And slapped I got. Last night. My office mates here at the Off Base headquarters in New Orleans, all of the noncontributing members, have a guilty pleasure in How I Met Your Mother. Actually, it's less of a guilty pleasure and more of an obsession. Naturally, we now are in the habit of making slap bets. Fans of the know what I'm talking about and if you haven't seen it, I'm sure you can figure out what a slap bet is.
I made a slap bet with with a friend of mine after Cody Ross' offensive outburst in the NLCS. I didn't think Ross would hit another post season home run while my friend became the biggest Cody Ross fan outside of his parents. Ross hit 14 home runs and slugged .413 this season with the Marlins and the Giants. Surely Ross' NLCS MVPness was just another example of baseball's randomness, right?
Nope. Ross hit a solo shot in the top of the 7th off Colby Lewis and the slap bet was over. While I anxiously awaited the inevitable slap, I cursed Cody Ross with every profane word I could think of and consumed a fair amount of Jager and rum. I vaguely remember the slap so it's safe to assume I had properly numbed myself. Oh alcohol, the cause of and solution to all of life's problems.
I might have made a follow up slap bet about Ross hitting another home run. I'll have to check the transcripts from last night.