Oh Canada!: NHL Fantasy Franchise Bet

            As I made my yearly journey to down Alabama for a Fantasy Football draft, the other owners tried to bring me into a long-term bet on the NFL. The bottom ten teams in the NFL were drafted, with the owner owing $100 each year until one of them wins the Super Bowl. A version had just finished with the Bronco’s victory last season, the winner taking $7,000. The boys wanted me to take the Dolphins, and I gave it serious consideration, before passing.

            The bet intrigued me enough to mention it to a few hockey friends and we set up a similar version with the NHL. We decided on an auction style draft, going up from the bottom of the standings, starting each team at $5. Montreal earned the most competitive bidding, before I won it with $50. Buffalo shocked us all, when the amount jumped straight to $40. I gave a pity $5 offer for Columbus, before reselling them for $10.

            The rules are quite simple:

• The bet continues until one of the teams wins The Stanley Cup.
• If a team loses in the final, the owner is excused from payment for the following season.
• Full payment is due at the start of each season, and the funds are kept in an interest bearing account.
• An owner can opt out at anytime for any team, but may not reenter the bet.
• Teams can be sold for equal or greater value.
• The bet can be dissolved if all the owners agree, and money will be refunded based on contributions.

Because Canada had a miserable 2015-2016 season, every team except Ottawa was available. I ended up with four Canadian teams and hope I can get two “lotto tickets” into the playoffs each season. But, since the last of the teams to win The Cup was Colorado in 2001, this could potentially be the longest term bet I ever embark upon. Let the action begin.

Colorado	Mine	(17) resold 40
Montreal	Mine	50
Buffalo	Player R	40
Arizona	Player R	10
Winnipeg	Player (Jo)	(10) resold 25
Calgary	Mine	10
Columbus	Player (Jo)	(5) resold 10
Vancouver	Mine	(13) resold 15
Edmonton	Mine	16
Toronto	Mine	12

Update: After no winner for first three years, one owner dropped out, and his teams were resold. I added two teams and now have committed $143 every year until the bet concludes. Yikes.

Year	Me	Player R	Player Ja	Player Jo	Total(w Interest)
2017	88	50	40	10	188 (190)
2018	88	50	40	10	376 (380)
2019	88	50	40	10	564 (578)
2020	143	50		35	792 (827)
2021	143	50		35	1,020 (1,060)
2022	93	50		35	1,198 (1,248)

Update: 2021 marked the first time a team made the Stanley Cup Finals, when Montreal fluked their way into a deep Covid year run.

Wanna Bet?: Gambling and the Masculine Ego

In an unexpected moment, this Montreal theoretician,

adorned with a stiff poker face, offered me a $50,000 wager

on the Caps missing the playoffs in three years.

This week the NHL playoffs begin and beards across the country begin to grow. For the fourth time in five seasons, my beloved Capitals are once again slated to face the New York Rangers. It should be a knockdown, drag out melee that will likely last seven brutal games. After a disastrous start to the season, that saw them last place in the league, the Caps stormed back, clinching another division title with games to spare. They continued their run of consecutive seasons in the post season; they have six in a row, the fourth longest active streak.

As I recollect each of the past seasons, one experience from three years ago stands out. The Caps had captured their first Presidents’ Trophy, for the best record in the league, and were favorites for a Stanley Cup appearance. Their first round match up was against the eighth seeded Montreal Canadiens.

I was at a bar, watching game three of the Capitals/Canadiens series. It was a big place, filled with televisions, but the back bar area was fairly empty. I was rocking some red, of course.

The first period was scoreless, but the Caps blistered the Habs for four goals in the second, tying a franchise record. The game put them up 2-1 in the series. My mood was elevated and relaxed as the Caps cruised, and I noticed a guy in a Montreal jersey. He and his friend were the only other people watching the game, so we started to talk hockey.

