2002 - I was in Vegas, pretty drunk, lost, and wondering up to a Roulette table. After a few Green 00 losses, I look up to my right and see D-Backs juiceball Louis Gonzales. Not wanting to be that guy, I keep throwing my $5 chips on numbers and don’t initiate any resemblance of a conversation with Mark McGwire-lite. So, Gonzo continues to bitch my $5 bets with $25 and $100 bets on the same numbers I am playing. Then, as I lay yet another chip on Black 17, I turn to Gonzo and say “Come ON Gracie, you gotta hit!” (In reference to Mark Grace, my favorite hometown Cub, and Gonzo’s then current Arizona teammate). He once again bitches my $5 bet, throws a $100 on the 17, loses, looks at me and says “Gracie hasn’t hit all year.”
Here’s “Burt”:
So, it’s the summer after I graduate college. During my first month home, there was a party thrown at the local golf course. I was invited, and since my town has more cattle than people, I was obviously free for the day. The party was really 18 holes of golf and then a cocktail party afterward with about 40 or so people showing up. We began drinking around 2:00pm when we first teed off and continued until the party ended at around 9:00pm.
After people began to leave, two of my buddies suggested that we head to a local bar. Being fresh out of college, I was used to throwing back copious amounts of alcohol. Thus, I obliged and headed to the local bar. This trip ended up becoming a semi-bar crawl, with us hitting up 3 or 4 bars throughout our town until about 1:30 in the morning. At this point, it may be important to let you know that my friends and I are all degenerate gamblers. Each of us has won and lost more than $1000 dollars in a single day, and if you polled us each separately, we would probably all answer that gambling was one of our favorite three things to do in life.
Anyway, at this point in the night (early morning?), someone suggests that we head to the casino about 30 miles down the road… Done. So we all hop in a car and drive down to the boat. Now, keep in mind, that I had been drinking since roughly 12 hours ago. Additionally, at some point during the party, I decided that regular Jack and Coke’s weren’t getting the job done, so I switched to doubles.
We arrive at the casino and immediately get separated. I mumble something about needing to use the restroom (I think?), and this is where my night gets really hazy. I have absolutely no idea what exactly went down. I just have multiple “brownouts” where I remember things like being in a ballroom, a room with a lot of pipes, and at some point, I think I was on top of the boat. Anyway, I finally find the bathroom.
After relieving myself, I head down to the casino floor. Because I was right out of school, I had yet to begin my job, so I was broke. Amazingly, my $25 did not take me far, and I was only able to play for a little over an hour. Once I lose my cash, I walk around the boat until I meet my friends at the craps table. Although I’m out of cash, they allow me to throw the dice for them because they want to stay a little longer.
Just as we’re about to leave, a casino employee comes up to us. He asks me, “Are you Burt Bulger?” Immediately, I become sticken with fear. “Oh no,” I thought. “They have my old fake ID on file and matched the two names and figured out we have the same birthday, but three years apart with different addresses.”
Unfortunately, I was wrong. They haul me down to the lower reaches of the boat for a little interrogation. At this point, I’m still pretty hammered, but I’m starting to wake up due to the adrenaline factor. Apparently, in my drunken stupor searching for the facilities, I wandered into some secure room that is not normally allowed for patron access. They have me on video tape stumbling around and now think I’m hacking into their security system. Here is some of the conversation I remember:
Casino Employee (CE): “What do you do?”
Me: “I just graduated.”
CE: “Oh yeah, what was your major?”
Me: “IT.”
CE (to another employee): “Hey Bob, this guy’s an IT major. Listen Burt, we know what you were doing down there. And, we know you know what you were doing down there. Why don’t you just spill it?”
This question leads to a long back and forth with me basically telling the guys I had no idea what I was doing.
Me: “I’m not sure what you saw on the tape, but trust me, I wasn’t trying to break into your system. I got lost looking for the bathroom because I was really, really hammered.”
CE: “Look son, if you were that drunk, we wouldn’t have let you in the front door.”
Me: “Obviously not.”
Wrong thing to say. This leads to my two friends being brought down and interrogated. After finally coming to the conclusion that I am not, in fact, Danny Ocean, they take me picture and make me sign a piece of paper. I’m now banned from the casino for life and will be arrested for trespassing if I ever set foot on their property again. In addition to that, they won’t let any of us drive home (too drunk), so we have to wait for another friend to drive 40 minutes to come pick us up at 5:00 in the morning. Awesome casino trip.
Reader Cheery Grouch writes in:
Attached is a photo (click to enlarge) of my bad beat from February 3rd. I don’t know if it really qualifies, but it sure was heart-wrenching. As you can see, I had 4 out of 5 and the Wild Card. It paid $500, which was nice. 5 out of 5 would have been $380,000. Goddamnit.
Here’s reader Jason:
Every year, a group of my high school friends and I attend a University of Iowa football road game. We all grew up in Iowa and are die-hard Hawkeye fans. In 2004, Iowa played Arizona State in Tempe, so naturally, this was the game we picked to attend. I had just moved to Vegas a couple months prior and a number of my friends were going to fly into Vegas to spend a couple of days, and then we would drive down to Tempe. As we were leaving Vegas, we stopped at a sports book and I placed a $550 (to win $500) wager on the game to go under 47.5. The day of the game, Iowa looked like they wanted to be anywhere but on the field against ASU. Andrew Walter looked like he was a Heisman trophy candidate and the halftime score was 27-0. Things didn’t get any better in the second half, and my crew left the stadium mid-way through the fourth quarter with Iowa losing 44-0. The Hawkeyes were going to get beat, but I still had a chance to win my bet.
My friends and I got back to our tailgate spot, recommenced drinking and listened to the game on the radio. Neither offense was doing much during mop-up time in the fourth quarter until ASU put together a couple of first downs and moved the ball to mid-field with about a minute left in the game. I started getting a little nervous, but ASU’s drive stalled and they were forced to punt with 30 seconds left in the game. Once I heard the announcer say the punter got the punt away I turned to one of my friends and said “Iowa may have gotten rolled, but at least I won my bet.” Iowa would get the ball and run one fullback dive to kill the clock. Unfortunately, I didn’t take into account Walner Belleus.
