Since legalized gambling began in Missouri on Dec. 1, I’ve bet on seven NFL parlays and lost $80 using the FanDuel gaming app.
I had some vacation time at the end of last month, but had to stick around to get to the prep games I needed to cover. In my spare time, I combed over news reports from local sources that cover the NFL teams I was interested in betting on. I also stayed glued to NFL Network for the latest news about injuries, end of the year contract performance bonuses and any other tidbit I could file away to make my bets. I’m a journalist, after all. If I’m going to bet money on a game, I’m going to know everything about both teams and be as informed as I can be. I even checked the weather for games in outdoor stadiums.
Before I get into the dangers of legalized gambling, I can say that I’ve gotten away with a lot from my very understanding wife in 32 years of marriage, but when I told her I intended on laying bets on the NFL as my form of vacation fun, let’s just say her reaction was on the chilly side. I tried explaining to her that I was doing it as my form of entertainment in lieu of not being able to travel for vacation. Even if I lost, it wouldn’t be enough money for a dinner date for the two of us.
Like Ralphie dreams of getting his Red Ryder BB gun in “A Christmas Story,” I was spellbound by the thought of dancing in front of the big screen in our den as the parlays poured an end-of- the-year cash rush into the Korando coffers. That new screened-in porch and hot tub was as good as paid for. Every night was going to be Vegas night with Montra and me living like the Gatsbys.
OK, maybe that last part was a little too dramatic. I guess I envisioned her being as enthusiastic about the possibility of betting $10 and winning hundreds, sometimes thousands of dollars on parlays. After I lost my first two bets, I got a look of, “I told you so.” Still, I promised myself I’d be honest with her if I chose to bet. After all, she works too.
By the end of Sunday night, I lost my seventh parlay, have $20 left in my account, and I am already starting to think about the negative aspects of online gambling. I bet $10 on a four-leg parlay and got half correct. I was right about Ravens RB Derrick Henry gaining more than 89.5 yards and Kenneth Gainwell scoring an anytime touchdown for the Steelers. I was wrong about Ravens QB Lamar Jackson and Henry scoring TDs. The payout would have been $238. You don’t get half the money for getting half right though.
Missouri voters narrowly approved Amendment 2 in November 2024, a ballot initiative that led to sports betting as a regulated industry that started Dec. 1, 2025. Besides FanDuel, some of the top sports books Missourians can use are DraftKings, Bet365, Fanatics, Caesars and BetMGM, the one plugged by St. Louis native and actor Jon Hamm, who entices you to make your bets “legendary.”
Each of these platforms urges people who think they have a gambling problem to call 1-800-Gambler. It’s a constant message during their TV commercials and when using the app. I liken it to commercials about alcohol that warn its users to “drink responsibly” and not to drink and drive.
What constitutes a gambling problem? Would lying to my wife have been that first step? Betting more than I could afford to? Using it as a crutch like alcohol and drugs? I’d have to say, given the stimuli I felt while gathering information and placing each bet, I can see the allure. In the movie, “The Color of Money,” Paul Newman tells Tom Cruise, who’s his billiards protégé, that, “Money won is twice as sweet as money earned.”
And I can tell you that just might be the case, but sitting in the Leader office on Monday morning as winter is now under way for real, my coffee was more bitter than usual after getting my butt kicked seven times. Looks like more “money earned” for me.
I guess what bothers me the most is I’ve been watching NFL games since the Big Red were the toast of St. Louis in the mid-1970s. It was a short run of success that was devoid of any playoff wins, but those teams spurred little league football growth in the area, just like Brett Hull and the St. Louis Blues did for hockey in the 1990s. I’ve read countless magazines, newspaper articles, football cards, watched games on TV, attended games in person, played football from 9 to 18 and at times have been totally consumed by it.
But that doesn’t mean anything when point spreads and just the randomness of every game come into play. Henry scored four TDs the week before and didn’t get close to the goal line. Lamar had been hurt, but was 100 percent for the game against the Steelers that would decide the division champion, and I could just see him cart-wheeling over a line of defenders into the end zone like I’ve watched him do many times before.
The great thing is I learn from my mistakes and know my limitations. Before I went to bed at 1 a.m. Monday, there was action on a Women’s National Basketball League game in Australia between the favored Sydney Flames and Bendigo Spirit. I thought, if I had a problem with gambling already, I’d try to recoup my losses by taking a wild swing at a league I know nothing about.
I live about three miles from a casino in St. Charles. It’s been there for more than 30 years. I can count on one hand how many times I’ve been there. I always figured if I had a chance to bet on something I’d spent my life following, I’d have a better chance at the big payday.
Nothing’s ever that simple. I’m not by any stretch making light about those who might be addicted to gambling. The thrill of it touches the same receptors in our brains as food, drugs and alcohol. I’m sure there will be studies in the coming years about the impact legalized gambling has had on Missourians. Gambling isn’t the only vice that this state has made legal in the last five years. All we can do is warn those thinking about doing those things about their consequences and hope they make the right decisions.