wrong strategy against Thiem. Thiem in 3 and Mannarino falls down at least once from the weight of shot.
Medvedev Tiafoe : Great. Medvedev who works hard and plays consistent and doesn’t bail out of volleys and takes his losses quietly against an overrated dude with an enabling camp. I am so disappointed in Tiafoe’s lack of progress and his immediate willingness to fistpump anytime anything goes right. Is there still no one in his camp that will tell him that consistent level of play is what wins on tour, not shots. Look at Benoit Paire who is supremely talented and hits 30+ winners per match but always finds himself in deciding sets. Tiafoe has really no chance here, and it’s sad because had he spent his time earning his way on tour rather than being gifted it, he would be able to compete at this level already. He’s one of the best athletes on tour with one of the worst perspectives. Medvedev in 3.
Koepfer Martinez : Pedro Martinez qualifying on hardcourt is pretty damn impressive to me, and he has a guy who just spent a year doing some impressive qualifying. I’m glad Koepfer gets his first direct entry into a major, and he should have an advantage here, after his main struggle in majors being fatigue in early rounds after pushing to get through the qualifying. Martinez has the game to take a set here and Koepfer’s height means he has to play every point a bit harder than most guys, but he should have the consistency to muscle through, and his lefty offense is legit. Koepfer in 4-5.
Gaston Munar : Gaston is the French selection for the WC into this event, and he will go up against one of the more difficult defensive tests on the tour. Munar doesn’t give up much, and is constantly improving. Gaston is getting acclimated to the challenger tour and isn’t quite there yet, but this will be good experience for him and hopefully he’ll earn his way there in the future. Munar in 3.
Popyrin Tsonga : Popyrin was an early round terror for a lot of people in 2019. 2020 has been a middling but brief start for him but he seems to be in good form. Tsonga has played one event and was quickly dismissed by Kecmanovic. This means very little as Tsonga is prone to not giving his best effort at 250 level events, and really has excelled mostly on the indoor tour and any event located in France. Family life and the 2nd half of his career may have taken a toll on Tsonga’s commitment to fitness, and that makes this match a question mark. Tsonga has the offense to take this match over, and the experience plus name to have this be a mental battle for Popyrin if he gets close to the finish line. Impossible to predict this one, but it’s hard to see either player winning in straight sets. Tsonga in 4-5 if he’s fit and Popyrin in 4 if he’s fat.
Isner Monteiro : Monteiro’s impact has been absent on the hardcourt tour for a while now, and it was interesting to see him come through qualifying and beat Norrie before falling to Paire. The loss to Paire seems like one he’d want back but Paire played some of his best tennis ever last week in his finals run. Monteiro gets a bonus in this matchup as he’ll have an easier time holding serve than he would against the rest of the tour, but Isner had a good time in Adelaide and got his serve going for a few matches. Generally when he is in form, his matches include tiebreakers and tiebreakers against Isner are as exhausting to play as they are boring to watch. Isner not being able to hit his backhand into the court is about the same as NBA players not being able to sink a free throw. I know he’s a bigman and bigman tennis and fearhand and all the dumb excuses Tennis Channel makes for him, but get Gimelstob out of your box, fix your swing on the backhand wing, and try to be more than just a guy who ruins draws. Isner in 4. I’m not sure why I suddenly got angry at Isner at the end of that, but I’m not taking it back.
Tabilo Galan : It always amazes me when I see guys like Coric and Querrey playing first round that they allow qualifiers to play each other. To be fair, they usually play into a bad section of the draw, but the increased prize money makes it seem like an awesome shot for the guys who land in that section. Tabilo is a good player from Chile and none of you have seen him play. I also have not seen him play, but recent results playing close with Luke Saville and Marc Polmans, coupled with his win over Stakhovsky suggest he’s on the cusp of making the tour. Galan on the other hand is a year ahead of him, and did some very impressive qualifying last year. He has that niche factor of never being out of a match regardless of the score, and pushes the pace with his forehand and hits with range which can be difficult for some players to adjust to. His game reminds me a bit of Joao Sousa, and I lean towards his experience, but have no real way to suggest who will win this match.
Kecmanovic Seppi : After a disappointing injury led to his US Open exit, Kecmanovic has to be all kinds of fired up to get back into a major event. This kind of speculative thinking leads to a lot of poor wagers as people back guys in “comeback games” against their old teams or “revenge matches” after prior losses. Seppi is a very tricky opponent who is as accurate as he is calm. He doesn’t have the power to really hit through Kecmanovic’s defense but he has the experience to get deep in sets and his ease of pulling the trigger on what he considers the right shot regardless of the situation can make him dangerous once he gets there. Kecmanovic is likely going to be able to take advantage of Seppi’s spot serving with his movement and should wrap this one up in 4. Kecmanovic in 4.