Belleus was a juco transfer that was supposed to be Iowa’s next great defensive back. He wasn’t. He played one season at Iowa and never did anything remarkable. Except one play against Arizona State. Belleus took the punt at his own 17 and proceed to turn into Forrest Gump by taking the punt 83 yards for a touchdown. Belleus crossed the goal line with 18 seconds left to make the score ASU 44 Iowa 7. 3.5 points over the total. Damn you Walner Belleus.
From Maury:
Nine-team parlay, closing to the Grizzlies plus 6.5 against the clippers. $5 pays $1034. Griz down 4 with 10 seconds left and the griz have possession coming out of a timeout. Griz miss a 3 pointer but grab the rebound with 6 seconds left. Griz player throws the ball away with 5 seconds remaining. Even though the Griz are locked into the 8th seed in the playoff standings, they decide to foul with 5 seconds left. Randy Foye makes the first free-throw. He then misses the second and a Griz players appears to grab the rebound. However, Blake Griffin wrestles the rebound away with 2 ticks left.
He pauses beneath the basket while the Griz players stand by looking as though they thought Blake would now run out the clock. Instead, with one second remaining Blake decides to throw up a layup that hits the front of the rim, but he then tips in the miss as the buzzer sounds. Clippers win by 7. To add insult to injury…I bet the parlay in the morning but the spread moved to Clippers -8 by the start of the game. To add further insult to injury, the play-by-play guy announced that Blake’s final tip-in rebound gave him his second triple-double of the season. Thanks, Blake. Hope it was worth it.
Shyam:
Set the scene: I’m 22 or 23 and not far out of college. I had a full on gambling problem…routinely hitting online gambling limits of 3-5k a bet for as random games as you can think of, and selling shares from my stock account to cover losses and gamble even more. I would bet $300 (the max) on “will a run score in the 1st inning” on a 1pm baseball game just to keep work interesting, and tell my coworkers about it so they could share in my joy or sadness.
For some reason, I bet on the Padres against the Dodgers in a September 2006 baseball game. I really don’t remember why anymore…something about it must have made it interesting (probably Jake Peavy going against Brad Penny, I’m sure the juice was in favor of Peavy). Both had about the same record, and I bet my $4k on the Padres.
I don’t even like baseball. I wouldn’t watch any of the baseball games I bet on, but would check in on the gamecast to see how things were going. This game was 9-5 going into the 9th inning, and I’m just about ready to celebrate before going to dinner with my folks. Decided to kill time and check out the bottom of the 9th.
Well, this happened. Back-to-back-to-back-to-back home runs (I don’t even know if I got the number of Backs right, but you get the point). 2 home runs in a row from the Dodgers, and then Trevor Hoffman comes in. I’m thinking it’s over, he’ll get the outs. Instead he gives up 2 more home runs! The Dodgers tie the game. This is $4k that I could see flashing in front of my eyes, a huge amount of money for me and the reason I say I had a problem…no way I should have been betting that much. I’m shaking in my desk chair, and cursing everyone and everything I know. After this the Padres finally close the inning without losing, a minor miracle in itself.
10th inning starts and the Padres eke out a run. But once you get hit with this kind of bad beat, you know it’s not meant to be. There’s nothing to celebrate in a one run lead after blowing a 4 run lead. Sure enough, in the bottom of the 10th Nomar Garciaparra of all people steps up and blasts a 2 run homer to end it. Hanging my head in shame and anger, and then I have to go eat dinner with my parents and pretend like I didn’t just lose $4k on 4 straight home runs.
Michael writes in:
In January of 2009, I was a mere staff writer at SBN mixed martial arts blog Bloody Elbow. (Today I’m a mere editor of that same site.) UFC lightweight champ B.J. Penn was scheduled to meet welterweight king Georges St. Pierre in a superfight for St. Pierre’s title at UFC 94. Penn and St. Pierre had met once before at UFC 58, a fight St. Pierre won in a close, controversial decision.
St. Pierre opened as a 2-1 favorite for the second fight, and the Fightlinker blog wondered if any MMA writer had “the balls” to bet on the smaller Penn. As a self-described gambling expert and Penn mark, I issued a challenge to Fightlinker and offered a cross-site wager. They accepted, and agreed upon terms: should Penn win, Fightlinker would have to eat an entire pig’s foot; should GSP win, I would have to down an entire bottle of syrup, Super Troopers-style. (Stereotypes are fun.)
The narrative of the fight emerged shortly after the opening bell: St. Pierre was too big and had improved too much for the 168-pound Penn. Penn’s corner put the kibosh on the fight after twenty minutes of punishment; their fighter looking wobbled and glassy-eyed while preparing for the fifth round.
If consuming an entire bottle of syrup wasn’t painful enough, I made the mistake of purchasing butter-infused maple syrup. I felt like I was chugging quicksand.
Video was recorded for posterity. I fired up Super Troopers to provide the mood (and the contrast of them drinking iced tea in the movie is apparent), and placed a small jar of Vaseline on the entertainment center to symbolize the greasing scandal in the wake of the bout. You can see my mental break around the 1:45 mark. My head nods forward, syrup flying from my lips like a boxer’s saliva after receiving a stiff jab to the face. I make the curious decision to wipe my pants and lick my fingers.
I make one last effort to finish the bottle, but tap out poetically 4/5ths of the way into the bottle.
Ponies edition, from Donnie_Iris:
About 15 years ago I attended a bachelor party at Mountaineer Park in West Virginia. The plan was to spend the evening wagering on the ponies and then visit a strip club near the track. I was a recent college graduate and was doing an unpaid internship. Even though I was broke, the lure of a drunken night gambling in West Virginia (complete with strippers!) seemed too seedy to pass up.
I had never been to the horse races before and had absolutely no knowledge of how to place bets or pick horses. This did not stop me from doing so, but it did prevent me from winning anything. By the 6th or 7th race of the night, I had already visited the ATM twice to withdraw money that I couldn’t afford to lose and was once again down to my last $10 bill. Using typical bad gambler logic, I attempted a sucker’s bet to win it all back at once.
