If my knowledge about football was anything to go by, this was no mere situation. The headache I am having seems to be a tactical one. A keen lover of the Barclays Premier league would understand better; a joint tactical plan of Jose Mourinho and Sam Allarydyce. The headache seems more of a Jose Mourinho’s ‘parked bus’ and the long air balls of Big Sam, hitting every corner of my head. My head has been banging like balls hitting the bars of a goal post since Idris broke the news. If there was anything I was damn good at in recent months, it was calculating odds. I had gain reputation like tiki-taka, I hardly lose bets.
So, the news comes not only as a surprise but a blow to my rising reputation on campus. I didn’t see the odd coming before it hit me.
It was already past seven as I checked the time on my phone. A Saturday morning was already looking dull than usual. Without the head2ache, I would have been on the field already…no dare misses Saturday soccer in Unity (my hostel). The glamour that comes with it is more than a champions league qualifier. Windows and balconies are always filled to the brim, not leaving out the packed surroundings of the field. Sometimes we would have close to 12 sets and it was usually a ‘six players, one keeper’ game. I was a star player in my own right. I won’t consider myself the Messi or Ronaldo type of player…I was more of a James Milner (always full of energy). I was just in ND1 but I was always guaranteed a start ahead some older colleagues. Apart from the football I was going to miss out on due to headache, today was Saturday and no better time to cash money on sports betting. I’m not a bet addict though; betting is just addicted to me. Unlike most students, I hardly go to bet shops to place bets. I preferred the online way; play and cash your money online. It is more of a big boy thingy I thought.
I brought out my book of betting. A book that houses most of my winning tickets and those I nearly won. The book was a reference to my forecasting stats. Today is Saturday, which means there are several matches to be played across Europe; both the known and unknown leagues. I prefer sticking to leagues I was familiar with – la liga, bundesliga, epl, ligue 1, Russian league and others. I’m always of the opinion that the devil you know is better than the devil unknown. My last ticket was close to winning if not for Motherwell and Salzburg both losing; I had placed a straight win on them. I had always preferred my favourite odd – under 2.5 but I just wanted to try something new. Maybe under 2.5 is even my calling, I jokingly said. I was even nicknamed ‘Tola2.5’ by some of my betting friends. I continued my tactical forecasting as the headache grew in tempo. The noise in my head was greater that the starts of matches at Anfield. My mind raced back to the genesis of the headache. It was after Idris told me that the second semester GP was out. It was the GP for the whole of my ND, after all we didn’t get to see the first semester GP. Seeing the result made my mind raced to different places and moments while I stared jealously and praying for some magical add ups. How did I come about this result? How do I explain to BabaTola? What would my friends say? I had series of unpublished questions. My GP was a weeping 2.19, which means I was actually below 2.5. I was in pass. My GP was under 2.5. Questions mixed with headache hit my system. I could only provide one answer to all the questions tabled. Graduating with upper is like asking Watford to qualify for the Champions league and win it. The only realistic option was to make lower which comes with having above 2.5. I am keen on making 2.5 and it starts with no more under 2.5 bettings.
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