I lose because, first of all, I don't know the difference between a fetlock and vapor lock. And I lose because I tend to pick horses based on the dumbest criteria, like if it was bred somewhere I like (Irish horses always get a nod from me, for instance), or if it has a really goofy name.
If you named a horse, say, What In Tarnation, I'd probably put a couple bucks on his nose. Ditto if it was named This Is A Damn Horse.
All of this means I'm probably the last guy who should be talking about how sports gambling -- once the province of skulks, people of low character and bookies with nicknames like Razorface and F***head -- has become not only legit but wholly embraced by the sports themselves.
This makes the Blob uncomfortable, not to say a trifle self-righteous. The uncomfortable part comes from remembering when Major League Baseball and the NASH-unal FOOT-ball League used to fling the gamblers in its midst into outer darkness. Away with you, Shoeless Joe and Charlie Hustle! We cast thee out, Paul Hornung and Alex Karras!
Well. No more of that ethical propriety.
Why, these days, there's both an NFL team and an NHL team in Vegas, and they're putting up double-deck sportsbooks outside Wrigley Field. And the leagues are partnering with Razorface and F***head, who these days go by aliases like Draftkings, FanDuel and various other online sportsbooks.
Shoot. Apparently even alleged journalists who cover the sports for which the online books set betting lines are partnering with 'em.
And here's where the self-righteousness comes in, as a former sports journalist myself.
Saw an item the other day on the sports blog site Defector that Adam Schefter, one of ESPN's top NFL analysts, has invested in Boom Entertainment, which makes sports and casino gambling apps. And guess who one of his co-investors is?
Robert Kraft. The owner of the New England Patriots.
All of this was reported by Timothy O'Brien in a Bloomberg piece. And it transforms the Blob once again into Old Man Shouting At Clouds, whose timeless rant always begins with him shaking his bony fist at the sky and hollering "BACK IN MY DAY ..."
Back in my day, I would never have been allowed to enter into a business relationship that involved the owner of a team I was covering. Hell, I would never be allowed to enter into a business relationship with online Razorfaces and F***heads regardless of who else was involved.
My newspaper's editor for all 28 years I was there, a by-god journalist's journalist named Craig Klugman, would have thrown me out of his office for even suggesting such a thing. I mean, on Craig's watch, we weren't even allowed to run an office pool for the NCAA Tournament. That's how much of an absolutist he was about conflicts of interest.
And you know what?
He wasn't wrong.
"Oh, Mr. Blob," you're saying now. "Quit shaking your bony fist and spluttering all over us. Conflicts of interest? Sooo last century, dude. I mean, haven't you been paying attention? There are no conflicts of interest anymore. The whole concept is as dead as triceratops. Congress abandoned it years ago, and the Last Guy In The White House all but made it official administration policy.
"So, yeah, it's perfectly OK now for a guy like Schefter, who has access to all manner of info that helps set betting lines, to become an investor with a sportsbook. I mean, even his employer thinks so. Why else would ESPN not get back to O'Brien when he reached out to them?"
Good question. And the obvious answer is, because ESPN is in bed with the sportsbooks, too. Its talent, after all, hypes them all the time on various interwhatsis platforms. Thus the lines that always were so clear to those of us of a certain age grow fainter and fainter.
Or vanish entirely.
"Ah, old man," you're saying now. "Whyncha go crank up your Model T and leave the rest of us alone? We can't hear you.
"Besides, we got the Packers and the points this Sunday. Mortal lock."
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