The takes are free. Always unwarranted. Any comments, questions or concerns, come see these tweets @hefadesme
I let you all down yesterday with some awful selections. Investments. I posted a picture from both of my local accounts on twitter for the haters that will say I’m a mush. Seems whenever I post plays for the fading faithful I let you down. A lot of my investments happen live, and I am going to focus on finding an easy way that won’t ruin my chances with my future ex wife, so that you all can make money with me.
I’m on some EPL overs this morning if you have an itch, DM me. Hopefully, you tailed Branded Bets, because I’m pretty sure they were 4-1.
This post will infuriate most of the Branded faithful. But I don’t blog to lie. I don’t do this so that I can make millions. I do it for you all clicking the tab and reading the content. For those concerned, I work for a company that is privately held by Blackstone, since some dickbag yesterday questioned my employment.
A few weeks ago, the executives at this company decided to reward me for my hard work. Vegas is actually a culinary haven. So many delicious options, even off of the strip so you don’t have to break the bank. *Side note: It should always be the general rule to tip when out to dinner or at a bar. If you don’t tip, you’re a piece of shit. In fact, if you hang out with folks that don’t lay at least 20% down, you need new friends. When in Vegas, always tip more and you will be shown an entirely new version of “service.” Kraftjobs may or may not be included.
So the option was up to me on where to go. Initially, I wanted to go to Eataly (one of 5 locations in the US) at MGM, but there really isn’t a place to sit and eat so I could listen to the C-suite verbally fellate me over my accomplishments. I was told the sky is the limit, so I started doing my research.
Things people tell you about Vegas: gambling, the mob, hot in the summer, dry, legalized prostitution if the population of your county is under 700k -every county in Vegas is sub 700k.
Things people don’t tell you about Vegas: cold as heck in the winter, windy, there is a monsoon season, has some of the best steakhouses in America.
Does it get more American, than watching football, smoking a cigar, eating a medium rare steak (any steak cooked longer and you’re a confirmed serial killer), drinking a whiskey, and watching a beautiful woman work off her med school debt while dancing on a pole? I think not.
I decided against going to my favorite gentleman’s club (The Rhino) and chose Bavette’s steakhouse. No big deal to me. What’s a $100 steak on the company dime?
While waiting to be seated, we had a few drinks at the bar. Nothing crazy, but these fellas next to us were having a good time. They looked a little out of place. Don’t get me wrong, I grew up in Philadelphia. I have friends that are blue collared guys. Nothing wrong with that, but this place is a suit and tie event, and these guys were in polos and jeans.
So curiosity consumed me and I struck up a conversation. These fellas were ironworkers building the new stadium for the Raiders. As a football junkie, this peaked my interest. For those that don’t know, they are building the stadium behind Mandalay Bay, the casino where that fucking lunatic shot up the country concert. That was actually my first night in Vegas, but I’m getting off track.
Turns out, these fellas played collegiate baseball for some small school in Colorado, but they grew up with Bryce Harper on the diamond, and work with his father, Ron, and talk shop with him, regularly.
They had no idea I was from Philadelphia. There was no motivation to give me misinformation.
“Bryce wants to be closer to his family. He doesn’t want to take a 5 hour flight to see them. He could live in Vegas and go play ball in Cali and take a helicopter there for home games and be there in a few hours.”
My heart sunk, but I took the bait.
“Where in Cali do you think he ends up,” I asked like a child that had just heard Santa Claus wasn’t real.
“LA.”
I was devastated. One of the executives asked me if I had too much to drink because my face was whiter than that fat guy on Sea Isle’s beach on Memorial Day Weekend.
I thought about my Phillies o86.5 win total, but second because I couldn’t believe Harper would turn down $300 million just for convenient travel. He’s turning down one of the hottest sports markets in the country just to be closer to his Bishop and LDS ward. I thought, “Listen Bryce, you’re still going to get your planet next to Kolob when you die. Don’t turn down this money just to be close to home.”
If your local book will still offer action on where he ends up, go check it out. The Dodgers are currently -150 to land Harper. Multiple reports are saying that the two parties are close to striking a deal. It isn’t about money, it’s about being close to paw-paw.
The rest of the night was ruined. I didn’t care about my $100 steak. I didn’t care that the Eagles won the Super Bowl a year before. Those nights in 2008 were some of the best ever -and I spent the first half of game 5 in CBP jail for trying to sneak into the game. When we won, I’ll never forget driving down Broad St. sitting outside of my buddies sunroof, drinking a case of Yuengling, tossing beers to cops, getting pulled over and the cop saying “If this car isn’t still here by Monday, I’ll come arrest all of you for DUI.” This was easily a top 2 and not 2 time in my life, considering it was my first year in college at Temple.
We just can’t have nice things, can we, Philly?