I took a walk over to this area where they paraded the horses that were making their way out to the track. I thought maybe seeing the horses up close would give me some kind of edge at picking out a long shot. I studied the race form and the name of a 50-1 horse jumped off the sheet at me. Of course, now I can’t remember what the name was. I recall it being something with the word “candy” in it and it was also a song title. Maybe “I Want Candy” or “Candy Everybody Wants”. In retrospect, betting on a Bow Wow Wow or 10,000 Maniacs title probably shouldn’t have swayed my decision, but regardless I wanted to see what this horse looked like. I stood next to this parade area and out trotted my long shot. As it went past me, I swear to God the fucking horse stopped and looked me right in the eye. That was the sign I was looking for! This was my horse.
I decided to place two bets. Seven bucks for this beast to win and a $3 trifecta with this horse leading the way followed by the two race favorites. We decided to make this the last race of the night before we retreated to the nudie bar, so we made our way track side to stand along the railing near the front stretch. It had rained off and on most of the night, so the track was pretty sloppy. I was excited because the only time this horse had ever placed was on a muddy track. My long shot was a mudder!
Race starts and it’s a pretty slow pace. You can tell that the horses were struggling with the mud. Since we were standing track side, it made it difficult to tell the horses apart on the back stretch. We relied on the race announcer to keep us posted and at no time did I hear him say the word “candy”. As the horses rounded the last turn, my eyes popped out of me head as three of them broke away from the pack including my long shot. As they raced toward the finish line, Candy pulled to the outside and started to take the lead. This stupid 90s pop-hit-of-a-horse was about to win me a couple hundred bucks. I started screaming. As they got closer, I saw the two horses trailing my long shot were the horses I needed to place and show in order to hit my trifecta. Holy fucking shit… I was about to be rich (or as least as rich as a $3 trifecta can make a guy). I went insane, jumping up and down and clutching my ticket as the horses came near.
I swear to God, I thought I saw that fucking horse look over at me again. As he did, his front leg slipped in the mud and buckled underneath him. I thought I heard something crack. Ten feet from the finish line my long shot lay in a pile, the jockey thrown off its back. I stood in total shock as the rest of the herd thundered past him, rendering my ticket worthless.
As the horse lay there, they pulled out a big white screen to shield him from the spectators and euthanized him right on the track. I think I yelled something like, “Killing’s too good for you, you fucking loser!”. Affirmed.
The worst part was yet to come. I had to go to a West Virginia strip club penniless and sober.
I have played online poker for about 4 years now. I’ve played on a bunch of different sites. All have different graphics, different promotions, different players but there is one constant, me getting boned in the rear. I’m not talking just any kind, it’s no lube prison rape status. I always shared my stories with my friends that played poker but they never seemed to believe all the stories of my “bad beats” because there were so many of them. Well the other day i discovered the “Screen Print” key on my computer that allows you to take a picture of your computer screen and save it. That was just a few days ago and here is a nice picture that sums up my online poker career. I flopped the nuts, but he flopped a gigantic elephantitis pair of nuts right on my face. Welcome to my life. (Bryce)
Following an offseason of confusion after the Buccaneers’ head coach Tony Dungy was fired, Jon Gruden rides in to lead the team to their first (and probably only) Super Bowl appearance in SB 37 against the Raiders. As San Diego is way too far a road trip for poor college kids in Tampa, we head to a local watering hole that always throws a huge party. The place has a few “square pools” running, with various denominations. Feeling a little lucky, I get into one for $50… a lot of beer money back then. When the numbers are picked, I end up with 1 and 1. Maybe there’s a shot at a quarter or halftime being tied at 21, but I’ve got no shot at winning the big $2500 game-end pot with those numbers! Time to just get soused.
Fast forward to about 30 seconds left in the game. The scoreboard reads 41-21. The Bucs have doused their new coach in Gatorade. The bar has gone bonkers with an upcoming win that not only rights the offseason confusion, but erases the pain of 25 years of franchise futility. Me, well I’m pleasantly drunk, mentally counting that $2500 that’s about to be put in my hand. I order about $100 worth of shots for all my buddies (no big deal for a broke college kid that’s about to have 25 portraits of Ben Franklin dropped in his lap). I turn back to the TV to continue laughing at poor Rich Gannon, still trying to do SOMETHING— even with only 5 seconds left.
Suddenly, someone catches Rich Gannon’s last pass of the game- Buccanneers defender Dwight Smith. He heads towards the sideline and off towards the endzone. The bar is going nuts, everyone is cheering, it’s just the icing on the cake. Me, I’m screaming- for someone to tackle that guy before he scores. SOMEONE PLEASE STOP HIM!!! I hang my head as nobody stops Dwight Smith before he tacks another 7 on the board as time runs out. Final score: 48-21. I lose. Fans pour out into the street to really get the party started… which makes it really easy for our waitress to hand me a tab that sends my measly checking account well into overdraft protection without that extra cash.
Insult to injury- the guy who falls into the big pot buys me a shot- one tiny little shot of well liquor to soothe my loss. I can’t decide who I hate more- him or Dwight Smith. (Jimbo)
You want to talk bad beats? There is a reason why I will never again get in on a Super Bowl square pool (even if someone paid for me).
Super Bowl XXXIII Denver/Atlanta. I’m working in the stock market at the time in Chicago. A buddy of mine and I are having a pretty good run on the job and want to get in on one of the larger “pit pools” for the big game. 5K a square. 250K final. Simple as that. BIG MONEY (but that is the name of the game down there). We split the entry with a 50/50 split if we win. A lot of money in the end. We end up with 4 (Denver) and 0 (Atlanta) - and now you know pretty much how this ends.
Atlanta scores late in the 4th to make it 34-19 with 2 minutes left. All we need is an extra point, Denver kills the clock - and we’re booking our tickets to Vegas to celebrate.
You have no idea how much I hate 2 point conversions. (Slugs)
In 2005 my brother and I got into betting on sports online while in college. It’s such a sketchy process to sign up for these sites hosted off-shore. You needed to transfer money from your bank account to some 3rd party wire transfer company, because a respectable bank like Wachovia does not allow you to hand your money over to a betting web site. It requires your SSN and the whole process is a pain to get set up, and you are at the mercy of some web site in Curacao or some fucking island like that.
Anyway, I scan the lines for the week and my eyes suddenly filled with dollar signs. They posted a line in the Oklahoma/Oklahoma State game, and Oklahoma was listed as 21 point UNDERDOGS instead of them obviously being the favorites. The Sooners went 8-4 that year and Oklahoma State went 4-7. The game was IN NORMAN. So the Sooners were listed as 21 point underdogs at home to a shitty OKlahoma State team. This was Matthew Lesko-esque freeeeeee money as far as we were concerned.