Dzumhur Wawrinka : Dzumhur has looked good the past two weeks in the events he played on the challenger tour and in Qatar, but this is the perfect matchup for Wawrinka to begin his run. Wawrinka managed to be frontpage on the AO page after one of my associates texted me excited about taking a Wawrinka future at 50/1, which means to me he is in immediate peril. Stan has been improving every match he’s played since his return to the tour, and although it’s been a while, that just means he’s still trying to get back to the top of the tour. Dzumhur has to produce a great deal of variety to win on tour given his lack of physical dominance, and while his skill is brilliant, at times his errors and demeanor is as well. I don’t really see him winning a lot of baseline rallies, so this will likely come down to who is able to hold serve easier. That should be Stan, and I think he comes through here with at least one hiccough. Wawrinka in 4.
Goffin Chardy : I swear these guys have played each other like 10 times in the first round at majors, but Wimbledon and Roland Garros are the only spots they’ve met with a straight set victory going to Chardy on clay and Goffin on grass. Chardy looked bad last week against PCB after a decent win over countryman Simon, but he is a dangerous player in the first round of any event. He sometimes lacks the timing and with his very smooth oldschool game it’s important to minimize errors in today’s compact game. Goffin is in good form again after a lonnnnnnnng return from eye problems that started to look like he’d never get it together again. His serve can become ineffective at times and i’m hesitant to cite weather but I believe Goffin will have the easier time competing in the smoky heat of Melbourne. Still, it’s difficult to put out a guy who can play the kind of flawless offense that Jeremy can, so I’d expect Goffin in 4.
Herbert Norrie : This is a nice matchup of two guys on tour everyone expects to beat but nobody wants to play. Herbert is an upset threat in any 2/3 match and his variety/skill stemming from his years dominating doubles actually make him able to compete with a higher quality of opponent than his results would suggest. Norrie is somehow the opposite. His simple game and preference for the grind make him struggle with pretty much every opponent he plays. I really think the flat backhand/topspin forehand combination is a bad one as his opponents can choose which ball they’re better capable of defending when they’re on defense. Herbert unfortunately won’t be the underdog here, and that makes it somewhat more difficult to back him. Norrie plays a low-risk low-reward game, but in a 3/5 format the grind can often be rewarded when one player is looking to play a skilled game and the other guy is bunting the ball back to you and making british noises. I don’t think either player can run away with this one, but I hope Herbert does. Herbert in 5.
Sugita Benchetrit : A lotta qualifiers are going to be squinting at this spot in the draw thinking at what could have been. Sugita can win the matches you count him out of, and it’s easy to overlook his consistency on tour over time due to his lack of marquee wins. Benchetrit pulled upset after upset to come through qualifying and that form makes him about even money in my mind to win this one. Sugita is a challenger tour journeyman and is used to competing with these guys, but somehow these two haven’t met. The winner meets Rublev, so I’m not going to put too much thought into this one. Sugita in 4-5.
Rublev O’Connell : This is unfortunate for O’Connell to be playing the hottest player on tour right now. Rublev is also playing some good ball. I spent 2019 making fun of Rublev’s appearance, but I’ll spend 2020 backing him to win tennis matches. Back to back titles and McEnroe stating that he thought he was a future #1 about a year and a half ago have me starting to believe. In the past he’d cough up errors when pressed defensively, but he came up with the answer in the past week every time he was pressed, utilizing some skill that many had not seen before (a few onehanded slice passes and some beautiful two handed lobs). The second serve is a liability as he tends to just spin it in but until he plays a top-tier returner of Benoit freakin Paire he will do fine behind it as he’s one of the best baseliners on tour. O’Connell has been the most consistent player on the challenger tour in the past year and if you watch this match you’re going to hear about how he worked on a fishing boat and now it’s a feelgood story. He has a smooth onehanded backhand and just keeps hitting the court until people fold. The key to beating him has been absurd power and that’s where Rublev (barring fatigue or injury) will end his tournament. Rublev in 3.