The Habs fan was in a surly mood because of the game. The conversation proceeded in a relatively friendly manner. He was an amateur player/official himself and pontificated at length on the nature of hockey for the benefit of his friend, who was but a dilettante. In an unexpected moment, this Montreal theoretician, adorned with a stiff poker face, offered a $50,000 wager on the Caps missing the playoffs in three years.

I immediately figured the Caps were a favorite to achieve this. Ovechkin, Backstrom, Laich, and Green were locked in as the long term core of the team. I also knew that the Capitals had a very strong farm system. The Hersey Bears of the AHL repeated as Calder Cup champions that 2009-2010 season. Six players from this season’s Caps team are listed on that championship banner.

The problem was two fold: $50,000 is a huge bet and I just met this guy. In fact, despite this stranger’s sane appearance, it was a completely insane offer. What type of person throws a number like that at someone they have known for an hour? In my mind, only someone who isn’t too serious.

Suppose I had said, “Sure, here is my lawyer’s number. Let’s set up an escrow account.” He would’ve smiled, taken my number, shook my hand, and I would’ve never heard from him again.

A bet like this strange, nose-bleed proposition is an interesting example of male posturing. It offers lessons on the connection of sports and the human psyche. A fan ties a portion of his/her self worth to a specific team. That team’s accomplishments fuel the ego, while each failure stings the soul. I felt this bitter sting one week later, after the Caps blew a 3-1 series lead and saw to Stanley Cup slip away, yet again.

Because the Canadiens had laid a dud of a game, this gentleman felt personally injured. To avenge this wound, one suffered in public, he found another venture in which to compete: gambling.

It has been a roller-coaster season for the 2013 Capitals: lockout, new coach, dismal start, and red hot finish. I have felt every climb and plunge with a theoretical $50,000 bump. And now, with a slow click, click, click, the cars ascend the tower of steel again, granting a wide, beautiful view of the world to all aboard. After this brief respite before Game One, the precious moment comes as we are thrust one more time, one hundred miles an hour, headlong over the horizon, into the future unknown.

Feeling Blue in Paradise

This time a year ago I was in the Caribbean islands for a friend’s wedding, surrounded by white sand and crystal blue waters. I was even planning on proposing to my girlfriend on the final day. However, despite being in a virtual heaven on earth, I was sitting in a tiny bar, in front of a video blackjack machine, totally bummed out, absent-mindedly choosing hit or stand, not caring at all whether I won or lost. My favorite team, the Washington Capitals, had just been eliminated from the playoffs. I hadn’t even been able to watch the game.

It has been extremely stressful to be a Caps fan over the past five years. Tonight, they will play their 5^th Game 7 during that stretch, more than any other team in the NHL, except one…their opponent, the defending Stanley Cup Champions, the Boston Bruins.

As a diehard, Capitals fanatic, I can remember each game like it was yesterday:

April 22^nd, 2008- In their first playoff appearance in four years, the Caps managed to storm back from a three games to one deficit against the Philadelphia Flyers. The game eventually went to overtime before Joffrey Lupul tucked a rebound past Cristobal Huet and my head collapsed into the carpet.

April 28^th, 2009- The Caps once again clawed back from three games to one, against the New York Rangers this time, and the game fell on the same night when I hosted my weekly poker game. When Sergei Federov blasted a goal with five minutes left, I celebrated so loudly, my friend across the street thought I was getting robbed.

May13^th, 2009- Against the Pittsburgh Penguins, my most hated sports franchise, the Caps got embarrassed in front of a home crowd, 6-2. The following day, with my girlfriend out of town, totally alone, a bottle of good bourbon helped me discover the wisdom of country music.

April 28^th, 2010- After winning the President’s Trophy for the best regular season record in the NHL, the Caps were heavy favorites to battle for the Cup. This time, it was the Caps that stormed to a commanding three games to one lead against the lowly Montreal Canadiens before completely choking. I’m not embarrassed to admit that, for the first time in more than a decade, I cried.