We sank as much money as we could into our accounts (a couple grand, poor college kids) and were already thinking about what to do with the money we were about to double.
And shortly after our bets were placed, they reversed the line and cancelled all bets place on the game. Apparently in the legalese and user agreement for the site, they had the right to cancel any bet they wanted to for whatever reason. This reason was because they were fucking dumb and gave the points for the wrong team.
So not only did our bets get cancelled, but there were fees to get money in and out of these accounts, so we both ended up losing a couple percentage points off of the large sum of money we invested and immediately needed to withdraw so we could pay for normal shit. So we lost money without actually participating in the bet.
The Sooners won 42-14, or 63-14 with the points they were initially given. Fuckers. (Michael S.)
Thursday, January 15th, 2009. College basketball was just hitting the first stretch of good conference action, and the Wisconsin Badgers were hosting the surprisingly decent Minnesota Golden Gophers. The Badgers were coming off an ugly (but expected) loss at Purdue - hosting a marginally-talented but ranked team seemed to be the perfect rebound game for Bo Ryan’s squad, and the line reflected it. I had built up a decent bankroll (I won’t embarrass myself by sharing the specific numbers, but more than the semester of textbooks I needed to purchase soon) through some shrewd online bets. I have followed the UW basketball team religiously since middle school, and knew without a doubt that this was a game which the Badgers simply never lose. I put the largest bet of my life on the home team without thinking twice - it was going to be the easiest money I’d ever made.
I made my way to the Kohl Center, and was feeling pretty damn good about myself with just under 5 minutes to go, the Badgers holding a 52 - 40 lead and my bank account seemingly holding a sizable advantage over the night before. The game was almost completely one sided up until this point - in one 11 minute first-half stretch, the Gophers managed to score exactly once. Then the shit hit the fan. Every single thing that the Badgers could fuck up, they did. Completely forget how to break the press - check. Allow Lawrence Westbrook to score at will - check. Try to go for the fast-break layup with 40 seconds left and a four point lead instead of running down the clock - check . By the time overtime rolled around half of the stadium had left, and Wisconsin was on the losing side of a 78 - 74 decision that really wasn’t that close (Minnesota scored the first 7 points in overtime).
There is /nothing/ worse than a gut-punch game like that, and losing two months’ alcohol funds made it that much worse. I went home, drank most of a bottle of Jim Beam, and burned my ticket stub in the bathtub (briefly lighting my shower curtain on fire).
The lesson here? Don’t bet on your favorite team. Karma truly is a bitch - the Badgers lost their next four games, and I had to be sober for them. (Sam)
This one still hurts today.
May of 1999, my Philadelphia Flyers have botched a 3-1 series lead in the ECF and it is now game 7. Friend of mine is to having his wedding this day/night. With the thought of not watching this game looming I was assured a TV would be there and it was, right at the bar. free booze and game 7, perfect. As I destroy my liver w vodka 2 hours before the game I am deciding how much am I gonna ‘wager’. Every instinct in my body says “take the devils, if they win I’ll have money in my pocket and if the Flyers win it is Stanley cup time!” Well, alcohol seems to make you do stupid things, eh. 2 dimes on the Fly guys ! Lauren Hart/Kate smith rendition of God Bless America to start the game!?!? Can’t lose right!?
Lindros, goes to la la land again via Stevens, again. NJ is up 1-0. Flyers tie it. Now 3rd period and Patrick ‘cocksucker’ Elias scores with just over a minute to go. See ya money, see ya trip to the finals.
Now as I ‘dini’ the reception I walk home and I use that term walk lightly. I pass out on a neighbors lawn having grass all over my 3 piece cream white suit.
Off to the cleaners I go an hour later telling the gentleman behind the counter I need the grass removed from my suit, please. He asked me, “how get grass on nice suit?” My response, “fucking Flyers, that’s how!” (ska)
I forget when this was, I guess 4 to 5 years ago, whenever the first World Baseball Classic was. The tournament was running at the same time as the March Madness tourney. Per usual, my friends and I take off from work, get beers, tree, and our online betting accounts ready for the college hoops. I bet a few single games, 50 dollars here and there on maybe 3 or 4 teams, nothing huge. I had about 6 bucks left in my online betting site account and I decide to use it for a 9 team parlay. The parlay consisted of all ncaa hoops games, overs, unders, money lines, point spreads etc. Throughout the course of the day, I realize that I am hitting EVERY one of these games in the parlay. Trying to remember but it was like 6 bucks to win 800 plus, close to a grand. Anyway, the last bet in my parlay was the USA vs Mexico World Baseball Classic Game. The USA was a 5 to 1 favorite on the money line. I just figured to add it to the end of the parlay to get better odds, it was the biggest shoe in of the parlay. What happens? The USA remembers they don’t give a shit about the WBC and they lose 1-0 to the Mexicans. At the time, winning close to a grand was huge. What am I thinking, winning close to a grand now is huge! Tough loss. (Todd)
September 1997 / Oklahoma @ California / Line: Cal -4.5
On a sunny Fall day in September, I arrive at Memorial Stadium with my friend Casey. I have Cal minus 4.5 points and feeling pretty confident about the wager. Cal comes out of the blocks rolling against a surprisingly poor 1997 Sooners team and by halftime Cal is up 28-0. Casey turns to me and says, “You are only giving 4.5!? This one is in the bag!”
Now any jinx is unforgivable in my mind, but a statement of victory before the second half has kicked off is downright blasphemy. I explain to Casey that he has jinxed the game and I will now lose the bet. He further taunts the Jinx Gods by stating that jinxes are bullshit and how I am an idiot if I am worried while up 4 TDs and laying 4.5.
Needless to say the tables turn quickly and Oklahoma takes the opening kickoff 80 yards for a quick score (28-7). I turn to Casey and he is still beaming with confidence. Cal muffs the kickoff and Oklahoma recovers the muff on a bounce and takes it to the house (28-14). Casey is now silent and starting to look concerned that he has really screwed up. The remainder of the half is a blur, but with about 2 minutes remaining, Oklahoma has completed the comeback and the score is tied at 34s. Casey has not said a word since the 2nd Oklahoma score.
