A Loser Long After Games Are Over

Of all the ways for a man to feel humbled and inadequate, one stands out. Sadly, I speak from experience, having recently gone through the humiliation. To say I feel less than a man states the obvious. Now, when I walk by a mirror, I avert my gaze.

To find out your sports knowledge is, shall we say, less than reliable is not easy to admit.

However, they say it’s best to talk about things like this, so here goes.

The college football bowl season is over, and my performance was dismal. Of 28 games, I picked 14 winners. Maybe hitting 50% impresses some people, but couldn’t I have done the same knowing nothing about college football? How could anyone pick South Florida to win a bowl game?

I’m not one of those guys who claims he can go all day long watching football on Saturday, but I’d like to think I know what I’m doing at crunch time.

I’ve been watching college football for more than 40 years. My dad was a sports nut and imbued me with the notion that a real man knew his sports. If given the choice between mastering American history or what constitutes pass interference, he’d have chosen the latter for me.

Unfortunately, a symptom of this syndrome is that it isn’t enough just to keep your opinions to yourself. I, like others with this affliction, feel the need to tell everyone of my prowess.

Example: The one bowl game I was most sure about involved my alma mater, the University of Nebraska. I told anyone who would listen, and even some who had no interest in listening, that Michigan would win by four touchdowns. I’d seen a number of Husker games and thought I was pretty knowledgeable about Michigan.

For example, I told a friend back East that Michigan was the safest bet of the bowl season, suggesting he bet his house on the Wolverines, which was favored by nearly two touchdowns. He trusted me.

Final score: Nebraska 32, Michigan 28.

The other game I had a bead on was USC-Texas. Because I’ve seen most of the Trojans’ games the last couple years, I let everyone -- friends, colleagues, a cousin, whoever -- know that the boys of Troy would win by a couple touchdowns.

But I couldn’t let it go with that. Oh, no. While talking to a friend and giving my item-by-item analysis in excruciating self-important detail, I informed him that Texas’ only hope was to keep the score low. “No way will Texas win a high-scoring game,” I proclaimed.

Final score: Texas 41, USC 38.

Of course, the problem with touting your sports knowledge is that some people pay attention. So it was that a cousin called from Kansas to remind me of my USC prediction, a friend called from Ohio to remind me of my Nebraska prediction, and Dad called from Sports Parlor Heaven to ask how I possibly could have picked Colorado State over Navy in the Poinsettia Bowl.

Talk about feeling 2 inches tall.

Now, the self-searching begins. If I don’t know anything about college football, what knowledge can I claim with any confidence? Forced to confront my inadequacy, how do I get that bounce back in my step?

They don’t make a blue pill for this.

Perhaps I was too nervous while making my picks. After all, I did have a $5 bet with one of our security guards (naturally, I lost). Perhaps I’d had such great expectations that I over-thought things (how else to explain picking BYU over California?). Perhaps I’d had too much caffeine while poring over the bowl matchups.

Excuses, excuses.

The experts say that after a performance like this, the best remedy is to get right back in the saddle. To be honest, I don’t really feel like cowboying up right now, but a man’s got to be a man.

So, take it from me, the Denver Broncos will win the Super Bowl. Trust me, I know what I’m talking about.

Dana Parsons’ column appears Wednesdays, Fridays and Sundays. He can be reached at (714) 966-7821 or at dana.parsons@latimes.com. An archive of his recent columns is at www.latimes.com/parsons.