Weakness of The Betting Man

I have a confession to make. I am the worst gambler in the world.

Because, unlike most of the educated people walking the streets today, I seem to dislike having too much money in my possession. It makes me nervous, I guess.

So instead of investing it, putting it in a savings account, or giving it to someone to hide in a place where I won’t be able to find it, I’ll make a dumb bet to lose it.

Don’t get me wrong; I’m not a degenerate gambler, or even a regular. I hate the horse track. I don’t play a weekly football card. And I’ve never even been to a casino. I couldn’t afford any of that.

But I’m the guy who makes THAT bet. The one you’ll be telling your friends about for years to come. The bet that would invoke one of the following three questions:

Was he thinking?

Was he drunk?

Does he even watch sports?

No. Probably. And Yes. But as I’m sure a lot of you probably know, a good sports fan does not make a good gambler.

My latest tragedy? Three nights ago at a bar with some friends, I gave 4-1 odds to my buddy that the Red Sox will win the division over the Yankees.

Yep, go ahead. Put down the paper. Take a deep breathe. Call me an idiot. And let’s continue reading, shall we?

And let me repeat. A 4-1 bet (his $50 to my $200) that the Red Sox, who currently hold a whopping game and a half lead on the always dangerous New York Yankees, will win the American League East.

Just mind boggling.

But like all my bets, there were four key factors that led me to this nonsense. And it’s a consistent formula that makes it no surprise that my bank account is empty and the utilities won’t be paid on time.

I call them the Fab Four of My Financial Ruins.

1. Argument Ender

Every dumb bet usually begins with a ridiculous argument. I’m not necessarily always wrong in the argument, but I really don’t like the fact that the other person isn’t agreeing with me.

And the other person usually knows how much it bothers me. So they taunt me. They know that those four beautiful words are coming soon enough: “let’s make a bet”.

Most of my bets over the years have revolved around the Boston Red Sox. And the Red Sox, until this past October, haven’t been the best team to gamble your hard earned cash on. They tend to disappoint.

Instead of agreeing to disagree after a long, drawn out argument, I take the battle to another level. If they don’t want to agree with me, then they’ll have to pay later, or so I hope.

For example, I bet twenty-five dollars straight up that David Ortiz was going to be named MVP two seasons ago. That was a ridiculous bet for so many reasons. Besides the fact that a DH has never won the MVP award, there are usually like four or five guys up for MVP and to bet straight up on just one guy is beyond moronic.

I remember the argument well. I was spitting out Big Papi’s MVP case like there was no tomorrow and to be fair, it wasn’t a bad case. A couple writers apparently did agree with me, as Ortiz received a few votes. But my buddy I was arguing with laughed it off and said it was a joke that I believed that Ortiz could win it. I was heated.

Oh really? Yea. Wanna bet? Sure. Twenty-five dollars that David Ortiz wins MVP? You’re on.

That twenty-five dollars could’ve paid for half a tank of gas, for Christ’s sake.

2. Bar Better

I always seem to make these wagers when alcohol is involved. And it is no surprise that my latest wager came at a bar.

There’s something about a bar that makes us all a little high and mighty about our spending. Maybe it’s because we’re unloading four dollars for a watered down beer and there really can’t be anything that financially makes any less sense than that.

There’s that whole machismo factor that plays into the bet, too. We’re drinking some beers, watching the game. What else do guys do? How about gamble? No matter how dumb the bet, it has to be done to complete the threesome of things guys do at a bar.

3. Oblivious to the Odds

Odds are just not an issue for me in the heat of battle. My latest bet is a perfect example of that. I bet with my heart. Not with logic.

About ten minutes after the bet the other night, I started to do the numbers in my head.

The Yankees could take the division lead with a series sweep over the Sox in one weekend. That’s not that far fetched.

And to say that they couldn’t pick up two games on us over the next month? That’s ludicrous. I think Vegas would be hard pressed to give 1.5-1 odds on the Sox winning the division right now. I gave 4-1. Dumbass!

I looked up from the bar, finally realizing I didn’t think the wager through and my buddy was smiling. He had already won a small victory.

Even if the Sox do hold on to win the division and I take his $50, he made a bet no man, woman, or child would have turned down. He got 4-1 odds. He called a dumb guy out on his dumb bet. And that hurts more than any payoff.

4. Boredom

I get bored, like we all do.

Classes are boring. My job is boring. My friends can be boring. But bets are never boring, no matter how ridiculously stupid they are.

Like why not bet your buddy five bucks he won’t roll up this issue of Barstool and hit a stranger on the head with it? Will he do it?

It’s a dumb way to lose five bucks, but it’d be pretty hilarious to witness.

Join me. Make a dumb bet. Because it’s better to be broke than bored.