Cal has the ball and drives inside Oklahoma’s 25 with less than 30 seconds on the clock. With time running out, they are content to settle for a field goal, which does not help me. Suddenly a miracle happens as Oklahoma crowds the line to defend against a dive designed to net 2 yards and set up the field goal kicker between the hash marks. The halfback shoots through the first level (as halfbacks are wont to do) and takes it for six (40-34).
As the crowd is going wild and I am smiling ear to ear, Casey finally exhales and says, “see, I told you are that jinxing nonsense is bullshit, you just won!” I cringe, rip him a new asshole and await the inevitable. Blocked extra point returned 98 yards for an Oklahoma 2pt conversion. Final score…Cal 40-36. (Z.D.)
While in college I was a pretty poor student and suffering from a long losing streak. I decided to put my last $50 on an exact margin of victory on a crappy Thursday night game between the Lions and Vikings (I think Cris Carter made his 1000th career reception this night). Anyway I felt like the Vikes would win in the range of 14-16. It was a good 10-1 shot. Anyway, up 7 in the 4th, Robert Smith breaks lose a big TD run putting the margin at 14. I was sitting pretty - $500 would have covered a whole semester of crappy beer and fast food. In garbage time the great Stoney Case puts up a quasi hail mary that is clearly caught inbounds near the goal line. Too may elation, the refs ruled the pass out of bounds. I thought I had dodged a crushing defeat. Well……. On the next f***ing play the Lions run the same hail mary only this time it’s caught for the garbage time TD.
It’s bad enough I lost that bet, but now I have to remember for the rest of my life who Stoney Case was. (P. Sylvester)
Here’s mine. I used to think mine was the worst (who doesn’t) but have read some pretty good ones from your site so far. And not that it needs mentioning but my story is 100% true.
I’m a long time bettor, probably going on 16 years now and this is by far my worst beat ever. So it’s a Monday night game about, I don’t know, 10 or so years ago with Pittsburgh at Jacksonville. I’m a die hard Steelers fan and normally i don’t like to bet on my team but I guess this night I made an exception. The spread in the game was Jacksonville -3.5. I put $300 on the Steelers. Now i realize that $300 isn’t a huge amount of money with respect to a gambling story but it’s all realitive. Considering my net worth at the time (I was a 24 year old student), it would be the equivilant if Donald Trump laid $100,000,000 on the Steelers. So the score is 23-21 Jacksonville with under a minute to play and Pittsburgh driving. I’m praying that Jacksonville doesn’t get a bugs bunny TD for the cover. FYI, bugs bunny TDs are what my buddy and I call those end of game TDs that lead to game being covered or going over the number and they are usually of the pick six and fumble recovery variety. Back to my bad beat. So again it’s 23-21 Jacksonville now with under 10 seconds to go. If memory serves i think it was either four or six seconds left. Pittsburgh is now lining up for a 40 or so yard game winning field goal. My thinking is, if Pittsburgh makes it, sweet. I win my bet and my favourite team wins. If they miss the field goal, oh well. At least I still win my bet. Well what happens, of course it’s blocked and returned for a touchdown. Game over. Make the final Jacksonville 29-21. I feel violently ill at this point. That was quite possibly the absolute worst thing that could’ve happend. A $630 swing in my finances. And what topped it off was my dad (who i hide the fact that i gambled from) called two seconds after the game and left a message laughing at what just happendin the game. Of course he had no idea how sick i felt at that moment. (Greg M.)
I will never bet the lions again. I had a 7 team 20 dollar parlay 3 early games 4 late games Cardinals +110, Texans +8, Dolphins +11, late games Titans +180, Chargers +190, Panthers +12.5, and the Lions +10.5. All the early games came through all of my late games are close but looking good panthers lose by 10 one down three to go chargers come back and win by one, two games left titans up 2 TD’s with like 2 minutes left all that’s left is the lions. The lions are down 5 with the ball so I do the dumbest thing I turn off the game and start heading over to the local casino to cash my ticket I’m thinking that they are down 5 with the ball with about a minute left there’s no way they can not cover this game. So I get to the casino give the ticket to the sports book guy he runs it through the machine and says its not a winner I say what are you talking about all the games should be over he runs it again still a loser I say look over the games he does. Then he says I see your problem you have Detroit on here I say yeah they were down 5 with the ball he says they lost by 12. I said how he said they threw an interception and Seattle ran it back for a touchdown to cover the game. I stood there looking dumbfounded I was already spending the money the ticket would’ve paid 2600 dollars. (Anthony W.)
Okay, you want bad beats. I’m a long-time bettor, and here are my two worst.
First, (this one tops them all I think), back in the early 90’s before Pete Carroll arrives at USC, they are a bad team, and they are +9 points on the road against Arizona State. Feeling that’s too many points for ASU to lay, I bet $300 on USC. Fast forward to the 4th quarter. USC is LEADING by 7 with 1:20 to go. At +9, my bet is a lock right?
Well, sit back and enjoy what happens next. USC coach John Robinson decides to back off on his pass rush, go into a prevent defense, and ASU marches down the field and ties the game with 14 seconds to go. What do I care? I’ve got USC at +9. So, we go to overtime. ASU gets the ball first and immediately scores a touchdown to take a 7 point lead. Now it’s USC’s turn. After a 6 yard gain on their first play from scrimmage, their QB decides to throw an out pattern to the right side. The ASU defender reads it, steps in front, and returns it for an 81 yard touchdown. ASU wins BY 13 and covers!!! Still hard to believe to this day!!
Here’s the second one. I have the Houston Astros with Roy Oswalt on the mound at the Pirates. This is sometime around 2002. $2250 to win $1500 which is a really, really big bet for me. It’s the Fox Saturday game of the week, and the Astros are up 8-2 going into the 9th inning. I am counting my money. They bring in some scrub reliever to mop up the game, and he actually gets the first two batters out. Let me repeat: HE GOT THE FIRST TWO BATTERS OUT!!! So, I’m up 8-2 with two outs in the bottom of the 9th, and the Pirates have no runners on base. Pat Meares, the Pirates .182 hitting shortstop then draws a walk, Orlando Merced gets a single, and the next two batters reach as well.
