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People always ask me if I ever have any regrets about leaving the world of finance to blog for Barstool. If I’m ever concerned about the future or anything like that. Absolutely not. I don’t have a single worry. Not because I think we’re talented and motivated and growing or anything along those lines. The only reason I’m not worried about the future of Barstool is because of Black Magic. Dark Sorcery.

Because I genuinely think Dave Portnoy sold his soul to the Devil. Its the only rational explanation for this run for Boston sports. 8 parades in about 12 years coinciding precisely with the rise of Barstool Sports. 3 World Series, 3 Super Bowls, a Stanley Cup, and an NBA World Championship. Right in Boston, a place thats big enough to be considered a city, but small enough that Barstool can literally be the most important thing in town. Its completely and utterly mind blowing how it all fell into place.

I talk with Sales Guy 2.0 Louis about it all the time. Malcolm Gladwell could write an entire book on the amount of luck and coincidence that needed to fall into place for this empire to rise. Because its not just the teams winning either. Take, for instance, the Torii Hunter photo in the ALCS. How is it possible that mere weeks after the “V I V A” finger sign pictures take off, a right fielder flips over the fucking wall – something that happens basically never – with his legs creating a perfect V. At the exact same moment, for some fucking reason there’s a Boston cop in the bullpen celebrating the homer, two hands in the air, another perfect V. Not one hand up, not a fist pump, another perfect V. Directly next to each other, at the exact same split second, creating the V I V A shirt on sale today, undoubtedly raking in the dough? All en route to another World Series from a team that all decided t have absurd beards, yet another gimmick for the blog. These are things Malcolm Gladwell would dig into and explain…except eventually the trail runs cold. Eventually theres no more logic or evidence to explain how one fucking big nosed idiot and his city can experience this much success. Because this is all the work of Satan himself.

Louis and I have concocted the theory that one night, back in the year 2000, Dave Portnoy, Bill Belichick, John Henry, Danny Ainge, and I dunno, some dude from the fuckin Bruins, all happen to be at a gas station at the same time. All trying to fill up their tank but the gas pumps wont work for some reason and they’re frustrated with their lives and their future. Praying to some higher power that things turn around for them. And at that exact moment, a mysterious man appears, walking over to each man, fixing their gas pumps and thereby sealing the contract. Lucifer himself, the Prince of Evil, enters into a binding contract for the souls of Portnoy and the figureheads of all Boston Sports, granting them unlimited luck and success for the next 15 years.

8 titles and 2 million internet dollars later, everything is still coming up Pageviews. Eventually he’ll burn in eternal damnation, but for right now it all seems like it was worth it.