Brendan Sorsby: Second Thoughts
By Walter Mitchell
When I was a senior at Boston College in the fall of 1976, I lived with 9 other BC seniors in "The Big Red House" on the corner of South Street and Commonwealth Avenue.
At the time I was living paycheck to paycheck (including tips) while waiting tables as a restaurant called "Our House." I had taken out college loans and by the time I had paid for rent each month, I would have somewhere between $40-$80 to my name.
Two of our best friends in the house, Richie and Frodo, were sharing a bookie, and they were riding the red-hot Cincinnati Reds through the playoffs and then through their 4-game sweep over the New York Yankees in the World Series --- and before long --- they were cruising around Comm Ave, in matching new Mazda convertibles.
Their winning streak was also a boon to us at the house in that for four straight Saturday nights in October, they were treating all of our friends to elaborate keg parties. Word around the BC campus would travel quickly --- "Five kegger tonight at The Big Red House."
I had to work on Saturday nights, but by the time I made it home at around 1 am, the parties were still booming.
Richie and Frodo's next hot streak came when each Saturday they consulted a friend of a friend who was a College Football expert at picking the best "surest thing" spread of the week.
It was like clockwork --- 5 Saturdays in a row --- more Saturday night keg parties and this time other guys in the house were paying for the kegs because Richie and Frodo had given them the "best bet" intel.
By the fifth win a row, everyone in the house was betting $500 on the best bet. Everyone, except me.
Like I said, I had an average of $65 a week to my name. But Richie and Frodo assured me that I could quit my job and focus all of my attention to partying, while some occasional homework for my classes. Going to BC, after all, was my day job.
Wouldn't you just know it? I succumbed to the temptation and bet $500 on South Carolina to cover the +24 spread over heavily favored LSU. By the time I left for work, South Carolina and LSU were tied 17-17 at halftime and my housemates had already ordered the 5 kegs.
When I returned at 1 am, the party seemed less rowdy than normal. Richie pulled me aside and asked, "Did you hear?" "No, what?" I asked. "South Carolina lost 42-17."
I started freaking out --- Frodo told me I need to pay the $500 by 6 pm Monday afternoon or I would be receiving a visit from Rocco and Moose. "The only other choice you have is to go double or nothing on an NFL game tomorrow. We're doing that, we are taking the Giants as 3-point favorites at home over the Cowboys."
Something told me not to trust Richie and Frodo ever again. So, when I saw the Falcons were 28-point underdogs versus the 49ers, I took the Falcons.
What I hadn't considered, torture-wise, was picking a game in the 4 pm slot. Meanwhile the Giants won the early game by 10 and everyone was breathing an enormous sigh of relief.
Next thing I knew, the 49ers were kicking the Falcons' asses something fierce.
I was contemplating driving home to Connecticut and going into hiding until I could rob a bank or something.
But the Falcons scored late in the 4th quarter to cut the lead to 24! I could win!
Except, the 49ers, who could have simply run out the clock, kept the pedal on the metal and scored a TD to go up 31 with 1 minute to go. I was screaming in agony so loud that I was seeing stars.
Some of you may know the kind of desperation and suffocating pressure one feels when one knows he's about to lose the proverbial ranch.
Leave it Lee Trevino to understand such a desperate emotion --- one year, when he was leading the Masters in Augusta after three rounds, he was asked about how well he could handle the pressure of sleeping on the lead--- and Trevino didn't waste any time --- he said,
"Pressure? This ain't no pressure (guffaw lol)! Pressure is playing a 5-dollar Nassau with 3 dollars in your pocket."
On the last play of the game, the Falcons attempted a 60-yard Hail Mary and somehow it landed into the outstretched hands of Billy White-Shoes Johnson who adeptly managed to drag his toes into the end zone.
Moments earlier, I had sworn to myself and all of the gods above that I would never make a single bet ever again...if only...
It's quite possible that I owe everything I have today to Billy White Shoes Johnson.
I am proud to say that I have remained good to my solemn vow. I don't even play the Lottery.
Having recalled this life lesson today while listening to Mike Florio's interview with Brendan Sorsby's agent Rob Slavin, I have vowed to look deeper into Brendan Sorsby's situation --- because --- while some would argue, you made only one bet, Mitch, and Sorsby made thousands and he even bet on his own team albeit when he was not on the traveling roster ---
My answer is --- I actually had to make TWO bets to avoid what could have been turned out to be thousands more bets ---
The fine line to an addiction to gambling is that precarious. Especially for college students.
Here's the Pro Football Talk interview. I was fascinated by what both Mike Florio and Rob Slavin had to say.
https://youtu.be/QvZ7x3G_dr0?si=EhWSv_DF20lYRGX6
I came away from this interview feeling as if Brendan Sorsby deserves a decent and merciful chance to redeem himself.
I got very lucky when I was his age.
That's something I hadn't quite remembered regarding Soresby's plight, until today.
So, just as I was about to press "Publish", this news flash came over the wire:
The NFL doesn't have a problem with gambling — they LOVE that you gamble, they make billions off of it. What they have is a fall guy problem. Instead of seeing a 22-year-old kid who recognized he had a mental health issue, checked himself into treatment, and I trying to turn his life around, they saw an opportunity to make an example and they cancelled an entire draft to shut the door in his face. You want to talk about integrity? Integrity would've been sitting down with this kid, reviewing his case properly in the months they had, and giving him a real path forward. Instead they hid behind a CBA clause and a filing deadline. The NFL profits off gambling addiction every single Sunday. The least they could do is help rehabilitate one of the kids affected.
ReplyDeleteBingo!
DeleteNFL must believe they couldn’t make millions off the kid like they do with gambling. Goes against one of their revenue streams to have an example/ player in their league that addiction to gambling is real.
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