It’s now 8-3, and the Astros manager reluctantly strolls to the mound to bring in a new reliever. The new reliever promptly gives up 2 hits and a walk making it 8-5 with two runners on base. Now the Astros manager walks to the mound again, and signals with his left hand. Billy Wagner, who was half-heartedly warming up, never even dreaming he’d be called into the game, is now summoned to the mound and is thrust into a save situation. He promptly walks the first batter to load the bases, and Brian Giles, the pirates clean-up hitter steps up to the plate. He sends Wagner’s first pitch over the right field wall to give the Pirates a 9-8 win. Now, I’ve taken some really bad baseball beats in the past, but that one sticks out in my mind as being the worst. (Mike C.)
My bad beat story is about the first time I made the trip to Atlantic City . I was about a year out of college, working a crap job that didn’t pay a whole lot when a good friend of mine asked me if I wanted to go to Atlantic City . Seeing as how I’d never gone, I said yes. In my mind, I had the luck of being a first time gambler and couldn’t lose, as it was certainly my destiny to win big and never have to work again.
I took $500 with me, which is a nice chunk of change, but was definitely A LOT more money to me in 2003 than it is now. We got to AC at around 9 pm on a Saturday, and I proceed to the Blackjack tables, because Blackjack was supposed to be easy to win money playing. By 10 pm, I had no money left. I thought for sure I could get it back, so I went to the ATM and pulled out another $500. Between 10 pm and 11:30 pm, I proceeded to lose the second $500, bringing my losses to $1000. Being the first time I had played Blackjack, at this point I had just started to figure out “my system” to beat the casino and win my money back. My bank at the time allowed me to withdraw $500 every midnight to midnight time period, so I went back to the ATM. At precisely 12:01, I withdrew another $500, and went back to the tables to win my rent, car payment, insurance payment, student loan payment, and credit card payment back. My checking account balance after this withdrawal stood at exactly $38.92, but I knew I would be able to recoup my losses and get most if not all or more of my money back. I don’t think I have to tell you what happens next, but I played up and down (mostly down) for about 2 hours, and when I realized I only had $50 of the $1500 total withdrawal left, I stopped playing, and went to go find my friend, who proudly showed me the $1800 he had won playing poker over the last 5 hours while I lost damn near every penny I had.
At that point, I did what any self respecting young man who had just lost his ass would do: I spent my last $50 at the strip club. When I told my friend I was out of money and he would have to pay for gas, tolls, food, etc on the way home, he was kind about it. He even bought me a lap dance.
That loss crippled me financially for months, and it took me a long time to feel comfortable back in AC, or Vegas. Now when I go to gamble, I always tell that story to whomever I’m gambling with, and have them hold onto my wallet after I’ve taken out the money I know I can lose without setting me back. (Rob)
I got an unconventional story for Bad Beats as it involves me winning some money. But it also involves me cursing my favorite team, so that has to count for something right?
My story starts on a lovely day. June 18, 2006 to be exact. I was a fresh-faced 22 year old, and it was my first time in Vegas. The trip had been planned for months. The main purpose of the trip was so we could bet on like four World Cup games a day. But most remember that June for the Mavs-Heat NBA Finals. Now, I have a huge boner for the Mavs. And as luck would have it, the end of the finals was going to coincide with the start of my trip.
We arrive on the morning of Game 5. This game is pivotal as the Heat has tied the series and the Mavs really need to take this one on in Miami. Now, I should point out that I have a general rule to not bet on teams that I root for. I am to heavily involved to think rationally so I usually steer clear. But I’m in VEGAS. FOR THE FIRST TIME. What better way to bust that cherry than to make my first bet on my favorite team. I mean, they were clearly better than the Heat, so how could they lose, right. Right?
So I go to a few books and place a couple of bets. At one I take the Mavs +2, then at another I parlay the Mavs +3 and the over. I’m looking to make $200 on $50. I’m excited as hell. But I have this feeling that I have just done something disastrous. So, it’s game time and we head over to Ceasar’s to watch the game. It starts off well for the Mavs and by halftime they are up 51-43. So I decide to get frisky. I go put $30 on the 2nd half over. So, to recap I got $80 down to win about $300. That was a lot for a sheltered Southern Baptist kid who was used to putting 5 bucks in the squares pool at work. The rest is history. The Heat go on a run. But Dirk comes up money. Then D-Wade (FUCK YOU!!!) gets bailed out by the worst phantom call in Finals history and the Heat (or Bennett’s Kids as I like to call them) steal a 101-100 victory. But my misery only grows. I look down, and I have won ALL of my bets. I have $300 in tainted money. I broke my rule and now the Mavs have lost three straight. I have cursed my team and now hold cursed money.
Two days later, I watched the end of the epic collapse from the bottom of my 12th Jack & Coke. I vomited on the way back to the room. And I didn’t win one bet the rest of the trip…and 6 days later I went home and cried. (Jeff A.)
That I can remember this so vividly nearly five years later is testament to how painful this was, especially considering the massive quantities of alcohol I ingested to try to forget it.
It was December 4, 2004, and I was in my first semester of law school. Law school was stressful enough with our first exams only days away, but added to that was the stress of the holidays coming up and my student loan check from August running out. My check for next semester wasn’t going to show up for at least another month, and I was flat broke. Out in the real world before law school I had gotten used to getting paid twice a month, and to go from that to getting one giant check every few months wreaked havoc on my already lousy skills of budgeting. Rent was due Jan. 2, and I didn’t have it. Nor did I have money for the power bill, the cell phone bill, or my next credit card payment. I was FUCKED.
In October of 2004, a friend introduced me to the magical world of online sports betting. I deposited something like $50, and then went on an unimaginable hot streak. Everything I touched turned to gold. Eventually I had over a grand in my account, from an original $50. I never worried about my finances, because I figured that at any time I could cash out my online betting account and be sitting pretty. Well, supreme overconfidence, greed and whiskey conspired to make me lose over a thousand dollars on the NFL over one awful Thanksgiving weekend. It was a moronic rookie mistake. I saw how much money I had, I couldn’t lose, so why not swing for the fences?? So I went big on one game. And lost horribly. Then I panicked because I just lost half my bankroll, and frantically tried to make it back. I ended up in quicksand on one of the most hellacious losing streaks I’ve ever known to this day. In one weekend, I lost it all but about $20.
