I was gambling. And I loved it.
My grandfather lives just outside of Las Vegas so, for the first time since he moved out there about 12 years ago, my mother’s family decided to spend Christmas in Las Vegas. It had been long discussed within the family but this ended up being the year to do it. Thanks to the economy and the usual down period – who wants to spend Christmas in Vegas? – we were able to score spectacular deals. I stayed at the Monte Carlo for seven days, six nights and my room cost a grand total of $114.
You know what that means? I had gambling money.
Not everything about Vegas for Christmas is great. Namely, it’s that painful sinking sensation that you’re going to hell for playing blackjack on the birthday of Jesus. Or it could’ve been the Christmas carols, once songs that reminded me of my childhood, now becoming the soundtrack of my gambling exploits.
It didn’t matter. I was gambling on football.
If you’ve read this site or followed me on Twitter, you know that I’m obsessed with college football and bowls. I can’t explain why but since I was about 10 years old, everything about bowls fascinated me. The random matchups. The crazy locations. The wonderfully awful tourist commercials for places like Boise and Shreveport. The insane amount of games squished into a small window.
For roughly two weeks, my college football experience reached an unusual and exciting peak. I’ve always been obsessed. But now, I actually had a reason to be obsessed. And thus begins my first journey through the bowl season with money riding on everything.
Please note: I may be off by a point or two on the lines and over/unders. Sue me. I do know what I needed to cover and, really, isn’t that all that matters?
Friday, Dec. 24
I arrived in Las Vegas in the wee hours of Christmas Eve morning. The city was in the strangest state I’ve ever seen it in. For one, the place was practically deserted. I’m used to the Strip always being packed with people, especially at midnight on a Thursday. The people would return but not on the Christmas holiday. I guess some people don’t like going to hell.
The Strip was also covered in water as it had rained for three straight days. Without storm drains or run-off, the water just sat there. The cab driver from the airport told us that he had never seen it rain so much in his ten years of living out there. I didn’t know if that was a good omen or a bad omen – I just knew that it was slowing down my arrival at the Monte Carlo.
After staying up way too late playing blackjack, I woke up on the afternoon of Christmas Eve with my eye on Tulsa. I had seen Tulsa play twice. I watched them beat Notre Dame and thought, “I know everyone will bag on Notre Dame, but this is a good team.” The second time I saw them was the day after Thanksgiving, when they scored I believe 120 points against Southern Miss. I knew they were good.
As a true sports gambling tourist, I bet everything. I parlayed Tulsa +10 and the over. I put some on the Tulsa money line. I even took Tulsa +5 in the first half. It cannot be stated enough that the only thought running through my mind around this point was I LOVE GAMBLING I LOVE GAMBLING GAMBLING LOVE GAMBLING.
On our way to my grandfather’s for Christmas Eve dinner, I realized our family has a tradition of not watching television during Christmas Eve. Hmm, this could be tricky. But it’s Las Vegas, everyone must have money on the game, right? I know my dad has Tulsa…are we the only two losers with money riding on this game?
As we arrived, the game had just started and my uncle was yelling at a Hawaii player for missing a tackle. How did I celebrate Christmas before this?Tulsa took the lead into halftime, winning my first bet. They looked good to cover. And the money line seemed reasonable. But the over/under, something well past 70, was going to be close.
The family sat down to eat, a wonderful Italian array of pasta, crab cakes, shrimp and lobster. The game faded briefly to the background as the meal started – the TV remained on but muted.
And then, a Christmas miracle.
Touchdown. Pause. Touchdown. Pause. Touchdown. Pause. Touchdown. In the span of about 10 minutes, or about two minutes of game action, the teams combined for four touchdowns. It was simply perfect.
When you gamble on sports, you always imagine the perfect scenario for you to win your bets. It never happens. During halftime, I told my dad, “I’d be happy with about four touchdowns in the third quarter.” He said he wanted five for the cover before the fourth quarter even started. I laughed. But he was right. They put up five and the over was hit in three quarters.
I spent the fourth quarter constantly looking over my tickets. It made so happy. I did it, I thought. I’m a winner, I told myself.
Hawaii Bowl: Tulsa 62, Hawaii 35
Sunday, Dec. 26
I’m going to skip my NFL bets for this day but let’s just say that if Tampa Bay didn’t beat up the Seahawks, I may have had to walk home from Vegas. It wasn’t pretty. I knew my day was going to be painful when I bet on the Jets, a total no-no, and sat down in the sportsbook next to a guy in a Bears jersey. To make matters worse, the Bears guy had his wife with him…and she was wearing a Packers jersey. To make everything even more deplorable, they kissed after every Bears touchdown.
