The Chargers, J. R.?
There was a fellow called Limpy who used to hang out at the Stardust sportbook on Sundays to watch NFL football. Each and every Sunday, Limpy would risk precisely $20 on a 10-team NFL parlay card bet. (A 10-team parlay card at that time paid 850-for-one, making Limpy a $17,000 winner if he won.)
Trouble was, Limpy never began the day with a clue as to which ten teams he liked.

To decide which teams to bet on, he developed a regular group of professional-level handicappers from whom he'd prompt advice. Limpy valued these handicappers' opinions, and he'd finally form his own opinions from what they had to say.

I was one of those honored advice-givers. In those days, the Stardust was one of my favorite sportbooks, and I could easily be found at my favorite station, watching for line moves. Every Sunday, sooner or later, here would come Limpy, and he'd ask me which teams I thought he should put on his ten-banger. I always took the time to do my best for Limpy, even though I discouraged his ten-teamers. The payoff actually wasn't all that bad, but the wins were too far apart.

As luck would have it, I got on a pretty good streak for a week or two - (or, at least, Limpy perceived me to be on a good roll) - and finally one Sunday Limpy decided I should have the honor of picking all ten of his bets.
So I did.

Whaddayouknow, the first six games were early games, and all six teams won. Then, in the later games, three of the remaining four games were very early blowouts in Limpy's favor.Wow. Limpy was coming unglued. He was giggly and excited, talky and nervous. His hands were trembling and he was sweating and he kept pacing back and forth, chain smoking and shouting orders at the various television screens. He'd sit, he'd stand, he'd pace, he'd sit, he'd recheck the total amount he planned to win, he'd order another Mountain Dew from the cocktail waitress and pace some more...

Sure enough, the three blowouts went on to win, making nine of the ten games winners. My picks were 9-0, leaving one game still in the air, the Chargers -3 at home against the Raiders.
The Raiders finally beat us, 12 - 7.

Limpy was crushed. Another losing Sunday. Another $20 lost and gone. Another $17,000 winning ticket down the drain. He sat slumped in his chair with his head bowed, sullen and withdrawn.

I approached him to express my sympathy, and put a hand on his shoulder. He angrily swatted away my hand, outraged at how stupid I was, and shouted, "The Chargers, J. R.?!...How the hell could you pick the Chargers?!"

Overheard at the Mirage sportbook:
"I don't mind losing the bets, but I hate losing the money."

Email to our website:
"...(During my 1-month subscription) Mr. Miller had 4 days of NO PLAYS. According to my records, I should have 3 additional days remaining on my subscription..."

The Unluckiest Lucky Streak
If you're familiar with Las Vegas, or if you've done much research on sports betting, you've already heard of Bob McCune. He's not only been a successful handicapper for many years, he's taught classes on sports betting, written countless articles plus five books. It's safe to say that I and thousands of others are better handicappers because of Bob McCune. (Bob's books are available at gambling bookstores everywhere, including Gambler's Book Club and Gambler's General Store in Las Vegas.

After retiring at 76 years old, Bob sold his luxurious home in Las Vegas and moved to Lake Havasu, Arizona.

Sure, he still bets on sports at this writing. He drives to Nevada regularly to place bets. It's a 45-minute drive to Laughlin, Nevada, from Bob's home.

But just before Week 7 of the 1999 NFL season, Bob decided to skip that long drive. He decided to take a week off and lounge around the house.
Meanwhile, the local newspaper in Lake Havasu had a weekly football handicapping contest. Participants picked 20 games, both college and pro, against the published pointspreads. It's a simple contest, done to promote the paper's circulation. There is no entry fee. Whomever calls the most winners against the pointspread wins $150.

Since Bob stayed home that week, he passed some time one evening marking off his choices and entering the contest.
The $150 prize was definitely not his motivation. Never mind how much Bob, himself, risks on sports bets, that's not our business, but professional handicappers generally risk anywhere from $500 to $5,000 per bet, and often more. With 20 bets, it would not be unusual for a full-time sports bettor to risk upwards of $20,000 - $40,000. Suffice it to say that entering the $150 contest was nothing more to Bob than a way to relax for an hour or so.

