By Mark La Monica
LAS VEGAS -- It all began when the blackjack dealer at the Tropicana mentioned to his pit boss while shuffling the cards that he lost his bet on Michigan in the Rose Bowl.
I laughed as I counted the $50 I had won on the last shoe he dealt. "Why would you bet against Pete Carroll?" I asked.
"Oh here we go with the Pete Carroll stuff," he responded. "I'm a Patriots fan. I hate Pete Carroll."
Uh oh, I can feel the New York in me coming to a boil. I eschewed the Carroll conversation and went straight for the jugular.
"Oh, a Patriots fan, huh?" I said. "My Jets are gonna kick your ass on Sunday."
Boom. I lost the next nine hands in a row. Damn you, Belichick!
Finally, my profit stack on its last chip, I won a hand, stared down the dealer and yelled "Mangenius!"
Won the next hand, the next hand and the next hand. Here it comes. "J-E-T-S Jets! Jets! Jets!"
The dealer laughed. And I walked away with my dignity, pride for all Jets fans and the house's money.