My only solace is that karma’s a bitch and they’re probably not having sex this week.
As for that night’s bowl game, Mother Nature had made that game significantly more important to gamblers. The Vikings/Eagles Sunday night game had been pushed back to Tuesday meaning gamblers looking for a fix bet in droves on the Little Caesars Pizza Bowl. And they must’ve all bet on FIU. When I bet that morning, FIU was a one-point favorite. By the time the game started, FIU was a 2.5 point favorite.
Not feeling confident, I parlayed FIU and the over. And for a while, it didn’t look good. Toledo was dominating the game and FIU looked like a bunch of high schoolers who had showed up for the Super Bowl – completely and totally in over their heads. I contemplated leaving the Monte Carlo sportsbook since everyone there had evidently bet on Toledo. It was a bad scene.
Then FIU returned a kick for a touchdown. Then Toledo’s QB threw a pick. Then he threw another one. Out of nowhere, FIU had sprinted to a 31-24 lead with time running out. There was just one minor problem – I was one point short of hitting the over. In that moment, I realized the cruelty of sports gambling.
Even though I had FIU, I needed Toledo to score a tying touchdown to force overtime. If the game ended 31-24, I would lose. At least at 31-31, I would have a chance. So as Toledo marched down the field, I rooted for them. When they scored a touchdown, I whooped it up. Then, they called timeout.
They’re going for two?? What?!?
Things were still okay – if FIU stopped the 2-point conversion, they’d win by 1. I’d push on the spread but still hit the over/under. Okay, a little victory is better than a loss. I reverted back to an FIU fan. It was too late. Toledo hit the 2-pointer. To put it bluntly, I was screwed.
When it got to 4th and forever for FIU, I was more than screwed. I was done. I took my ticket out of my pocket and prepared for the ceremonial “ripping of the losing ticket” that I have perfected at many horse tracks across the country. I never ripped up the ticket.Straight out of the Boise State no effin way playbook, FIU ran a hook and lateral and it worked! While the sportsbook yelled at the announcers and claimed Toledo was being unfairly screwed, I sunk into my seat and bit my fingernails. This couldn’t happen, could it? I couldn’t win this bet like this…could I?
As FIU lined up for the possible game-winning field goal, I felt all eyes on me. The sportsbook knew I was the only one who had FIU. They knew I was the only one who would celebrate if that kick went through. I said nothing. I didn’t have that much riding on the game, I just knew I wanted it. I don’t remember being more nervous for a kick in my life that didn’t involve my team. The kick went up and, how glorious, it was good from the moment toe hit leather.
I jumped up, pumped my fist twice and yelled, “Hell yeah!” like an absolute idiot. I went right over, cashed in my ticket and walked away with fresh gambling money.
It may not have been the greatest cover in gambling history, but man it felt like it. A hook and lateral? A game-winning field goal? It didn’t dawn on me until a few days later that it took a ridiculous set of circumstances for me to cover. That didn’t matter – I couldn’t lose.
Little Caesars Pizza Bowl: Florida International 34, Toledo 32
Monday, Dec. 27
As a warm-up to Monday night’s huge Falcons/Saints showdown, I put a nice sum on Air Force -3 to take out Georgia Tech. I missed the first half because I got caught at the Bellagio – I sat down with $20 to play a couple of blackjack hands and walked away with $300.
Air Force, though, couldn’t get its option game going. Georgia Tech’s backup punt returner even muffed a kick at midfield. Didn’t matter as Air Force punted. Down 7-6, it looked like my luck had…“He did it again!” That was the scream I heard from the group behind me with the southern drawls. And they took great pleasure in the Georgia Tech backup punt returner muffing another kick, this time in the red zone.
“You got Air Force?” I asked the Dad of the family.
“Nah, we’re Bulldogs fan. I hate Tech,” responded the Dad.
“And it’d be nice to see an academy win a bowl,” added the Mom.
“Yeah, but it’s more that I hate Tech,” the Dad chimed in.
Air Force punched it in. They would hold on for dear life. I was undefeated in bowl season and coming to grips with the fact I may be the World’s Best College Football Gambler thanks to my undying devotion to the sport.
Independence Bowl: Air Force 14, Georgia Tech 7
Of course, pride comes before the fall.
Follow me on Twitter
0 comments:
Post a Comment