The Caps have faced the Bruins twice before in the playoffs. Each team has won one series. Both times the winner has gone on to the Stanley Cup finals. I have little faith the Caps will prevail tonight. My stomach churns a horrible knot and I feel on the verge of utter collapse. Time moves with sting of a thousand pin pricks until the puck drops.

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock. 

Punching Yourself in the Face

You know I’m gonna lose and gambling is for fools,
But that’s the way I like it, baby I don’t want to live forever.
-Motörhead “Ace of Spades”

As a gigantic hockey fan, I spent a lot of my childhood getting my fix from video games.

It started with the original Nintendo’s Ice Hockey and games against my younger brother. In the mid 1990s, when Sega’s version evolved to allow the creation of players, I built every Washington Capitals roster and won the Stanley Cup Playoffs with each one. By the time college rolled around, I had a Nintendo 64 and played full seasons with my favorite NHL teams.

Through these years of practice, I naturally got better than most people; with my proclivity towards gambling, small wagers were the next logical step. I often wish I had kept records of these early bets, but am happier that my opponents did not. At the end of each session, while counting a larger number of bills in my pocket, I always wondered why they played a game that was guaranteed to lose them money.

One friend of mine started to use the video game to really explore his inner demons. His competitive nature and desire for the glorious rush of gambling eventually pushed the stakes as high as $300 per game. Yes, he improved and won many times, but as we played, my skills also increased and I naturally maintained a consistent edge. It was MY GAME after all. I was "the house," the eighty-foot-tall leviathan of statistics. Slowly, or all in one gulp, I...will...eat...you.

A couple of times, after he lost, he punched the wall hard enough for pain, and then he made a show of thinking his hand was broken. While these bizarre performances were strangely entertaining, they did not prepare me for the day he punched himself full on in the face.

It happened very suddenly, but I will never forget the savage, flesh-smacking sound of his self-flagellation. His eyes were wild and desperate as he tried to convince me to keep playing. Reluctantly, I agreed, but after another loss and another face punch, I put the controller down.

Some players use gambling to satisfy their unconscious need to punch themselves in the face. For some reason, they willingly play games they can’t win, and they repeatedly make bets that will surely lose money. All the logic, math, and rational thought in the world cannot dissuade them from pursuing this strange urge for financial self-destruction.

My friend’s face punching illustrates how this unconscious urge to lose is intimately connected with a desire for self-destruction (see Freud’s “Beyond the Pleasure Principle”).

If you like to gamble, please give yourself a long look in the mirror, and explore your true motivations. You might save yourself a good deal of money by simply punching yourself in the face.

Hockey Players Love to Gamble

As the Oakland Raiders prepared to meet the Tampa Bay Buccaneers in Super Bowl XXXVII, a friend of mine called to tell me the New York Rangers had rented the Georgetown restaurant/bar he managed to watch the game. They were in D.C. after playing an afternoon game with the Capitals and because he knew I was a huge hockey fan, he invited me to watch the game also.

The entire two floor club was empty except for the players, a few girls, and a handful of random people (like me). The Rangers were easy to spot, even if you didn’t know hockey from hop-scotch, because they were very, very large, and fairly well-dressed. They sat around on the bar’s black leather couches, like hulking wise-guys, and watched Tampa’s defense dismantle Rich Gannon with a record five interceptions, three for second half touchdowns.

The final treat for the evening, aside from the exciting game and famous athletes, was the open bar which everyone abused in copious amounts (I suppose this means that I drank courtesy of the Rangers organization…thanks guys!).

The alcohol and sports mixed well to create an exciting energy; it filled the club as the Rangers took shot after shot and cheered at the jumbo television screen. It was hard to tell this team had taken consecutive beatings and was in desperate need of a playoff push.

Former MVP Eric Lindros stood quietly next to me for the duration of the third quarter. At the time, I was trying hard not to be an annoying fan, but I regret not chatting him up a little bit about his days in Philadelphia. His career was winding down because of concussions, and as he stood by himself at the bar, he seemed like the quiet type anyhow.