He went 20-0.
Did you get that?.....Twenty and Oh. Those are odds of more than a million-to-one. (1,048,755-to-1 to be exact.)
Bob called me the next day at my place in Tennessee to tell me what happened. The whole thing struck him as funny. In fact, his reaction to the "unluckiest lucky streak in history" is testament to Bob's underlying character. He had just picked up the check at the newspaper office before he called. "...And do you know what they asked me, J. R.?" he laughed. "They wanted to know what I planned to do with the $150."

Email to our website:
"...I'm thinking about signing up to get your newsletter...Please send me a breakdown of your last 5k to 8k bets..."

Overheard at the Mirage sportbook:
"The trouble with betting ten dollars is, you can only win ten dollars."

Which Score?
My brother, R. J., was known for his ability to concentrate. That's an asset in the long run for a professional-level sports bettor, but as with an absent-minded professor, it can have strange and often funny consequences.

R. J. and I were at the Barbary Coast watching the closing seconds of a late NFL game between the Denver Broncos and Seattle Seahawks. The pointspread winner of the game had long since been decided. The underdog Seahawks had a commanding lead, 28-14, and had the game won outright. My brother and I were still interested, however, because we were both on the 'under' bet. The over/under line on the game was 48 1/2 points.

Of course, with the score 28-14 and time running out, we seemed to be in good shape, having bet the game 'under' 48 1/2 points. Trouble was, Denver and their Superquarterback John Elway had the ball, and they were driving against Seattle's dreaded "prevent defense." The Seahawks, meanwhile, had already begun to celebrate their unexpected victory. It was a situation very familiar to over/under bettors.
While we were watching the game, a fellow came wandering up from the casino area and began watching the game with us. He'd probably noticed our interest in the game and wondered what was going on.

After watching awhile, this fellow asked my brother, "What's the score?"
Without missing a beat and without moving his eyes from the screen, R. J. answered abruptly, "Forty-two." (...The Broncos went on to score, by the way, losing 28-21 and beating us by half a point.)

Overheard at the Stardust sportbook:
"I can't win when I bet on home teams and I can't win when I bet on visitors... I don't know who else to bet on."

Murphy's Law & Sports Betting:
Sometimes the wheels come off a team, and there's just no explaining what happened. All the emotional and subjective factors in the universe seem to converge and cause awesome consequences. On February 27, 1998, the NBA Portland Trailblazers were visiting the Indiana Pacers. The 'Blazers were getting 4 points. We handicapped the game in our usual way, and finally decided the 'Blazers were a good betting opportunity at +4...
Portland ended up losing the game, 124-59. We lost the bet by two more points than Portland scored.

That's Odd, - I Don't Feel Lucky
Veteran gamblers just plain think differently than nongamblers. They march to a different drummer. If you're a nongambler you might not even understand this little story, but if you're a veteran sports bettor it may sound all too familiar.
My brother, R. J., and I were watching pro football on the big screens at the Rio when R. J. decided to go to the Gold Coast to play blackjack. I still had several NFL bets in the air, and they were going badly, so I didn't want to leave. (It always helps your bets if you watch them on television and root for your side.)

R. J. and I agreed to meet later for dinner at a new restaurant we hadn't yet tried.
I went on to get buried. It was one of my worst weekends ever against the NFL, and I certainly didn't feel like having dinner. Never mind how much I lost; - call it plenty. I drove straight home.

When my brother got home I apologized for not meeting him at the restaurant. "I'm sorry," I said, "but I got killed after you left. I lost every bet...I didn't feel like eating."
"You're lucky," my brother said, "the food was terrible."

Overheard at the Gold Coast sportbook:
"The Patriots won?...The Patriots? How the fuck could the Patriots win? They weren't even favored!"

The Ex-Gambler
In Week Eleven of the 1995 NFL season, the San Francisco 49ers were 9-point underdogs at Dallas.
I was in line to place a bet at the Mirage sportbook in Las Vegas. The fellow ahead of me finished placing a bet, stepped aside, and paused to put his ticket in his wallet. A woman who had to be this guy's wife stepped up and confronted him. She was scowling, angry, and obviously disapproved of his buying the ticket.

She hissed sarcastically, "After last week, I thought you were all finished gambling on football."
The fellow thought for a moment, unconsciously stroked his wallet, and answered, "I'm getting the 49ers plus nine points...You can't call that gambling."

