"Yes! Poolsville is open," I shouted as I read an email on my phone. The news echoed off the hardwood floors in my kitchen.
"Please don't say that out loud again. It's like you're waiting on an amusement park ride," my wife said, walking by without breaking her stride.
"It's my college football betting pool."
"That's even worse," she called from the small laundry room.
I've been in the same football pool for almost two decades and its beauty is in its simplicity. Playing the entire season requires only $10, and there's no way to spend more than that. The purveyor of the pool is a high school friend who selects five college games weekly and emails them to the players. Players pick the winner of each contest and send them back.
There's no over/under. There's no spread. It's just straight-up picking. A successful underdog pick earns bonus points. The house keeps nothing. A weekly tallying of points shows who owns the leaderboard and who occupies the cellar.
It's one of my favorite distractions.
Well-planned moderate distractions are fuel for a healthy soul. I'm not referencing the kind of distraction that keeps kids from doing homework or workers from completing their jobs. I'm talking about those little breaks in the pattern of the day that are rest for weary minds, sustenance for bodies that need to be exercised differently.
I enjoy college football, but I just don't know enough about the various teams to be a dangerous contender. I have a simple system: I pick schools I like, which usually results in a bottom-tier performance. I never pick Oklahoma teams; I always pick Notre Dame. I usually pick strong academic schools like Duke and Stanford. It's easy to understand why I never come close to winning.
The pool makes boring games interesting. Why would I care who wins the Purdue-Michigan State game? With the pool, I can't help but watch it. Is this gambling? Am I breaking the law despite my nominal investment?
Then, I remembered the lottery ticket I bought the other day.
"Why don't you just wad up two dollars and throw it out the car window? Seems like a better plan than buying a lottery ticket," my wife said.
"Somebody has to win; it might as well be me."
"You have a better chance of getting struck by lightning."
"No one has to get struck by lightning. Someone has to win the lottery eventually."
She mimicked pulling two dollars out of a wallet, wadding it up, and throwing it. I did not laugh.
"If I win, I'm not sharing with you."
"Oh gosh, that changes my mind completely," she said, her voice becoming low and serious. "By all means, please use our savings to buy lottery tickets from now on." She added a wink and a smile for good measure.
I hate it when she flirts while disrespecting me.
With the jackpot swirling toward $500 million, I just couldn't help myself. It's not that I need a better life. It's not that I even fully believe that much money could create a better life. It's the game. Before I sound like an addicted gambler, let me explain.
Winning a lottery requires no skill, no strategy on the part of the champion. It only requires the blind luck of purchasing a ticket at the exact right time at the exact right convenience store. It's a pure game of chance. But the small hit of dopamine that seeps into my brain when playing a game of luck makes the whole endeavor, well, fun.
Yes, I understand that fact underscores that gambling is as much a problem for some as alcohol and drugs are for others. It can be addictive, but I tell myself, moderate distractions are healthy. Moderation is key. And if you can influence the payout by doing a little homework, well, that's just too good to pass up.
Which takes us back to Poolsville.
An early big game in the form of Georgia versus Clemson dominated the first week. One can make a fairly educated guess in that one. There was also the Iowa versus Indiana matchup. Now, how would I know which team is better? Simple. Either study up on the teams or pick the school your high school friend attended. I chose the latter and Iowa, fortunately, came out on top. I picked Stanford over Kansas State due to my previously mentioned rules. Not a good choice this time.
Dreaming about a lottery score or watching a few college football games are distractions in every good sense of the word. We need those in life.
We need those moments when the pressures of a rapidly spinning Earth seem uncontrollable and fully intent on swallowing our small lives. We need distractions when the images of hate and anger, anxiety and disease, fill our waking moments. In fact, a few distractions make us more capable of handling the big thoughts life requires of us today.
I've already chosen my Poolsville picks for today and, despite the fact I've hit a 2-3 record every single week, I'm hopeful. Maybe this is the day my winning record begins. I might even catch the lottery announcement.
No matter, I'll enjoy the time away. I'll enjoy the distraction.
Steve Straessle, whose column appears every other Saturday, is the principal of Little Rock Catholic High School for Boys. You can reach him at sstraessle@lrchs.org. Find him on Twitter @steve_straessle.