Doug Blough

Now that all the hoopla of boring Christmas is over, it truly is the best time of the year. Yes, four bet-shopping days left till Super Bowl. So have a holly, jolly Super Bowl, the best time of the year, and in case you didn't hear; oh by golly, have a holly, jolly, Super Bowl this year.

Ah, the precious memories of Super Bowls past. I'm dreaming of a white Super Bowl, just like the ones I used to know; where the end zones glisten, and calls the refs are missin', with fourth down and just a yard to go.

I didn't follow football till well after high school, when I saw a hard-boiled lookin' guy leaning on the pinball machine at the Hollsopple, Pennsylvania VFW. I asked why he was so popular and learned that man was Spike the bookie and everyone was placing their bets. I made my first wager on the Broncos/Cowboys Super Bowl of '79 and the rest is a costly history.

Sure, I lost that one by taking the Orange Crush, but not all my gambling stories end up with me borrowing money from family members. There would be another Broncos Super Bowl in the late 90s when just before the game, I got on the blower to my offshore gambling establishment and bet $50 that little-used fullback Howard Griffith would score the first touchdown at 24-to-1 odds. Super stud RB Terrell Davis, who scored the majority of their TDs, had apparently scored this game's first minutes into the game, but thank the gambling gods for instant replay determining Davis had landed inches short.

Imagine my unbridled elation when on the next play, Elway handed off to Griffith, who bulled his way in and won me $1,200 in a matter of seconds. I was so excited, my cat walked by with her tail raised and I kissed her right on the keester. It was a joyous day at the Musty Manor.

That TD, along with several hundred I won on the Broncos made for a holly, jolly Super Bowl, but barely comparable to one about 10 years later, months after my sister Wanda died. Stop me if you've heard this one, but I wasn't even betting football that year in late 2005 — too preoccupied with praying for Wanda's deliverance. I was on the couch in deep thought about her weeks after she passed, when suddenly a subliminal thought emerged ... “Steelers win Super Bowl.”

Now, this was before the playoffs even started, and the Steelers were a wild card with little chance given of advancing. But I knew what I had heard, so sent $200 offshore and bet $100 on the Steelers to win it all 20-to-1 odds. Wanda hated my gambling addiction and wasn't into sports, but when it came to our hometown Steelers, she was a rabid fan.

You can google details of the epic run through those '05 playoffs, but suffice to say my Steelers won games aided by the most unlikely circumstances. Bad referee calls and lucky bounces all landed right in my lap. And then the big day came when the Steelers met the Seattle Seahawks in the super game. Soon before it started, almost like one last gift placed under my tree, another strange revelation told me running back Willie Parker would score a touchdown. I bet my remaining $100 on that very scenario at almost 3-to-1.

Again every lucky bounce and fluke circumstance went Pittsburgh's way, and just after halftime, my man Willie Parker busted through the line and raced 75 yards to pay-dirt. When the super dust cleared and all my gifts were unwrapped, the Steelers were 21-10 winners and I was $2,290 richer. Wanda had given me one last gift from heaven and no one will ever convince me otherwise.

So on Saturday, Feb. 8, all my bets will all have been placed with the greatest of care, in the hopes that Saint Patrick (Mahomes) soon will be there. It's now 45 years since that first Super Bowl Christmas at the Hollsopple VFW. I have few regrets, and thankfully I didn't see mama kissing Spike the bookie underneath the mistletoe that night!