However, I could not resist talking to notorious instigator Matthew Barnaby about a fight he had that afternoon. I will never forget it because, as he was getting pounded in the face, he stopped fighting, looked over to the Rangers bench, and laughed like the devil’s own son (above). Barnaby was in the middle of all the action at the bar; that guy’s loose screws make him very entertaining.

The real shock of the evening was witnessing how much these hockey players liked to gamble. Many of them had thick knots of bills and yelled out strange and drunken wagers. For example, I watched one player bet a grand that a catch under review would be ruled a touchdown.

This proclivity toward financial risk is shared by many NHL players. One time MVP Jaromir Jagr lost several hundred thousand betting college football during his short tenure with the Capitals. Rick Tocchet lost his job as Phoenix’s assistant coach when his book-making operation got busted. Gretzky's "wife" was one of his clients. Of course, the NHL forgives and forgets, and Tocchet was promoted to Tampa Bay’s head coaching job this year.

Gambling with money must be a frivolous thrill when placed next to the potential for extreme bodily harm these players skate with every day. I wonder if there is any correlation between the two...

The Biggest Bet I've Ever Made

Although I generally eschew sports betting in favor of games where I see a genuine edge, I made the spring of 2002 a big exception.

I had met a group of small-time bookies who worked at a favorite bar of mine and started placing bets on the NFL playoffs and then the NCAA basketball championship. Bars, by the way, for some reason, are terrific places to meet book makers and do a little gambling. Perhaps it’s the combination of booze, television, and time to kill, I don’t know.

I still vividly remember getting robbed in a well-known Raiders and Patriots game in the snow; Tom Brady got stripped of the ball late in the game, but it was ruled an incomplete pass. The replay clearly shows Brady touching the ball with his other hand as he checks it down! The Patriots tied the game and eventually won by a field goal in overtime, which pushed my Raiders +3 bet, but I’ve always felt like I was robbed of $200. This memory doubtlessly contributes to my healthy hatred of the Pats.

By the time the NHL playoffs started, I was ready to mix my love of hockey with some bigger action. I picked a few games in the early rounds leading up to the Stanley Cup, sometimes losing a hundred or two, sometimes winning.

When the Red Wings marched into the finals, with a roster of certain Hall of Fame players, my instincts sensed an opportunity to make some “easy” money. The Wings' bench was stocked with arguably the best collection of players the NHL had seen in over a decade (I mean, come on: Yzerman, Federov, Shanahan, Hull, Robitalle, Lidstrom, Chelios, Larionov, the young Pavel Datsyuk, and a perfect cast of role players. This was a no brainer). The deepest pit of my stomach told me that there was no way Detroit’s goaltender, Dominick “The Dominator” Hasek, would let his best chance for a Cup slide by him.

So I visited my bartender/bookie and slid him a slip of paper which said “Detroit win series $1000.” Now a thousand dollars is a nice bit of dough, but as 1 to 8.5 favorites, a Detroit loss would decimate my bankroll. If you can laugh off $8500, then more power to you. This bookie pal of mine made sure I knew the murky waters I was wading into and told me he had never seen anyone put so much on one series. What can I say? I knew they would win. As an after thought, I put another $300 on Game 1.
 

Unfortunately, Carolina shocked Detroit in Game 1, tying the game with less than a minute left and then their captain, Ron Francis, netted a goal to win a minute into overtime. The turnaround was lightning quick; I was up $300 and on my way to a nice payday, then, in less than two minutes of game time, I was facing a $300 loss and suddenly looking down a 85 hundred dollar sniper’s bullet. A powerful sense of nausea appeared in my stomach like the sickly anticipation of waiting for a roulette ball to make up its mind and finally drop.

However, Detroit only trailed in one of the next four games, won them all, and when the ball did fall nine days later, the cash was mine. All told, during the 2002 NHL playoffs, I pocketed a little over $1300 and have tried my hardest to stay away from sports gambling ever since.