Denver Post Sports
In a country that would rather gamble than eat, Pete Rose is an American hero.
As sure as Charlie Hustle smacked 4,256 base hits, his tell-all tale is headed for No. 1 on the best-seller list.
Want to make book on it?
But the real story is not Rose's gambling problem. It is our nation's gambling problem.
"It is now possible in America, from the privacy of your den, wearing nothing except your pajamas, to bet on sports and lose your house, without ever leaving your house," said Guy C. Clark, chairman of the National Coalition Against Legalized Gambling.
Odds are, you know somebody with an addiction to gambling. It is even money that you like him or her anyway.
"Hall of Fame! Hall of Fame!" chanted the capacity crowd only minutes before Game 4 of the World Series on an autumn night in 2002, when Rose took the field during a promotional appearance sanctioned by baseball. That was the last time I saw Rose. It was a madhouse.
As stern-faced guards quickly ushered Rose from the stadium through a back hallway, I walked in his chaotic wake, as heavy security ropes fell and metal stanchions clattered on the concrete floor, and fans with expensive tickets shouted, "You're the best, Pete!" and "Give the poor guy a break."
A Rose by any other name is one of us. Placing a dime on the Packers with an Internet bookie is what cigarette smoking in a nightclub was in the 1950s. Ersatz cool. Specious sophistication.
What does the Average Joe have in common with Charlie Hustle? We all crave a little action. Anybody know the point spread of today's NFL playoff games? It is information readily available in your favorite local newspaper.
According to a national study that bears repeating, U.S. citizens gamble more money every year than they spend on groceries.
Only in America. Is this great country or what?
The national pastime is not baseball. Or football. Or hoops.
It is gambling. From slot machines in casinos to lottery tickets in convenience stores, we drop more cash on legalized betting than the revenue generated from ticket sales of NASCAR, major-league baseball, the NBA and every other spectator sport.
Combined.
"Sports gambling is certainly interesting and widespread and pernicious," Clark told me by telephone from his home in New Mexico. "Sports betting is a slower addiction than other forms of gambling, where the payoff is more immediate. But over a period of three to five years, it is certainly possible for a person to get hooked on sports gambling, whether it is at the horse track or on football. Gambling is an addiction that does not get as much attention as drug use, because it is not as visibly disabling. People don't come to work with gambling on their breath."
Making a frightening claim that gambling addiction fosters a suicide rate three times higher than the self-destructive tendencies of alcohol abusers, Clark has much more serious objections to America's obsession with sports action than I do.
Sincere reformers of Clark's ilk see the gambling explosion as a sign of moral decay. I regard gambling more as litter piling up across the country, and turning legitimate athletic drama into trash sport, where it matters not if you win or lose, but whether a meaningless touchdown at garbage time broke the hearts of bettors who had 200 bucks riding on the under.
Travel the highways of Montana and the beautiful scenery is marred by low-brow, low-stake casinos disguised as cafes and truck stops, just as it is now almost impossible for a sports writer to towel off in the locker room of his health club during college bowl season without some guy asking if it would be a good bet to take the Buckeyes and the points.
Hey, I don't wager on sports. My money is sunk in mutual funds, not the pari-mutuel window. When the stock market goes up, I call it investing. When the bear roars on Wall Street, I call it gambling.
Rose was not the first to give betting in America a bad name. He gave it a face.
His craving to gamble is the one and only reason that baseball's No. 1 hit-maker is not already an honored member in the Hall of Fame.
By that critical measure, there is no denying Rose has a gambling problem.
Which only goes to prove Charlie Hustle is as American as baseball or apple pie.@@@
In a country that would rather gamble than eat, Pete Rose is an American hero.
As sure as Charlie Hustle smacked 4,256 base hits, his tell-all tale is headed for No. 1 on the best-seller list.
Want to make book on it?
But the real story is not Rose's gambling problem. It is our nation's gambling problem.
"It is now possible in America, from the privacy of your den, wearing nothing except your pajamas, to bet on sports and lose your house, without ever leaving your house," said Guy C. Clark, chairman of the National Coalition Against Legalized Gambling.
Odds are, you know somebody with an addiction to gambling. It is even money that you like him or her anyway.
"Hall of Fame! Hall of Fame!" chanted the capacity crowd only minutes before Game 4 of the World Series on an autumn night in 2002, when Rose took the field during a promotional appearance sanctioned by baseball. That was the last time I saw Rose. It was a madhouse.
As stern-faced guards quickly ushered Rose from the stadium through a back hallway, I walked in his chaotic wake, as heavy security ropes fell and metal stanchions clattered on the concrete floor, and fans with expensive tickets shouted, "You're the best, Pete!" and "Give the poor guy a break."
A Rose by any other name is one of us. Placing a dime on the Packers with an Internet bookie is what cigarette smoking in a nightclub was in the 1950s. Ersatz cool. Specious sophistication.
What does the Average Joe have in common with Charlie Hustle? We all crave a little action. Anybody know the point spread of today's NFL playoff games? It is information readily available in your favorite local newspaper.
According to a national study that bears repeating, U.S. citizens gamble more money every year than they spend on groceries.
Only in America. Is this great country or what?
The national pastime is not baseball. Or football. Or hoops.
It is gambling. From slot machines in casinos to lottery tickets in convenience stores, we drop more cash on legalized betting than the revenue generated from ticket sales of NASCAR, major-league baseball, the NBA and every other spectator sport.
Combined.
"Sports gambling is certainly interesting and widespread and pernicious," Clark told me by telephone from his home in New Mexico. "Sports betting is a slower addiction than other forms of gambling, where the payoff is more immediate. But over a period of three to five years, it is certainly possible for a person to get hooked on sports gambling, whether it is at the horse track or on football. Gambling is an addiction that does not get as much attention as drug use, because it is not as visibly disabling. People don't come to work with gambling on their breath."
Making a frightening claim that gambling addiction fosters a suicide rate three times higher than the self-destructive tendencies of alcohol abusers, Clark has much more serious objections to America's obsession with sports action than I do.
Sincere reformers of Clark's ilk see the gambling explosion as a sign of moral decay. I regard gambling more as litter piling up across the country, and turning legitimate athletic drama into trash sport, where it matters not if you win or lose, but whether a meaningless touchdown at garbage time broke the hearts of bettors who had 200 bucks riding on the under.
Travel the highways of Montana and the beautiful scenery is marred by low-brow, low-stake casinos disguised as cafes and truck stops, just as it is now almost impossible for a sports writer to towel off in the locker room of his health club during college bowl season without some guy asking if it would be a good bet to take the Buckeyes and the points.
Hey, I don't wager on sports. My money is sunk in mutual funds, not the pari-mutuel window. When the stock market goes up, I call it investing. When the bear roars on Wall Street, I call it gambling.
Rose was not the first to give betting in America a bad name. He gave it a face.
His craving to gamble is the one and only reason that baseball's No. 1 hit-maker is not already an honored member in the Hall of Fame.
By that critical measure, there is no denying Rose has a gambling problem.
Which only goes to prove Charlie Hustle is as American as baseball or apple pie.@@@
