SAN FRANCISCO -- I have money on both Javier Castellano and Aaron Rogers this weekend. While one is the sport you would 100% guess, the other is a more obscure bet. The semi-legal, shady, and hidden world of NFL Jerk Circle betting. It feels like I'm Hunter S. Thompson writing about San Juan cock-fighting even mentioning this forbidden fruit. My bets are off, as are the horses as well as the quarter backs. Dak Prescott to finish last (champ), while I have strong money on Rogers having to eat that soggy limp biscuit.

Its a swampy day under the bleachers at the Derby in Churchill Downs, where the NFL Jerk Circle is traditionally held. We're surrounded by several greats, Dana White is here promoting his new Meat Slap league, as well as Bob Costas with his signature peanutbuttery tones gracing the microphone. Its reduced to a tinny sound coming out of the small speaker at the edge of the circle. The scene is reminiscent of the ancient art of sumo. 250LB+ men, pensive, hands on their knees, hear naked.

A single shot rings, the cap gun is blown, and they're off. Its a quick endevour, all business no pleasure. A few muffled grunts, avoidant eye contact, the works. This year lasts 2:07, nearly reaching the record of '83. Noones going to Vronsky any of the jackers, even though Garoppolo did end up breaking his leg.

I've lost money, but I've gained culture.