Well, I just lost a bet based on ‘hope.’
A simple lunch bet, based on UFC 203’s main card, and it made me think… Hope can deceive, it can be dangerous. But it can truly be a great thing.
The underdog is something I have always related to and cheered for because I have hope.
I cheered for the Red Sox before they ever won anything because I had hope.
Saturday night, I wagered on and I cheered for CM Punk, again because I had hope.
The ‘expert’ opinion was to take my money and bet on a dead horse or set it on fire so at least I “get some bang for my buck.”
My other underdog proved my hope, so why quit now?
There were plenty of reasons, but the heart overtakes the mind at times like these.
Aged 37 years chronologically, but many more perhaps due to injury and surgery from tens of thousands of hours performing as a ‘glorified stunt man’ was no match for a 24-year-old jiu-jitsu phenom frothing at the gills.
That’s what the experts told me.
My guess, CM Punk heard it all too.
He heard the whispers, the catcalls, the hate. There was nowhere for him to hide from it, so I felt in my heart, “this guy has hope.”
As I mentioned, hope can be dangerous and this is a dangerous business.
At UFC 203, CM Punk took hope into the octagon, the loneliest and most dangerous real estate in all of sport.
We know the outcome.
The kid predicted it. And delivered it. One round.
So I lost my bet.
But, I haven’t lost hope.
I want to see CM Punk step into the octagon again.
Not for the pundits, not for the paycheque, but for pride, the pride of the try.
I admire every human being willing to try.
There are no successes and no defeats without the try. And a little hope…