I was beyond devastated. To make it worse, I got my first overdraft notice from my checking account in the mail. After several days of very dark thoughts, I gathered myself. And on Friday morning Dec. 3, instead of studying for exams, I ground out a list of pro and college football and basketball games that I liked. I picked my favorite ten wagers, on games taking place Friday night or Saturday morning, said a prayer and put down $10 on a ten-team parlay. $10 to win over $7,000. Having lost probably ten bets in a row, I wasn’t optimistic. Just desperate.
After the Friday night NBA games, I was a miraculous 7 for 7. SEVEN FOR SEVEN. It was unreal. I had to get hammered just to sleep that night. Then Saturday morning, Pittsburgh slaughters South Florida in football to easily cover. EIGHT FOR EIGHT. I am losing my fucking mind at this point, hyperventilating and getting dizzy. SEVEN. THOUSAND. DOLLARS. That’s me paying off my entire credit card balance, paying off each and every bill including rent for a few months, buying my family some sweet Christmas presents and not thinking about money again until next fall.
Last two games are college basketball. I’ve got UNC -10 over Kentucky, and Wake Forest -18 over Richmond. UNC is the early game, and HOLY SHIT they cover by the skin of their teeth. I’m getting chest pains. I AM NINE FOR NINE WITH ONE GAME BETWEEN ME AND $7,000. It’s all on Wake Forest, who is now comfortably ahead of Richmond, always hovering around a 20 point lead.
Well, obviously Wake Forest doesn’t cover. But oh, it’s HOW they didn’t cover that was so perfect. Wake Forest is up by 22 with a little over a minute and a half left. But then the scrubs start to file in, and the turnovers start piling up. These assholes begin a turnover festival that took years off my life. We’re under 30 seconds left, Wake Forest grabs a defensive rebound with an 18 point lead. 18 is a push. That won’t get me $7000 BUT I WILL FUCKING TAKE IT. ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS GET THE BALL OVER THE TIMELINE AND DRIBBLE OUT THE FUCKING CLOCK YOU SCRUB MOTHERFUCKERS. But of course that doesn’t happen. Wake Forest turns the ball over. Then Wake commits a foul. Richmond is in the double bonus. Some cocksucker on Richmond steps up to the line with TWO SECONDS LEFT IN THE GAME. He clanks the first one just because, fuck me, right Universe? Then he makes the second. Game over, Wake wins by 17, does not cover. Ten team parlay lost. $7,000 down to $0.
I woke up on my living room floor the next morning after drinking a life-threatening amount. Apparently my roommate had people over that night and they just stepped over my lifeless corpse.
I ended up taking out a high-interest “emergency” student loan from Citibank, which I’m still getting raped on to this day. Surprisingly, I did not shoot myself, but I did do terrible on my exams. (J.S.)
This isn’t mine in that I didn’t make the bet, but I did take it, sort of.
A friend of mine in college (this was at Ohio State) was a bookie, and on Saturday mornings it was a madhouse at his apartment, where I usually was watching pregame, drinking, and getting high. I often answered the phone when the caller ID (this was before cell phones) was someone I knew better than him. So, one morning I answer it and it’s a kid I know who’s a lazy, loud mouth, Irish drunk. He asks me what the Indy line is. Thinking he’s referring to Indiana, I tell him. He tells it to someone in the background, hems and haws, and then says to put him down for $50.
Games are played. Indiana gets crushed by god knows who, but this kid calls the same apartment later to try to collect on his bet. I’m baffled. He’s indignant. Turns out he wanted to bet on Notre Dame, who had just pulled off an upset of some kind (no idea who – sorry). I told him he was fucked, but consulted everyone in the room anyway, explaining the confusion, and they backed me up, so he was still fucked. The verdict: no one EVER says ND for Notre Dame. Ever. This is like saying DU for Duke. (Tom R.)
My first trip to Las Vegas, March 1999. Had no idea how to bet sports, which of course did not constrain me in the least. I bet a 5-game NBA parlay, stood to pay off $2200 on a pretty small bet. First 4 games hit. The last: Clippers +10 at home against the Trail Blazers. Clips winning the whole game, up 12 at the beginning of the 4th and up 8-10 most of the last quarter. I’m already spending the $2Gs, when all of the sudden the Blazers make a furious run, tying the game on a Damon Stoudamire bucket with :01 left. No worries, I think—not even the Clips can lose by 10 in OT. And yet, there go the Blazers, sprinting out to a comfortable lead. Garbage time. As the clock winds down, Blazers up 8 with the seconds ticking down, Clips have the ball, I’m still feeling OK. Then a Clipper launches a shot that is as unsuccessful as it is irrelevant, rebounded by the Blazers’ Kelvin Cato with :01 left. Cato is then quickly FOULED by Lorenzen Wright, who evidently thought there was still a chance to tie on a half-second 8-point full court shot if Cato missed. But still no problem, right—Kelvin Cato’s a 50% free throw shooter, 0-2 already on the night, as I recall. Of course, he promptly sinks both free throws. Blazers win by 10. Unbelievable.
Here’s where the novice better part comes in. I’m so disgusted I walk out of the TI, rip up my ticket, and toss it into the lagoon. Only to be told that, if a game in a parlay pushes, they’ll take that game off and pay the rest. In other words, I ripped up a perfectly good 4-game parlay worth $1500 or so.
I have to think that that is the worst NBA gambling beat ever. (Eric in Cincinnati)
You hear lots of stories from gamblers about bad beats, here is one from the other side, a bad beat on a bookie.
So a few years back I was playing poker to pay the rent. I was at a game 5+ nights a week and knew a pretty big circle of gamblers. Since I was around all these people who liked to gamble I decided I could make a nice profit by booking sports bets. There wasn’t a bookie at the poker games so the market was wide open. I started up in January of that year mostly doing NBA and NCAABB with the occasional NASCAR, golf or tennis bet thrown in. Everything was going pretty well and the poker players liked being able to bet on the NBA game that they were watching while playing so I had a nice amount of bets coming in. One guy who was notably awful at poker decided to try his luck at sports figuring he couldn’t do worse. He bet about 10 NCAABB games every weekend and usually went around .500 meaning after the vig he would lose about $50 betting $110 a game. He was pretty flush with cash from whatever he did for a living so I extended him some credit which he never stiffed me on.
