Seoul Is lovely this time of year. Clear skies, pleasant weather, and  stunning fall foliage. Meanwhile, some 69,000 miles away in Texas I find myself sweating an unexpected stunner. A few hours earlier, I was riding high, cashing bets on the underdogs playing on their home turf in the MLB postseason. Hungry for more action fueled by reckless confidence and booze I turn my attention to the Korean Open looking for some soft lines. I find one I like: Claire Liu vs Arantxa Rus.I know a lock when I see one.

I placed a healthy wager on the obvious favorite. the dutchwoman Arantxa Rus -115 LFG! 


The initial set was a breeze as Rus clinched it with a convincing 6-1 victory. Getting the play by play via phone I decided to put it on TV  and watch the bet cash live. As soon as I started watching the gambling God's decided to start throwing heat my way. I witness my girl Rus staggering off the court and urgently calling for a medic. 

As the medic tapes her ankle my anxiety surged. I’m  pacing my living room, attempting to convince myself that she, being a professional, could handle the situation. And if she can't, I can take the loss. Eventually she returns to the court, only to face a crushing defeat in the second set. The third set commenced, but she couldn't finish And Liu takes the victory

My anxiety has transformed into remorse, then into an overwhelming, uncontrollable rage. In an attempt to redirect my anger and frustration, I step back and fixate all my negative emotions on Claire Liu. In my mind, she's to blame. She should be bagging groceries not advancing to the next round in the Korean Open. 

I've decided to stake my mortgage on her next opponent.