What Happens in Vegas...
This guy double fisting a beer and a coffee while sweating the Scottish Open in a Vegas sportsbook at 9:30 a.m. is the king of all kings
Why do we do it? Chances are if you bet golf (and chances are that you do), you’ve asked yourself this very question. You could save yourself the gray hairs, jelly legs, sweaty foreheads, and bank-account bruises if you just deleted your betting app, turned off the TV, and went outside for a walk. So we’ll ask again: Why do we do it?
Because of this hero, that’s why.
Each and every day, we get up, put on pants, and throw money at J.T. Poston (not necessarily in that order). But we don’t do it for ourselves. We don’t do it to get rich or for our 15 minutes of Twitter fame when a big parlay finally cashes. We do it in solidarity with our brothers and sisters chasing the hair of the dog with a Venti red eye while riding solo in a Vegas sportsbook at 9:30 a.m., hoping against hope that that Tringale first-round leader will cash.
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So cheers to this warrior, this martyr, this fellow member of the country club known as Earth. One day, he will cast his last ticket. That day could even be today. But his legend will live on forever, win or lose.