Basilashvili Kwon : Kwon getting to play in the Kooyong exhibition matches was an interesting choice for a guy who is usually grinding it out. I actually like it because the more comfortable he is on court with the tour players the quicker he will ground himself. Kwon has a very nice game and really doesn’t miss off the backhand wing that much. He tends to get behind the baseline a bit given his speed and this is a problem against Basilashvili, who hits the ball past people sitting in the crowd. Basilashvili has been known to tie himself to a ball with string and just hit the ball to his next event destination for free airfare. I do not think there is a harder hitter on tour right now. With a middling ATP Cup, he’ll have trouble here with Kwon. Kwon moves the ball around and is a fake-test. If Basilashvili makes errors, he’ll lose this match. That’s fairly straightforward. With the momentum though it’ll be difficult for Kwon to serve this one out as he hits his spots nicely at times but doesn’t exactly get to 40-0 often. Someone in 5 and if Basilashvili comes through easily he’ll be in good shape to best Verdasco in the next round.
Verdasco Donskoy : Donskoy managed to get got in qualifying, and while normally Verdasco is a flight-risk from any match, he turned in a good effort in Doha and should be poised to win this one. Lucky loser entrants have a beautiful history of destroying higher ranked players, and Donskoy possesses a flat yet big offense, but I don’t think fresh Verdasco isn’t going to find a way to win 3/5 sets of tennis. Verdasco in 3-4.
Ruud Gerasimov : Casper Ruud is always a threat to become great. His game seems complete, and when he wins it looks like he’s the next big thing. I think his ceiling is either 40-50, or several years in the future, as this match has me thinking Gerasimov is going to win. A big server with a heap of wins over the past year, the fast courts of Melbourne are going to be decent for his chances here. This is a good spot in the draw with Zverev waiting and his early history in majors present in a players mind, and it’s difficult to gauge how effective Ruud’s game will be on a given day. Being the frontrunner in tennis honestly seems to be a hump for all these guys, and so I think this one will be tight. If Ruud wins in 3 I’ll back him against Zverev. If Gerasimov wins, I think he’ll cover a handicap against Zverev.
Zverev Cecchinato : Zverev has to be glad to get one of the tour’s most notable hardcourt strugglers in his first round. Cecchinato hits big but makes errors off of routine balls, and his frustrations are so well-known at this point that even TC announcers mention them. I don’t think he’ll be able to turn around his game against Zverev, and even though Zverev gives up at the slightest hint of adversity, he shouldn’t have much here. Zverev in 3-4. See you in South America, Marco.
Berretini Harris : This is the other Harris. A nice enough player, this WC will be seen on tour more in the future, but in this one he’ll just be seen playing defense. Defense, which, thus far, only the big 3 have really proved effective at against Berretini’s forehand. I’m excited to see how his backhand improves over the course of this year, as if it does he’ll become a threat to win majors.
Sandgren Trungelliti : This is a strange matchup with Sandgren really not making the best effort in some matches and losing, and also making a great effort in some matches and not being rewarded with the W against some lesser players. Trungelliti isn’t likely to give this one away, and I have to say that although Sandgren steps it up in majors, he is at risk here. He’s fat(for professional tennis). It’s hot. Trungelliti in 4.
RCB Berankis : This is an interesting match no one will watch. I won’t watch it either. Maybe this match is not interesting. RCB and Berankis should be out there for hours, and although I’ve seen Ricardas look dominant from the baseline, RCB doesn’t really go away. Someone in 5.
Querrey Coric : These two have had similar stories, with big successes being followed up by somewhat disappointing years. Querrey struggles to find the court in rallies and gets outworked when he’s not thumping aces, and Coric attempts to outwork his opponents but can’t stop hitting the tape long enough to do so. This is a rough first round for both of them as their opponent tests their weaknesses. Querrey is likely the player in better form right now, as he played moderate decent in Adelaide before getting dismissed by Rublev. If this is on an outer court Coric has a better chance as serving is generally more difficult and conditions are more windy. I’m already cringing thinking about Berankis somehow beating RCB and then Coric, but I’m not going to pick Coric here until he displays the form he did in 2017. Querrey in 4-5.
Pella Smith : Pella just shouldn’t lose this match. Smith is another of a good crop of Aussie tennis players, but I don’t think he would have come through qualifying and I don’t think he’ll hit through Pella’s defenses. Pella is coming off good practice competing in the ATP cup, and should wrap this one up in 3.
Safwat Barrere : Safwat won the last few rounds of qualifying as and underdog, and now gets rewarded by playing the king of 2019 qualifying. Barrere moves the ball around beautifully, and like other french players the score does not affect the shot selection which is great to see. His strength is holding serve, and it should be his edge in this matchup. Safwat scares me because he’s one of the players in the draw I actually haven’t watched a lot, but this is a matchup of a challenger threat vs a tour threat and I think Barrere will solidify his place on tour with a win here. Barrere in 4-5.
