The government is coming, the government is coming, but Dave’s not giving it a penny’s worth of worry. Dave has been a corner bookie for more than 40 years, prides himself on running a clean and customer-friendly business, and he’s betting big that nothing will change for him now that the US Supreme Court has decided to allow states to muscle in on his action.
Heck, with your state government in the sports gambling biz, what possibly could go wrong for anyone?
“I suppose there may be a bit of a Wild West aspect of this to start,’’ Dave predicted the other day over the phone, which has been his main, and only, capital investment since his start-up days in the late ’70s. “Some of these states will be making it up as they go along. It’ll have to be regulated, of course . . . but they’ll get it right eventually. And I think it’s a good thing, I really do.’’
Count me, well, disappointed, or at the very least off the dime in my reading of the tea leaves. Two weeks ago, when I heard SCOTUS was removing the handcuffs from sports betting, I figured it was a bad day for the corner book, not unlike the neighborhood hardware store owner seeing the Home Depot truck pull into that big empty lot across Main Street.
Nope. Not by Dave’s eye, one that has been trained and educated on the sports gambling biz from the age of 17, when he first started taking action upon his high school graduation. Now 58 years old, he has made his living as a book in and around his home in southern Maine for 41 years, with a client list, he says, that includes lawyers, police captains, construction workers, judges, priests, and nuns.
“Oh yeah, nuns, lots of ’em,’’ said Dave, chuckling as only a man who has a son attending a Catholic high school can. “Years ago, Notre Dame-USC? The whole convent would call up.’’
For the record, Dave reports that, over the long haul, the nuns were rewarded for their ND loyalty, and fared better at the pay window than the priests who grew to bet against the Fighting Irish.
“Notre Dame used to be pretty good back in the Rocket Ismail days and, you know, Tony Rice was quarterbacking,’’ said Dave, who asked that his last name not be used for this story. “The nuns would call every week and bet on Notre Dame.’’
It’s not divine intervention, though, that Dave sees as preserving his business now, even with the threat of government-approved casinos, racinos, and whatever may have you ultimately eyeing his turf.
First, said Dave, he has a loyal client base, including some families that now span three generations of bet-making. If they want to continue, as he is sure they will, they only have to pick up the phone and call him. So he has the loyalty and convenience factors working for him, as well as a history, he says, of never leaning too hard on customers who come up a bit short on “settling up’’ day. When a recent customer claimed, “My ATM machine ate my debit card,’’ Dave only chuckled, shook his head, and told the guy to come around when his cash flow improved.
“If anyone has a problem, the guys who are taking the action kind of help those people out,’’ he said. “That old broken-leg stuff, that doesn’t happen anymore. You know, ‘He owes the bookie a ton of money, and they are going to break his legs.’ That’s all Damon Runyon crazy talk.’’
Ultimately, it will be a willingness to extend credit that will prove the corner bookie’s life-saving edge over the state. When sports betting finally is approved here in Massachusetts, good will and reputation won’t be how bets are placed. Just like at a racetrack, the bettor, be the wager placed in person or via technology, will have to front the amount.
There will be no, “Hey, Dave, ya know I’m good for it,’’ when it’s time to put up the dough. State-approved betting reps won’t be hearing excuses about ATMs devouring debit cards, the $800 bill to fix the blown transmission, the first-semester tuition bill of $20,000.
Life has a way of getting in the way of, if not dictating, a bookie’s business. When dealing with the state? Your life, your problem. Move away from the window before we call security, OK, sport?
On the other side of the transaction, for those who win their bets, no one in the history of corner bookmaking ever has walked away with a bag of cash and a corresponding tax form. See the book, pick up your winnings, and bolt to Foley’s to buy your pals a round. That’s how winning works (or so I’ve heard).
No telling just yet exactly how the state or the feds will work out your share of winnings, but the surest bet this side of Justify wins these days is that your big wins will be reported to the IRS and your state revenue office faster than an Alex Ovechkin slap shot. You win and they win. Nothing new there.
“It’s a convenience thing for my guys,’’ said Dave, confident that the dough will continue to flow. “You know, they don’t have to go to the bank, withdraw some money, then go down to the casino to make their bet on Sundays. It’s just easier to call me.
“It’s like with the medicinal marijuana. You have dispensaries and everything around, but it’s probably still cheaper and easier to go to the guy down the corner that’s been selling bags of weed since, you know, the hippie days.’’
And with that, we’re done here, folks. The sweet, pungent, and addictive smell of sports gambling has been in the air for ages. The suits may be about to have their say, but it’s a solid bet the bookies aren’t going away.
Kevin Paul Dupont’s “On Second Thought’’ appears regularly in the Sunday Globe Sports section. He can be reached at dupont@globe.com. Follow him on Twitter @GlobeKPD.
