Friday, September 17, 2010
Brother Jon's Football Betting Pool
A great way to add some excitement to the games, and pick up some walking-around money, I figure.
Problem is, I know little about football, and less about betting pools.
I lay awake in bed last night (my naturopath and I are trying various supplements to see if I can achieve deeper sleep) and while staring at the clock tick from 3:21 to 3:22 to 3:23 . . . you get the picture . . . I began to form an idea.
It's in rough form only, a nascent concept. I only have the outline.
I'm going to need to form a syndicate. The front man will be an unassuming bumbling newbie. There's a guy in town I know who can do that. The less he knows, the better. Behind him, in the shadows will be fellows who know what they're doing: someone to put up the money, preferably nicknamed "Pockets"; and someone who knows their onions, "The Professor," or just "perfessor"; we'll need spies on the teams, and someone with dirt on some of the pivotal players or a critical coach; a few runners, "Squeaky," and "Mutt"; and a sad-faced defrocked accountant (bowtied astigmat wtih sleeve garters) we call "Numbers." As in, "Get Numbers on the phone." A smoke-filled boiler room with tout boards and five-line desk telephones. Whiskey, too. There has to be whiskey.
If done right, we could net enough from this pool to land at least $8 for everyone. Before expenses.
This surely has to work. Doesn't it?