Al the bookie was a short, heavyset man in his 60s whose Old Spice cologne seemed to arrive before he did. He spoke mostly in whispers through broken English, sharply dressed as if he were attending a funeral every day.
I’d meet with him once a week to talk about the point spread of upcoming sporting events, mostly professional and college football games. Making eye contact with Al was a bad bet. He was always staring at anything but me when we spoke.
Al would wander over to my family’s restaurant, Uncle’s, in downtown Chesterton, or I would wander over to his favorite bar, Flannery’s Tavern. Our covert meetings took place more than 25 years ago when the highlight of my long work week in the food business was betting on sporting events.
I didn’t have much money to blow, less than $50 a week, but it was exciting to place my bets through Al, who described himself as a retired businessman “just trying to get by.”
He got by with a lot of help from me, a young, novice gambler who haphazardly studied point spreads each week in the newspapers. This was long before the internet became a daily part of our lives.
In between serving customers I searched for key injuries to players, and the over-under lines for games, as well as any other figures I could find. It didn’t help. I rarely won.
Al made money off me but I didn’t mind too much. I simply wanted my skin in the game.
As a sports junkie since childhood, the only thing more exciting than watching a game is betting on it. Gambling adds a personal element to any game, especially games that would be otherwise boring or irrelevant. And I loved placing my meager bets through Al, who was always trustworthy and who never ducked me when I won.
“Relax, I’ve got your money,” he would tell me with a smirk.
The money was rewarding but not as rewarding as winning, if that makes sense. It was allure of winning that kept me coming back for more each week, not the paltry amount of money I occasionally won. Al knew this. That’s how he made his money from suckers like me.
I immediately thought of Al last week when I read that the U.S. Supreme Court struck down the Professional and Amateur Sports Protection Act, a 25-year federal ban outlawing sports betting outside of Nevada.
The ruling essentially opened the gates for legalized gambling in New Jersey and other states. Hopefully this will someday include Indiana.
Nearly 20 other states have already introduced bills that could legalize sports betting, and a dozen other states could follow suit in the next five years, according to a 2017 report from Eilers & Krejcik Gaming.
Americans illegally wager between $50 billion to $150 billion annually, according to various sources, including the American Gaming Association. My bet is that it’s closer to $150 billion, based on how addictive it is to wager money on sporting events.
Indiana casino operators are already licking their chops while working on the business framework to cater to legal wagering. Indiana lawmakers have already established a summer study committee to explore possible legislation to make this a reality in the Hoosier state.
I applaud the Supreme Court’s landmark ruling, which will bring gambling out of the closet and into the spotlight. We may not like what we see but at least we can place our bets away from the shadows of secrecy and stigmatization.
States can soon offer the same betting options as other Nevada-based sportsbooks, experts say, including wagers on professional and college sports. These wagers could include single-game betting, over-under bets, and “prop betting,” which allows gamblers to wager money on all sorts of things beyond a game’s final score.
I enjoyed doing this through Al the bookie. I usually didn’t care who won a certain game, but instead how my prop bets turned out. For example, if a chosen player scores a touchdown or makes a certain number of strikeouts.
Al always told me it was a “sucker’s bet,” but I couldn’t resist.
“Every bet is a sucker’s bet,” I would tell Al.
He knew it was true. His retirement livelihood depended on it.
That’s why Al was confident that sports gambling would someday be legalized in our state, and in other states outside of Nevada. He repeatedly told me this.
“It would kill my business but I would love to see it happen,” Al said.
Al died years ago. He’ll never see it happen in Indiana. Most of us will, though. I’m convinced of this.
Most states will eventually jump on board, citing the lucrative revenue stream as another cure-all for state and municipal budgets. (See the initial support by local lawmakers for casino boats in Northwest Indiana.)
Lawmakers on the fence will sooner or later rationalize their decision by saying illegal gambling is already taking place in their state, and if they don’t legalize it, gamblers will simply take their money to nearby states. Similar to when Hoosier gamblers used to make a pilgrimage into Illinois to buy scratch-off lottery tickets, as my father did each week.
“This is the golden ticket, sonny boy,” my dad would say while feverishly scratching ticket after ticket.
State lawmakers are now whispering the same thing to each other about legalizing the golden ticket of sports betting. Yes, even in Indiana, where financial security trumps moral superiority.
Our conservative state, led by mostly conservative legislators, has at times been challenged by cultural changes but that won’t happen with sports betting. dollare signs are far too tempting. That’s why Indiana will legalize sports betting, likely sooner than later.
You can bet on it.