At last, at last, football has arrived. No more searching for
things to do on Monday night. Finally, reasons to wake up before 2
p.m. on Saturdays and Sundays. Yes, the sight and smell of the Rose
Bowl warms the cockles of my heart. Hearing John Madden and Al
Michaels broadcast a fantastic Cowboys and Giants Monday night game
nearly brought a tear to my eye. And a flush to my wallet.
See, the funny thing is, I don’t even really like
football. Sure, I’ll watch the Bruins and I’ve always
had a soft spot for the 49ers, but truth be told the sport does
little for me in terms of excitement. But, I sure do like to
gamble.
I’m a poker player by trade, but wagering here and there
on the League, or (shhhhh!) a college game now and again is always
good fun. Still, as much as I enjoy making things “a little
more interesting,” I’ve come to a startling
realization: Mainstream America embraces my kind.
I’m obviously no crusader for the extinction of gambling;
free Pete Rose and all that jive. I’ve always thought placing
friendly bets on a game was perfectly understandable and totally
legitimate, but I never fully understood the level with which
gambling has penetrated the football world.
Just watch five minutes of SportsCenter and you’ll
understand what I’m talking about. It seems that, more than
any other year, ESPN has made a major point of emphasizing the fact
that people bet on football. Every week they run a special in which
Nick Bakay, their “lovable loser” persona, goes over
the games in which he wagered “units.”
Call them units, call them chits, the fact of the matter is that
ESPN has essentially created a character with which every gambling
afficionado can relate.
How many people lost their shirts betting big on Miami, only to
have them lose to Houston in Week 1? How many husbands had to go
back to their wives and explain to them that their vacation plans
would have to be delayed?
“But it was a sure thing baby!”
(Empty stare…)
“I’ll go sleep on the couch.”
It’s all a bit cheeky, and the subject is presented in a
mostly humorous manner. Still, let us not forget the perils of
wagering. In the same way that it can consume an individual,
gambling lines, spreads, and over/unders are taking over ESPN. All
I ever hear now are odds.
Hank Goldberg’s face comes on the screen and says things
like “take the dog in a close game” and “the
Cowboys always cover the spread.” Chris Berman, the
“Swami,” predicts outcomes and game scores every week.
I don’t think he does this just so he gets to wear a turban
(though lets face it, turbans are always fun). I wonder how much
money is won and lost based on Berman’s forays into fortune
telling.
This is, of course, all above ground, honest and totally legal.
This is pro football, after all. Surely, though, nobody is
naïve enough to believe there is no betting on college
football. You could have made an absolute killing if you had taken
the under on the UCLA-Illinois game. I mean, 6-3? Yikes. It was an
ugly game to watch, but if you found the right line you might have
had enough money to take the whole team out for Roscoe’s
Chicken and Waffles that night.
In one of the strangest inequities of life, gambling can have
profoundly different consequences for “amateurs” as
compared to professionals. Rick Neuheisel, former head coach of the
Washington football team, lost his job because he bet on an NCAA
basketball tournament pool.
Michael Jordan, on the other hand, supposedly lost untold
thousands betting on virtually anything: golf, football, blackjack,
Siamese twin three-legged races.
We, as fans, demand absolute certainty that the games are not
rigged, if only so that we, as gamblers, know that everyone has an
equal playing field.
Funny, isn’t it?
If you placed “units” going with the Giants -3,
e-mail Yuhl at cyuhl@media.ucla.edu so he can laugh at
you.