Since it’s Christmas, let’s get the Grinch cynicism out of the way. Most days of the year, any given bitter soul could write this piece about this unfathomably lucky soul and be all negative about it.
Say things like, “This is the type of moon shot, beyond once-in-a-lifetime hit of a bet that inspires false hope across the world and leads countless Average Joes to plunge dead-end wagers into parlays that have zero chance of hitting while sportsbooks cackle their way to the bank.”
Yeah well guess what, defeated, jaded alter ego who I refuse to even claim in this moment? Sometimes, cliches aren’t true. Sometimes, Christmas miracles happen. The house DOESN’T always win, motherf***er!
Case in point: THIS GUY. BEHOLD! BEHOLD MAN IN HIS FINEST HOUR!
This f***ing guy. To their credit DraftKings was a hell of a sport about losing a cool half a mill on a holiday rife with positivity. How else do you react on your public social media account, though? Not like you’re gonna drag the man for his wildly good fortune.
I can’t even articulate how “good” of fortune this is, though. Like, what? To hit a 14-leg parlay of anytime touchdown scorers? In the insanely unpredictable NFL, where soon-to-be-39-year-old Joe Flacco hops off the couch, goes to a division rival of the team he led to a Super Bowl, and thrives as the Browns’ fourth starting quarterback of the season?
It’s beyond. It’s beyond reason. It’s beyond everything. ICYMI: San Francisco 49ers running back Christian McCaffrey was the last man among 14 this long holiday weekend who needed to find the end zone for this man to make almost five-hundred grand. Here’s the highlight, as CMC barely managed to cross the goal line:
Yours truly has a future on McCaffrey for MVP. Unfortunately, his QB, Brock Purdy, sh*t the bed with four interceptions as of this writing — game still not over, WOW buddy! — and therefore somehow Lamar Jackson will win his second MVP even though he did this on the very same evening LMAO the NFL is piss-hammered-drunk on eggnog:
Anyone have the “First Score: Safety” prop for +100000000 or so odds? I’m merely asking, because after all, we just saw $5 turn into over $489,000.
This fourteen–leg parlay hitting — again, seriously, WTF???? — is like as long as the odds were of evolution culminating in modern humankind and society. OK maybe not that long. But in essence, the odds are actually, in whole-number fractional form, 244,689/25. Or: 9,788.56-to-1.
Dude in the Santa suit was going full Han Solo into the asteroid field when he let that baby fly.
But seriously, a Santa outfit? Really? I know it’s Christmas, Faux Saint Nick. Guess what? You ain’t giving gifts. You are STEALING from the bookies! To be clear, not trying to give you a hard time. Hold on to as much of that dough as you can — and don’t apologize for it! We aren’t guilt-tripping here in the slightest. Uncle Sam is gonna take a handsome chunk out of that payout, rest assured.
In spite of the hefty pending taxation without genuine representation, just remember this, my man: You still won BIG. You still stuck it to the man. You stood proud amid (I presume) countless rejected $5 parlays with astronomical odds over the years. You persevered.
That is true grit. That is the American Dream. Wholehearted congratulations, Unidentified Santa, for getting such a huge haul from the house for all of us who’ve lost so much. I salute you, sir.
One request, if I may, for the winner basking in the spoils: Please dial into DraftKings customer service and just go OFF like:
