What does one do when one is in Vegas? For many, the answer is simply, “Gamble.” When my wife and I just visited for the first time, my plan was just to blow ten bucks on roulette and call it a day, as I’m not much of a gambler, and we were much more interested in touring the lavish casinos and other Vegas attractions (go check out the Neon Museum – it’s awesome!).
But as our casino crawl continued on our first day of strolling through Vegas, we found ourselves in New York, New York. In the front entrance, I was greeted by a giant odds board for every conceivable sporting event that was going on that day. Fate had led me in New York, New York to bet on the Mets, of this I was certain.
So I redistributed my $10 of roulette money on the Mets Phillies affair, my first ever sports bet. My odds were nearly even with Logan Verrett spot-starting and Vince Velasquez coming off a 16 strikeout complete game shutout. As I followed the early evening’s events before dinner (the three hour time difference is quite jolting), I was treated to an offensive explosion. Home run after home run would lead to an 11-1 Mets rout, and transformed my $10 into $19.50.
As many do in Vegas, I decided to press my luck. I headed back over to New York New York the next morning to let it ride. I felt a little less stupid this time around and referred to the specific game by the four number designation listed next to the matchup.
The woman behind the counter asked me, “First five?”
“Uhh…I have no idea what that means.”
“That four number code refers to betting on the results of the first five innings of the game.” [I shouldn’t have been surprised – it’s Vegas; you can bet on anything]
“Oh, no I want to bet on the whole game.”
So much for feeling less stupid. My odds were much worse on this second affair – even with Colon on the mound, the lowly Braves were up, and the oddsmakers certainly had to have seen the previous night’s slaughter. A win would only net me $12.60 on a $19.50 bet, theoretically totaling $32.10.
Armed with my new bet slip, I strolled out and we continued with our day. The Mets couldn’t hold a lead and the game slipped into extra innings, bleeding into our fancy dinner at BLT Steak. My ever-patient wife managed not to murder me as I checked up on the game sporadically throughout the meal. As they say, no dice. Freddy Galvis trotted in with the Phillies’ winning run and my money had gone up in smoke. I chalked it up to $10 well spent on two days’ worth of entertainment.
Appropriately, the Mets were ahead, 4-3, after 5 innings. Oh well.