The Baseball Expert
My brother, R. J., swears this is a true story, and - who knows - this might be where this story actually started.
One September years ago, R. J. was flying to San Diego from Las Vegas and found himself seated next to a baseball bettor who was on a very bad losing streak. This fellow spilled his heart out, describing in painful detail having several losing weeks in a row.
"Nothing seems to help," the fellow whined. "Sides, over/unders, home teams, visitors, dogs, favorites...I'm losing everything. Good pitchers have bad days, bad pitchers have good days...It's the worst losing streak I've ever had."
After listening to this dreadful tale for what seemed like 'way too long, my brother finally suggested, "Maybe you should switch to football for awhile."
"Football?!" the guy moaned disgustedly, "What the hell do I know about football?!"

Overheard at the Rio sportbook:
"I doubled up today to press my winning streak; - now I have to double up tomorrow to get even."

Fernando Valenzuela's Revenge:
Dodger's ex-manager Tommy Lasorda is a friend of HEE-HAW producer Sam Lovullo. I was one of the writers for the show and I met Tommy when he visited our set in Nashville.
When the Dodgers' Mexican pitching great Fernando Valenzuela was negotiating for a new contract, I asked Tommy how much it was going to take to get Valenzuela signed.
Tommy answered, "He wants Texas back."

The Bad Beat of the Decade
It was the 1999 MLB playoffs. It was the bottom of the 15th inning between the Braves and Mets. The game was tied, 3-3. The bases were loaded and my friend Adrian from Singapore was on the "Over" 9.0 runs. With the score 3-3, he needed to catch a longshot break to win, of course.

Whaddayouknow, with the bases loaded Robbin Ventura came to bat and hit a grand slam home run!
Adrian was ecstatic, of course. A final score of 7-3! "Over" 9! His sportbook credited his account with his winnings and all was right with the world.

...But wait....Or was it? The fans flooded the field, the players piled onto Ventura, and there was instant chaos. Ventura was swept off his feet before he could run the bases.

Finally, the officials decided it can't be a home run because Ventura failed to touch all four bases. They took away the homer and called the homer a "single." Rather than the game ending with a score of 7-3, it was offically scored as 4-3!....."Under" 9. Adrian's sportbook took back their money and Adrian got the Bad Beat of the Decade Trophy.

Top 10 signs your 9-year-old son might be gambling....

10. He's been rolling his brother's blocks and yelling "Seven-come-eleven!"

9. His backyard merry-go-'round has the numbers 1 through 36 written on it, plus a 0 and a 00.

8. While playing "Go Fish" he tried to double down.

7. He posted a line on his 4th grade spelling bee.

6. While the rest of his class is learning multiplication tables, he knows how to convert moneylines into must-win percentages.

5. The Stardust sent him free airline tickets.

4. The last time your family ate at McDonald's it was comped.

3. He recently bought a $2,000 sportcoat.

2. He knows way-y-y too much about NFL yards-per-point differentials.

I Dunno, - Whadda You Think?
There's a stockbroker who retired in Las Vegas. We'll call him Charlie. Charlie enjoys betting on sports, but he requires somebody else's input before being able to make decisions. He's forever having second thoughts and doubts about every betting decision he makes, both before and after he lays it. I never met such an intelligent man who could so easily be touted.

Charlie and I met for coffee at Terrible Mike's restaurant in the Gold Coast casino and, as luck would have it, we were talking about his chronic inability to stick with a decision. He'd been betting on my opinions for a couple weeks, and I'd just had a few losing days. Charlie was ready to trash the whole idea of getting my opinions. He thought we should try some other System Of The Week he'd heard about.

I knew the losing streak was a common and natural phenomenon that would pass, and that we would end up winners over the long haul. I reminded him of past bumps in the road and tried to shore up his resolve. Of all people, you'd think a stockbroker would understand short term fluctuations, but not Charlie. Moreover, he denied having any sort of problem with indecision at all. So far as Charlie was concerned, if I had three or four losing days in a row I should try using somebody else's opinions.

As we talked, Charlie decided to go to the counter and order a fish sandwich. He offered to buy me one - "You should try 'em, J. R. They're great" - but I passed.
When he came back he had a hamburger.....Somebody touted him off the fish.

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