Thompson Bublik : Thompson plays tennis like he really wants to be on tour. Bublik plays tennis like he really wants to embarrass the tour. This is another good matchup of conflicting styles as Thompson will take every single point you give away and Bublik will constantly make his opponent uncomfortable. Bublik’s T serve is brilliant and his game at net continues to improve. He’ll definitely frustrate Thompson who in the past has had trouble finding the pass against serve and volleyers, and although he hasn’t been that active recently, Bublik’s top gear is better than Thompson’s. It’s difficult to find that top gear for a full match to I expect this one to go back and forth a bit. Bublik in 5.
Opelka Fognini : Fognini is likely to take this one well. Opelka is the perfect storm of physical ability and flailing. Fognini doesn’t want a single hair out of place and won’t swing at a ball unless it’s a testament to skill and beauty. Fognini has shown in 2019 that he is not done winning on tour, and although he is prone to mope at any moment, he has competed well. Opelka seems to show improvement in the rally but still coughs up the errors. I don’t think Fognini will find 3 full sets of breaks of serve here, and Opelka might by virtue of Fognini feeling the pressure and also Fognini feeling the anguish of possibly losing to a flailer. Opelka in 4-5 tiebreakers.
Shapovalov Fucsovics : Marton can’t catch a break. A former junior standout, Fucsovics works harder on his fitness than most teenagers work on their snapchat streaks. His reward is often playing the best players on tour and competing hard in a loss. A year ago Fucsovics was not quite as good. A year ago though Shapov (name’s too long that’s all you get) would have been error prone enough to lose this match outright. I saw great things from him in his ATP Cup matches, and he looks a bit physically stronger this year which is a bonus because bless his heart he has puppy dog brains. Fucs (i’m running out of gas) is prone to getting slicehappy on his backhand, and that complacency works right into Shap’s (even more lazy) gameplan as he hits most of his forehands crosscourt and works best starting point from there. Sha in 4.
Sinner Purcell : This one is interesting as Sinner will be looking to nab some tour names this year, but Purcell is not one of those names, yet is a quality player. The hopeful in me wants Purcell to compete here, but I don’t think Sinner is actually an overhyped talent. He hits very big, applies constant pressure, and although there are similarities to the Zverev that lost match point to Nadal, Sinner has no real serving issues. Sinner in 3-4.
Mayer Paul : Tommy Paul had the best beginning to this season for unproven commodities, not only winning a few matches but also being predicted to do so by the books. He’s serving well, hitting with great pace, and is a pretty solid athlete which make him a threat when he keeps the ball on the court. Mayer is supposedly a clay specialist, but his hardcourt game is solid and he hits and serves big. I expect this to be a high level match but having seen some recent struggle from Mayer against guys playing a slight cut below Paul (Monteiro/Cecchinato), I actually expect Mayer to lose here. Paul in 4-5.
Londero Dimitrov : Good. I always hope for Dimitrov to get it together and here is an opponent that will force him to. Dimitrov is the better player and has more talent, but Londero wants to win. He’ll push the pace and he has legitimate offense that will force Dimitrov to play defense and hopefully keep the ball on the court. Londero isn’t really best on hardcourt by a longshot but he has proven that he’s willing to improve and compete, and that’s big against an idiot parade like Dimitrov. Dimitrov in 4-5.
Hurkacz Novak : This is pretty unfortunate for Novak who has been in great form this January. Hurkacz has been in finer form, and while Novak is a hardnose opponent unlikely to give up, Hurkacz has the bigger weapons and should be able to have an edge in this one. Still, given Novak’s form I doubt it will be straight sets. Hurkacz in 4.
Milman Umbert : This is an interesting matchup given Humbert’s title run, and Milman’s relatively good form against Paire who played lights out tennis. Milman has one shot, and it’s his forehand crosscourt. Humbert’s backhand isn’t the pinnacle of consistency, and his backhand let him down against Ymer in the nextgen cup so it could happen again. Milman will make this match physical, and while Humbert is capable of playing crisp enough offense to take the raquet out of his opponents hands, it’s in his best interest to do so here, as Milman will have a tremendous amount of home support out on Court 3. A stadium crowd is one thing, but a smaller stage can get raucous and frustrating, and Humbert’s main risk is momentum. Still, I think he’s at a point where this will likely be a gutsy performance from Milman and an Humbert win. Humbert in 4-5.
Halys Krajinovic : I’ve never watched Halys play tennis, and it’s important to note that in case anyone thinks I know what I’m talking about. I want to say that Kraj has this in the bag since he is a rocksolid tour player, but he’s tossed in some terrible performances. Probably Krajinovic in 3, or Halys in 5.

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the whole situation where a “popular” student asks disabled or handicap student to a school dance should not be on the news.

A story of timing, luck and degeneracy