So for anybody that missed it this weekend, I was one of the winners of the #BudLightBusters from last week. I took my beloved Syracuse in the draft and Syracuse did what Syracuse does in March, which is win when nobody thinks they will with that goddamn zone that is very hard to prepare for on short notice in tournament play (Source: 8 billion articles written by various media outlets during the Jim Boeheim era).

As you can see in that video, I was cautiously excited about the idea of going to Vegas.

Anybody that follows me on Twitter or listens to Podfathers knows that my wife is pregnant. Very pregnant. Like 9 months pregnant. Her due date is April 12th and is scheduled to have C-Section on April 6th. Baby Boy Clem is coming down the tracks and there is nothing I can do about it.

A lot of people asked me the morning of the draft if I was actually going to participate in #BudLightBusters draft just in case I won. Dave even asked if I wanted in, even though I’m pretty sure he had no clue that my wife is extremely pregnant and just knows I’m a dad with real responsibilities. My answer was “of course”.

One reason is because I wanted to win something at Barstool. I know I won’t be winning any draft combines or Devour Olympics medal forks anytime soon. But being able to profit off of the hard work of college kids is what the NCAA is all about and sounded like a much easier task than catching a W at Barstool by doing any physical feat. Plus my wife is cool as hell. The fact that anybody, let alone somebody beautiful, would even dream of allowing me to have sex with her multiple times should tell you as much. She greenlit this from the beginning because she is not only cool but also loves me being involved in the chaotic content of Barstool. She’ll listen to Barstool Radio during her commute so she’s updated on the happenings of the office and has become quite the Stoolie in her own right. I’m a content guy and missing out on whatever random content that could pop off at any given time because this is Barstool would be brutal. Just me and Zah sitting next to each other on the plane (at my personal request for obvious reasons) will likely create an absolutely ridiculous picture for the Barstool history books. Rob and Big but reversed. And the thought of me, Zah, and Tommy Smokes recreating the iconic scene from The Hangover was too much to pass up.

But then my daughter got sick as hell on Friday. And was sick all weekend. Fever, deep cough, and strep. We also had news that ANOTHER Nor’easter was going to hit us the week I’d be going to Vegas. Oh yeah and my roof has been fucked up for months now and still hasn’t been fixed. And again, there is a human growing inside my now very large wife that prevents her from doing basic tasks around the house or to really take care of a sick kid. Dave had said that if we weren’t able to go, we didn’t have to. I was starting to have second thoughts, that became third thoughts whenever I remembered this diabolical tweet from my fellow Podfather Uncle Chaps.

UGLY!

But we also had my wife on Podfathers right after Syracuse punched my ticket and she assured Chaps that this was not a trap. She wouldn’t bring up me going to Vegas a month or a year or a decade down the road.

Wifey joins at the 22:00 mark

I also neeeeeed this break because I’ve been mentally fried after the last few months of actually having to carry my considerable weight in this marriage and with number 2 on the way, it’s not going to get any better. In fact, it is DEFINITELY going to get much much worse. Donnie’s blog about babymoons was spot on. I never had even heard of a babymoon until after my first one was born. I also had a ton of coworkers and Stoolies say how happy they were for me. If nothing else, I could never let the Stoolies down more than I already do. And if Young Me ever heard that Old Me passed up a free trip to Vegas, he would kick Old Me directly in the dick. I’m doing this for the washed up dads with 2+ kids that didn’t have a chance to get away one last time before their social life was curtains.

So what did I do? The same thing I do about all decisions in my life. Nothing. I just sat around and hoped the universe would sort everything out. So when I checked my Barstool email for the first time in days, I saw this.



Full name redacted because people seem to get really mad at me when they find out my real name isn’t just “Clem”

Yup, I guess that means I’m going. Booking a trip from New York to Vegas the week of is not very cheap and I’m not one to waste any of the Big Swinging Dick’s or Anheuser Busch’s great great great grandson’s money. If my son is born because I was attending my 41-year-old boss’s birthday party, so be it. Who cares that I am too scared/dumb to gamble at table games and fit in at clubs about as well as I fit in a crowded subway train? Or that when I dropped Siena off at school today, there was a notice saying that the stomach bug had taken over the entire school? If the Stoolies want me in Vegas, then I am going to Vegas. Hank and I going from hanging out in Latvia to hanging out in Vegas is an all-time upgrade. Unfortunately for me, we will now have a camera crew likely ready to catch my night terrors. But that’s part of being in this goddamn fish bowl that Dave Portnoy created. I also need to learn how to gamble ASAP because the quickest way to pay for a leaky roof is riding a heater in Vegas. Everyone knows that.

So lets go Cuse and if you can’t get down with that, you must be a Duke fan. Fuck Duke. #VivaLaCuse #ClemVegas

P.S. I just floated the idea to Wifey that if she goes into labor and Tommy Smokes continues to bring Dave good luck, maybe I could get him to pay for a private flight as long as a Barstool cameraman was allowed in the delivery room. And she didn’t shoot it down. She left the room without saying anything BUT SHE DIDN’T SHOOT IT DOWN!