Every day at 7:00 AM sharp, the alarm sounds—and with eyes barely open, I speak one word aloud: “Jesus.”
It’s not a habit. It’s a declaration. A reminder of who I am, why I’m here, and the price that was paid for my life.
I look down at the tattoos on my wrists—the nail holes—and I remember my value: God gave His only Son for me. That identity fuels everything I do.
While the world is still quiet, I crack open a Red Bull and check the final scores from the night before.
I don’t stress over them. I don’t ride the emotional rollercoaster like a degenerate. I play the long game.
Like a seasoned stock market investor, I know short-term noise means nothing. I’ve never had a losing year, and my bankroll has grown in every single one of them.
I check results not for emotion, but to anticipate public overreactions. The sportsbooks shade lines based on recency bias.
Then I flip on ESPN—not for insight, but to hear what the public is being sold. When the media hypes, the public bets.
And I fade the public. That’s where the value is.
By 8:00 AM, my son Kingston wakes up, running into my arms. We shoot hoops on his Fisher-Price rim, toss a football, laugh over breakfast—eggs, meat, and a big bowl of fruit.
At 9:00 AM, Kingston knows it’s go-time for Dad. He heads off to play, and I step into my home office—a fortress of focus.
As the monitors boot up, I read a devotional and scripture. Then, it’s time to make magic.
From 9:15 to 11:00 AM, I analyze the market with ADHD-speed intensity. I fire up my software tracking real-time money movement and line shifts.
I highlight lopsided games and track what the sharps hit early.
By 11:00, I’ve got my shortlist of potential plays. But I wait.
Vegas isn’t awake yet. It’s only 8:00 AM out there, so not enough volume has poured in. I hit the gym.
I’m a PE major, former athlete, current high school coach—and staying sharp physically keeps me sharp mentally.
Lifting is therapy. After the workout, I’m back home by 1:00 PM, protein shake and banana in hand.
At 2:00 PM, I’m locked back in. I revisit my picks with the latest data.
Between 2:00 and 3:00 PM, I finalize my official plays—usually 1 to 5 per day depending on value and what the books need.
I bet every single play myself first, then screenshot my tickets, and only then do I release to clients via our site and email.
By 3:30 PM, clients receive their picks, along with a full press release: yesterday’s recap, YTD stats, thoughts on the betting market, and a personal note.
At 4:00 PM, I hop on a staff and business partner call to check for client concerns or media duties.
From 5:00–7:00 PM, I’m still on call but often riding around in the Yukon with my fiancée and some combination of our six amazing kids, headed wherever life takes us. At 7:00 PM,
At 7:00 PM, I relax my mind knowing the work day grind is over.
Food? We love Mexican, Pizza, and Hibachi.
Summer? We’re swimming, beaching, or relaxing.
Basketball season? I’m on the sidelines coaching and my family is in the stands supporting me.
Year-round? We worship and give back to our community.
From 9:00–11:00 PM, I wind down while watching the late games.
I’m always analyzing, always learning, always growing.
Three weeks a year, I’m in Las Vegas.
One week for March Madness.
One for NBA Summer League.
One to ring in the New Year—always at The Cosmopolitan, top of the pyramid, where I belong.
In Vegas, I entertain clients, gather intel, and live the dream.
I rent a sports car, hit the Strip at sunrise, and reflect on where I came from.
I was just a kid with a dream. Now I’m here.
This life? It never stops. But I was built for it.
I’m in the 1%. I put in what others won’t—so I can live like others can’t.
My father told me: someone’s always practicing while you’re resting.
So I don’t rest.
I grind.
I win.
And I give God all the glory.
I am The Wise Guy—and this is my life.
