It was just an exhibition. A meaningless Home Run Derby. But Stackers will never know the mental anguish your terrible prognostication skills have caused.

It all began around a month ago when I was sitting at the kitchen table, tapping away on the keys of my laptop. I was locked in. Following the path of my cursor as it glided across the screen like a cat watching a tennis match. My extreme visual focus almost caused me to miss the sound of a voice from across the table.

"Hey dad, what are you working on?" Taken aback by such an invasive question, I scanned my brain for potential answers. Possible retorts I considered: "Nice try fed", "Wouldn't you like to know", "It's above your pay grade" and the age old repeat the question back to the asker "What are YOU working on".

Instead I caved under the duress of this interrogation and revealed all my secrets. I was working on the latest post for the SN MLB Survivor Pool. Identifying which participants had gotten strikes, were eliminated and the weekly results for remaining stackers.

"That's cool, what's that paper for?" the voice continued to press.

I was reeling. What is with this onslaught of questions? I thought. I have already given up too much. I simply cannot tell him about my highly technical survivor pool tracking mechanism.

But then I caved again and gave up all the proprietary info. The fact that I converted a printed football survivor pool spreadsheet into a baseball survivor pool spreadsheet and that I like to make notes in pencil, not pen.

Then it happened. The voice revealed the intent behind the interrogation. It said:

"Cool, maybe I could join the next pool."

I was cornered. Shocked and not knowing how to reply, I said "Sure, why not?"

A plan was hatched. How could I sneak this underage stacker into town and then into the sports bar without other stackers noticing? And then it came to me. I will do it while they are all of celebrating and watching fireworks on the fourth of July. It worked like a charm. As far as I could tell, only one stacker noticed and I zapped them some sats to keep quiet.

But then the unthinkable happened. The voice from a month ago that interrogated me and who I snuck across the border, while flashing lights in the sky distracted the townspeople, won the Home Run Derby pick 'em. The very first contest he entered. Unbelievable.

Congrats @supercyclone. Great job kiddo. Enjoy your short lived bragging rights.

Stackers, please, please, please don't let him win the MLB second half survivor pool. FYI, the first post will be up shortly.

Sats for all, GR