Since 2009, the Ravens and Patriots have battled at Gillette Stadium five times, scoring an average of 44.4 points per contest. So with the over/under set at 47.5 for this Saturday’s Divisional Round playoff game, I’m going to throw 50 clams on the under, and that sucks.
Betting the under means that instead of cheering for Flacco to Smith (either of them) for a 44-yard touchdown, I’ll be the asshole fist pumping when Justin Forsett runs for two yards on 3rd-and-4. Instead of getting a chub every time Gronk runs over two Ravens for a tuddy, I’ll be going nuts when Ryan Allen pins the Ravens inside their own 6-yard line.
Hating Great Plays
Every time somebody makes an unbelievable one-handed grab near the sideline, I’ll be praying that the bastard only got one foot down or didn’t maintain possession all the way through. If somebody catches an 80-yard bomb for a touchdown, I’ll be looking for that box in the upper left to turn yellow in hopes that a flag will call it back.
Basically, it’ll feel like I’m rooting for the Antichrist.
Betting the under is a lot like going on a hike with a Scoutmaster: you’re nervous the entire time until it’s over. Take last week’s Ravens game for example. Just when you thought that 30-15 score was going to be the final, some asshole blocks a punt with less than two minutes remaining and it goes out the back of the end zone for a safety, meaning your bet of “under 46.5” was all of sudden the equivalent of a Goo Goo Dolls album: pure dog shit.
Is It Worth It?
Sure, betting the under this Saturday is probably the smart bet, but bettors beware. Until those final seconds tick off the game clock, it’ll probably be the worst three hours of your life. Well, unless of course your wife once dragged you to a performance of Phantom of the Opera. Nothing is worse than that shit…