This History of Gus the Pig: The Pigskin Predictor...One Fine Swine!!!
Okay, let’s get one thing straight from the start, baby…I’m a pig…no, literally, I’m a pig; a big-fat-lazy-over-paid Pig. And why am I overpaid you might ask?…because I bring home the Bacon! Here’s my story.
I was born on a farm near Bayou Teche around the outskirts of Verdenville. Yep, I was a goner fo sho, baby. I lost so many friends and family members to boucheries and crackling festivals it clogs my arteries just to remember them all. But I ain’t like other pigs, you see. I was smart, baby. I grew big and fat and won first place at the 4-H fair held at the Cajun Dome. That was my ticket out. I was bought by a farmer from Nevada, and that’s where destiny took over my pork-rich life.
One day, the farmer comes in with a visitor. It was none other than Jimmy the Greek—sports-bettor extraordinaire—stumbling home from one of his winning days at the track. He bought me on the spot and made me his number one swine. Took me in, looked after me, showed be the ropes. Why he had an affinity for over-stuffed farm animals I’m not sure? But I sure am thankful.
Wasn’t long before I was mastering the nuances of the betting on sports. Hell, I became so successful, The Greek, started relying on me to make his pics some weeks. CBS in the 80’s—that was all me. (For the record, I never liked that jerk Musberger, either). I’m a winner, baby, and everyone from Hank Greenberg to Keyshawn Johnson knows it.
But alas, even pigs get homesick. I missed the bayou, the mudbugs, the Louisiana slop. So, when I heard about this new website that was going to be up and running, I had to head back home to my sweet Louisiana.
So, for the first time in print (hell yeah I can type), I’m gunna give you my pics for the area match-ups and a couple of professional games thrown in there for good measure. A pig can’t change his sausage; you know what I’m saying.
You’re lucky; I trim the pork and get to the meat and potatoes of sports bets. I’m a wise old swine. Stick with me, you might learn something and perhaps make a little side cash as well…I don’t’ monkey around…
Sincerely,
Gus the Pig
I was born on a farm near Bayou Teche around the outskirts of Verdenville. Yep, I was a goner fo sho, baby. I lost so many friends and family members to boucheries and crackling festivals it clogs my arteries just to remember them all. But I ain’t like other pigs, you see. I was smart, baby. I grew big and fat and won first place at the 4-H fair held at the Cajun Dome. That was my ticket out. I was bought by a farmer from Nevada, and that’s where destiny took over my pork-rich life.
One day, the farmer comes in with a visitor. It was none other than Jimmy the Greek—sports-bettor extraordinaire—stumbling home from one of his winning days at the track. He bought me on the spot and made me his number one swine. Took me in, looked after me, showed be the ropes. Why he had an affinity for over-stuffed farm animals I’m not sure? But I sure am thankful.
Wasn’t long before I was mastering the nuances of the betting on sports. Hell, I became so successful, The Greek, started relying on me to make his pics some weeks. CBS in the 80’s—that was all me. (For the record, I never liked that jerk Musberger, either). I’m a winner, baby, and everyone from Hank Greenberg to Keyshawn Johnson knows it.
But alas, even pigs get homesick. I missed the bayou, the mudbugs, the Louisiana slop. So, when I heard about this new website that was going to be up and running, I had to head back home to my sweet Louisiana.
So, for the first time in print (hell yeah I can type), I’m gunna give you my pics for the area match-ups and a couple of professional games thrown in there for good measure. A pig can’t change his sausage; you know what I’m saying.
You’re lucky; I trim the pork and get to the meat and potatoes of sports bets. I’m a wise old swine. Stick with me, you might learn something and perhaps make a little side cash as well…I don’t’ monkey around…
Sincerely,
Gus the Pig