One night he and I went to a local bar and decided to get quite drunk. This was Friday evening and 22 or 23 of the top 25 NCAABB were playing and he decided he wanted to bet every singe one of those games, it worked out to 20 games. I marked down his bets in my phone and wrote them out for him on a piece of paper. We called it a night and I went home to enter his and other bets into the database I used. The next day he texted me to make sure of the bets he has in play as he lost the paper. I watched a few of the early games and everything was going my way. My book was unbalanced on some of these games so I had a few that I actually cared about. After the early games I knew that even if I got hammered in the afternoon and evening games I was going to have a good profit and so I stopped watching and started getting ready for a concert I was headed to that evening. On the drive with friends (it was about 2 hours), I checked the scores for the day on my phone and saw I was killing this guy. My book was still new so on some of these games this guy was the only bet. By the time the next day rolled around he had gone 17-3. Visions of a new subwoofer for my car danced in my head.
On Monday I went to the poker game he always settled up with me at. Hmmm, no sign of him. I ask the guy who runs the game whats up and the whole table says, “He’s dead.” I presume this is a joke but nope they pull out the newspaper and show me the funeral announcement. This guy had gotten massively drunk and stoned on Saturday night, passed out on his back and drowned in his own vomit. The moral here is twofold. First, be careful extending lines of credit in your illegal bookmaking operation. Second, pass out on your stomach. (Brad C.)
The Pats getting shut out in the 2nd half and losing in OT coincided right about at that juncture where your Sunday Fundays start to fade into your Suicide Mondays. Fck that sleeveless hoodie wearing asshole.
Given I would have hedged the Sunday night game knowing I just needed the Colts to cover, but it would have turned my wknd around for sure.
Until next time, Degenerates Anonymous
Wager details for ticket number 8321189-1:
Wager Type: Parlay (8 team) Accepted By: Internet Wager Status: Loss Risk / To Win Amount: 25.00 / 1,619.27 (USD) Accepted 10/11/2009 11:10 AM - EST Lost: 25.00 Item #1 Wager Type: Money Line Outcome: Win Sport / Period: NFL Football / Game Selection: Minnesota Vikings 10/11/2009 1:00:01 PM - (EST) -600 * Event Notes: NFL - Week 5
Item #2 Wager Type: Money Line Outcome: Win Sport / Period: NFL Football / Game Selection: Dallas Cowboys 10/11/2009 1:00:01 PM - (EST) -400 * Event Notes: NFL - Week 5
Item #3 Wager Type: Spread Outcome: Win Sport / Period: NFL Football / Game Selection: Cleveland Browns 10/11/2009 1:00:01 PM - (EST) +6 -110 * Event Notes: NFL - Week 5
Item #4 Wager Type: Spread Outcome: Win Sport / Period: NFL Football / Game Selection: Detroit Lions 10/11/2009 1:00:01 PM - (EST) +10½ -110 * Event Notes: NFL - Week 5
Item #5 Wager Type: Money Line Outcome: Win Sport / Period: NFL Football / Game Selection: Atlanta Falcons 10/11/2009 4:05:01 PM - (EST) +105 * Event Notes: NFL - Week 5
Item #6 Wager Type: Spread Outcome: Loss Sport / Period: NFL Football / Game Selection: New England Patriots 10/11/2009 4:15:01 PM - (EST) -3 -110 * Event Notes: NFL - Week 5
Item #7 Wager Type: Spread Outcome: Win Sport / Period: NFL Football / Game Selection: Seattle Seahawks 10/11/2009 4:15:01 PM - (EST) -1½ -110 * Event Notes: NFL - Week 5
Item #8 Wager Type: Spread Outcome: Win Sport / Period: NFL Football / Game Selection: Indianapolis Colts 10/11/2009 8:20:01 PM - (EST) -3½ -110 * Event Notes: NFL - Week 5 (Alexander)
In 2005, I went to Reno for my bachelor party, on the second day there i put $15 down on an eight team baseball parlay. The payout was $1150. The games were spread out the day and I didnt even really pay attention to it til I hit the first six. The last two games started at the same time so there was no real way to hedge. It was just $15 bucks, no big deal, right? So, i hit the seventh game and just needed the Seattle Mariners to beat the Boston Red Sox for me to hit the most amazing bet of my life. (I was still in college and that money could have gone a long way to paying for our honeymoon)
Ryan Franklin has started for the Mariners and had pitched pretty welk, he was lifted in the sixth inning with in a 1-1 lead. Richie Sexson and Raul Ibanez went back to back in the bottom of the sixth to give me a 3-1 lead. At this point i start getting completely excited and buy beers for the people watching the game with me at the bar. That was mistake # 1. The seventh inning rolled around and the red sox put together a rally. They had scored one and had the bases loaded with 1 out and Man-Ram up. At this point I am no longer thinking about losing $15 bucks I am thinking it as losing $1150. The Mariners go to the bullpen and bring in a young JJ Putz to put out the fire. After a long at bat he struck out Manny on a 3-2 pitch. Everyone around me went wild. I ordered up a second round of drinks. After all, Trot Nixon was next up. No problem. That was Mistake #2. I will let the play by play explain what happened next…
Top 7th: Boston - B. Mueller singled to left center - R. Villone relieved S. Hasegawa - M. Bellhorn doubled to left, B. Mueller scored - J. Damon grounded out to pitcher - E. Renteria singled to right, M. Bellhorn to third - D. Ortiz hit by pitch, E. Renteria to second - J.J. Putz relieved R. Villone - M. Ramirez struck out swinging - T. Nixon homered to deep right, M. Bellhorn, E. Renteria and D. Ortiz scored - K. Millar lined out to third
5 runs, 4 hits, 0 errors Boston 6, Seattle 3
That’s right, Trot Motherfucking Nixon hit a grand slam to crush my dreams. I was now out the $15 bucks plus the $50 in bar tab for two rounds of drinks. JJ Putz can still go fuck himself. After the game was over, I wandered down to the blackjack table to play off my troubles. That was mistake #3.
That little $15 dollar parlay ended up costing me about $450. Good times. (Luis)