WANNA BET?

“Angles in Motion” by Marilyn Binder Silverman.

This accompanying artwork is the original, protected, and sole property of artist Marilyn Binder Silverman and held under copyright. Marilyn Binder Silverman’s images, artwork, and content on this website and her website may not be copied, collected, or used for personal or professional gain without written authorization from her.

‘Tis the season for watching televised college and professional sports as we are amidst the drama of NFL playoffs, the thrill of basketball action, and the excitement of professional hockey.

But something seems different.

In the past, broadcast games featured entertaining commercials involving beer, close shaves, new sports cars, and sexy deodorants.

It now seems we are barraged with gambling commercials, featuring famous sports stars and actors, touting all things that involve betting, making tons of money and having fun each time we watch a game.

How did we get to this point?

There was a time that linking college and professional sports to gambling was the ultimate taboo. That is clearly no longer the case. This is all the result of ballot approvals—32 states have already legalized online sports betting—and the apparently insatiable appetite of sports and gambling fanatics across the country.

Now, broadcast sporting events often begin by citing the particular over and under, the moneyline (whatever the heck that is), ATS (against the spread), prop bets, parlays, and much more. And I clearly do not understand any of this.

I am not much of a gambler. I remember sneaking into a casino to play a slot machine when I was an underage kid. I remember the thrill of hearing all the electronic noises, watching the flashing lights, and watching all kinds of people acting like they were having the times of their lives.

Years later, I visited Las Vegas on my 21st birthday and stood by a craps table. I had no clear understanding of what was happening, but the action on the Pass Line drew my attention. Eventually I got the nerve to drop five dollars of my hard-earned money on the felt below. What happened? Within a few seconds I doubled my money. Soon after, I doubled my money again. I wanted to pick up the sudden windfall, cash in my chips, and run to the snack bar, but no! I had to continue. The next player threw craps and I lost everything. I suddenly felt compelled to start over and drop another five dollars onto the felt. Of course, I lost again. Thank goodness I had no credit cards back then or I would have been in deep trouble.

Walking away, I felt worse than stupid. Why had I lost all my money? It made no sense; I considered myself a fairly normal person with strong convictions when it came to knowing the difference between right and wrong. Somehow, I had clearly experienced a moment of confusion, of weakness.

I guess I’m a little old fashioned. Sure, I would love to live in a huge mansion with an infinity pool and a super-charged sports coupe parked in the driveway. I would love to have an endless flow of money coming in. Going on trips around the world, giving away millions to charities... but I know all of it is a fantasy, a pipe dream. My parents told me that good things only come as a direct result of hard work and dedication.

And I admit to the stark truth: I don’t have the talent and demeanor for gambling, and the whole concept scares me. I can clearly see how addictive it can be—the thrill of easy money, toying with the concept of luck, and desperately wanting to win back losses. 

It all reminds me of the classic Twilight Zone episode in which a middle-aged couple is visiting Reno. The unfortunate husband in the tale becomes obsessed with a particular casino slot machine. The man simply cannot stop feeding coins into the hungry machine and repeatedly pulling the handle. The obsession worsens to the point that the man somehow hears the machine calling out his name over and over again.

I suppose gambling in one way or another is part of our lives:

• Actuaries chart life expectancies to mitigate risk when it comes to issuing insurance.

• Banks gamble that your mortgage or car loan will be repaid.

• Warranty companies gamble on whether your car will need major repairs.

• Incentive companies gamble that you will either forget to use your gift cards or just let them expire.

Gambling is also a personal choice:

• We can dabble in commodities, speculating on the future rise or fall of pork bellies or cotton.

• We can purchase stock options, betting on the financial performance of publicly traded companies.

• And we can purchase a myriad of scratch games and lottery tickets in hopes of winning millions of dollars in easy money each time we visit a gas station or go to the supermarket.

And we can lose everything in the blink of an eye.

A recent commercial really jarred me. It was touting an app that allows the user to bet on seemingly anything, i.e., taking odds on the next Senate election, or that the national weather forecast will beat the Farmer’s Almanac prediction, or even whether or not I’ll remember our wedding anniversary next year.

Worse yet, this whole world of gambling can now be contained and managed inside the comfort of your cell phone.

I guess I’m missing out on everything, but I just don’t feel motivated to download a betting app that promises the opportunity of endless winnings. Besides, who has the time and inclination to start learning all this? 

For now, I’ll just continue slamming my television’s mute button every time a gambling commercial comes on.

And I’m confident that I’ll never succumb to the dare, the attraction, the excitement, and the sexiness of rolling the dice once again.

Wanna bet?