the canadian QB

history made

before his first game.

a canadian Show man,

far from the homeland.

ready to move

forward

he comes,

got Juice but no

Cup,

don’t worry he ain’t done.

Byfield inspired football jersey here :)

Ode to Pasta

hub’s best served

with two knives,

over ice.

one sniff, no taste

no more rats to

sacrifice.

Pasta-Boston inspired football jersey here :)

Anti Sports Betting Club

The origin of sports betting was eons ago. So much so that horse racing might be more associated with gambling than the actual sport.

Many of us have also done a fantasy bracket in our time. It’s a way to experience the event beyond the watch. It gives you and your friends more to razz each other about, and can intensify a win.

Like much of our life, sports betting has become gamified. Michael Easter introduced the idea of the “scarcity loop” in his book Scarcity Brain. He talks about the brain searching for “opportunity, unpredictable rewards, and quick repeatability.” Combine old school gambling, current technology, and the passion of a sports fan and you’ve got a potential a lot of repeat customers and a gigantic profit.

I have a professional skepticism about gambling. I work in mental health and did not grow up watching sports. The ire with which many people experience fandoms does not appear to be in my dna. I can’t help but feel on the outside of this phenomena (which might have more to do with my personality traits and family of origin than simply not being a childhood hockey fan). I’m curious - is this constant betting prompting deeper analysis? Is it ratcheting up the brain’s dopamine? Is it building human connections, or is it holding us at a distance?

My first live hockey game was in Los Angeles. Beside me was an old timer season ticket holder, calm and helpful. Behind me was a row of young men, likely around the age of 30. They constantly chattered about their bets on the game 20 feet from us as well as others happening across the league. I didn’t turn around to look, but the stream of updates had me imagining they were sitting with their faces in their phones. Personally, if I wanted my face in a screen, I would have skipped the traffic, parking charge, and overpriced pizza. The only specifics I remember is that Anze Kopitar didn’t get a point (or a goal?) like they had hoped (and bet); and that the Kings lost.

It sounded like they had fun, but I left that game curious. How much money are they making or losing? Do they base their bets on their own knowledge of statistics or do these apps do the calculations? Do they enjoy it more this way? What would they have been talking about if they weren’t keeping up on these bets? How do they feel about Kopi now?

I’ve actually had a very healthy and moderated relationship with gambling modeled for me. Every spring break we would pack up our car on Monday, each of us kids clutching our ziplock bag of Easter candy, and head to Vegas. My parents would gamble at their game of choice, staying out a little later than their usual. It seemed like they did it for fun. And they never bet money they couldn’t afford to lose. I asked them recently about it. My dad described the thrill of chasing the slots jackpot as “fun” but for both of them eventually getting to a point every night where they were “done.” They were like a walking ad for Gamble Responsibly.

I designed this shirt in response to the constant ads I see. I don’t judge people for taking sponsorships with betting companies (my favorite hockey podcast does), because the reality is that is where a great deal of the money is and they are running businesses. I’m not sure I’ve earned the label as “anti” yet, because there’s more I need to learn — but I can confidently say at this point I’m annoyed by the ads, concerned about people’s brains and wallets, and skeptical that it’s good for the game. Or the horses.

Click here to purchase the Anti Sports Betting Club shirt :)