The Second Annual Kiss of Death Invitational came from humble beginnings.  Just in case you are not familiar with the "Kiss of Death Invitational," I will give you the back story to this monumental event of epic proportions.  It all started, years ago, with my bookie, Guido, and me.  After I had taken a beating that would make the Tyson fights of the early 90's look like a fight between two over-caffeinated 12 year-old girls at a Hannah Montana concert fighting over who is cuter, Joe Jonas or Nick Jonas.  (Actually, that could get pretty bad.  Maybe I could have found a better comparison.  Anyway you get the idea.)   Guido said that some of the teams that I picked shouldn't have lost.  I said "Tell me about!  It seems that if it weren't for bad luck, I wouldn't have any at all."  Guido then reminded me that if I didn't have his money by Wednesday at 12:00 PM, then the beating I took over the games will look like a walk on the beach compared to the beating I was going to get from him.  I thanked him for being so supportive and a true friend.

The next week of games showed me no mercy.  It was as if I was the best prognosticator in Bizzaroland.  It was one of those colossal weeks where you have to say to your self "When did I get the idea that laying money down on games that I pick was a good idea?"  Yeah, I'm having fun now!  As much as I complained to Guido, he should have sent me a therapy bill.  I was finally wearing him down a bit.  I believe that he may have been starting to feel sorry for me, if only he had feelings.

Week after week, if I went only one or two games under .500, I saw it as a success.  Then it happened, the week that changed my life forever.  The unthinkable happened.  What every sports gambler is always thinking of, but never speaks about.  The ever dreaded "O'fer."  Granted it was a light week of games, but I missed on every single one.  I should have been more embarrassed, but I was kind of proud.  I mean, my friends actually know someone who picked more that 5 games and went O fer.  I forget the exact number (yeah right) but I will tell you it was more than 5 and less than 13.  12 there!  Are you happy? 

Anyway, while I was on the couch with Guido we both came to a realization that my luck was so bad that I was actually affecting the outcome on some of these games.  Could that be?  Was it even possible?  My picks were contributing to the end result of these games.  It seemed logical.  The odds of going 0-12 in football betting have to rival that of getting 5 out of 6 numbers on a Lotto ticket, right?  

From that week on, I was asked my opinion on upcoming games by Guido himself.  I was a bit surprised, but I like to talk so I obliged him.  I went into the things I take into consideration when making a pick.  I would go on about how some stats are for chumps like conference rival records, injuries, and short-week preparations.  

After a while, my curiosity got the best of me and I had to ask Guido why on Earth he was asking me my opinion.  Then, he said it.  I can still hear his words echoing out of the telephone into my ears where my brain interpreted the tympanic reverberations.  He said "You are the most consistent player I have.  Everything you bet on goes south faster than a flock of geese in December."  "When I am unsure of a game, I just ask you and go the other way."  "You are the Kiss of Death to any team you bet."