Les Miles Is A Terrible Human Being…
…and he ruined my weekend!
At 5 am Pacific Standard time Sunday morning, I was running across Harmon Blvd in Las Vegas. This wasn’t a heavy jog, like most grown people do when they’re “running,” I was in a full-on sprint. I was running like a crazy person across an empty street because I had just left a cab at a different hotel without paying and I needed to get to my room before he saw me and called the cops. I’ve never run out on a cab fare on my life, but I had to because I was stranded in the middle of Las Vegas with no money at five in the morning. This was all Les Miles’s fault.
Everything started on Thursday, when I noticed that LSU was somehow a four-and-a-half point underdog to Ole Miss. Mississippi was at home, and in Vegas line world that somehow seems to justify a team getting an extra 10 points on any line. As I was planning a trip to Las Vegas for the upcoming weekend, I decided to place a little wager on the game.
Realizing that there was no way LSU could possibly lose by four-and-a-half points to Ole Miss and believing that my college football acumen was much greater than it actually was or is, I put an unjustifiable amount of money on the Tigers winning straight up.
Four hours later I was crying – literally crying – into the most expensive drink I’ve ever purchased. Prior to that, all I remember is screaming. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the idiotic coaching performance I witnessed, maybe it was the fact that I felt like I was watching my money being set ablaze, but I have never yelled as much or as hard at an inanimate object as I did at the television that day.
As Les Miles sat there on the sideline like a buffoon for those 17 seconds, while precious time ticked off the clock at the end of the game, I felt like I was watching George W. Bush in that classroom on 9/11.
“The country is under attack, Les! The country is under attack! Do something!”
I may or may not have actually yelled this out loud at the bar I was in – everything between LSU recovering an onside kick and the final scoreboard reading LSU – 23 Mississippi – 25 is one big whirlwind blur of anger, sadness, joy and disbelief.
I died a little that day.