Bad beats and bad bets!
By: Derrick Oliver-Dewan
When I was a kid, maybe seven or eight, I’d make a lot of bets with my father. Five dollars on a 10-foot putt, ten bucks on the name of a song, another 10-spot on a pool shot, would I make the 8-ball 20 bucks, you get the drift. Well, it wasn’t too long before I was into him for over $100. Then, it was 160 bucks, 180, 205 and so on and so on. I’d win a wager here and there but I mostly lost. Sensing I had the gambling bug well entrenched in me, pops laid it on the line one day while we were on the golf course; should I have the misfortune of ever owing him $500 he would wipe the slate clean but only after punching me in the face. Yes, a good old-fashioned knuckle sandwich. It might be a strange way to teach a kid a lesson but certainly an effective technique. I am 41 now and I still owe him $497 (have owed him that since I was about 15!). I’m pretty sure the next wager will hover around the $2.90 mark. It’ll have to be a sure thing – Dad’s got a pretty good right hook!