Fixing Sports "Fixes" Proves Vexing

This year's Super Bowl was marked by a blackout whose cause remains unstated. One of the funnier conspiracy theories about the incident is that it was caused by disgruntled San Francisco 49er fans based in Silicon Valley. I'm skeptical about that particular interpretation of events, but it makes more sense than the NFL's retreat into the Cone of Silence.

Meanwhile, the day after the Super Bowl provided us with the dreaded shadow all who enjoy professional and collegiate sports fear most -- the "fix." It's happened before in the United States, when college basketball was tainted for years, thanks to a point shaving scandal. The current iteration of the "fix" involves international soccer.

The BBC reported that European police identified a massive fixing campaign, orchestrated by certain Asian gambling interests, had essentially corrupted big-time, global soccer. Some major matches, the equivalent of a Super Bowl or World Series, were rigged. The fixing went beyond players and referees and included front offices.

It was a shocking report, especially in light of Italy's two recent soccer fixing scandals. What the police discovered was that the corruption was far deeper, and far more extensive, than investigators initially suspected. The news also takes some heart out of the sport's entertainment value and degrades the concept of fair play, sport's essential dramatic value.

That soccer, the world's leading sport, could be so thoroughly compromised, should give Americans pause. (Of course, Americans are familiar with financial corruption from the housing crisis.) The NFL, NBA, and MLB are far from immune to the siren song of easy money or the darker rhythms of blackmail. There's tremendous amounts of money at stake, from corporate interests to mom and pop gamblers. If the NFL, and especially its Super Bowl, is perceived as "dirty," the sport is finished. People will have to find some other opportunity to lose money in exciting ways.

NY Mets' Owners Pitch for Queens Casino

Mr. Met

Oh, those wild and crazy New York Mets have created quite a story for the back pages. The tale begins with the Metropolitans, one of Major League Baseball's premier franchises, pleading poverty in the wake of the Bernie Madoff affair. Their solution to this dilemma, however, does not involve improving the baseball team. Instead, according to an article in today's New York Post, Sterling Equities has made a pitch to build a casino adjacent to the Mets' ballpark, Citi Field.

Sterling Equities is the "development arm" of the Mets' owners, Fred Wilpon and Saul Katz. They've made a deal with a local Native American tribe to operate the gambling parlor. (Native Americans have a monopoly on table gaming in the Empire State.) Now, inquiring minds may ask how an Indian reservation was found about two miles from LaGuardia Airport. Well, there isn't one. The New York State Legislature would have to amend current statutes to permit table gambling in the Big Apple. Unsurprisingly, there's been some initial discussion in Albany addressing that very topic.

Now, before you can say "round up the usual suspects," keep in mind that Major League Baseball is highly allergic to any association with organized crime -- excuse me -- organized gambling. Further, New York governor Andrew Cuomo appears cool to the idea of a "family-style" gaming oasis in Queens. Gotham's legal games of chance currently focus on horse racing. Of course, illegal gambling is a major New York business. Why would anyone want to legalize such a lucrative money pot?

It's more than a little sad to see Citi Field pathetically empty during the height of a baseball season. The way to fix that depressing atmosphere is for Wilpon and Katz to put a better product on the diamond, rather than putting their money on a fixed casino game.

Wall Street Bond House Expands Its Vegas Sports Gambling Operation

The New York Times, bless its soul, published a story in its Christmas Eve edition about a Wall Street firm and its links to legitimate gambling.

The firm in question is Cantor Fitzgerald, one of The Street's major bond players. The firm is a very important provider of market data; Bloomberg Radio, for instance, reports Cantor's Treasury market data. Cantor is also known for its tragic 9/11 legacy, when much of its World Trade Center workforce was wiped out.

Cantor's connection to gambling over a decade ago in the United Kingdom. The firm's Las Vegas initiative began in 2005, according to the Times piece, when Cantor approached Nevada gaming authorities to approve mobile gambling anywhere within the state. Player participation requires that clients maintain accounts with certain designated casinos which have agreements with Cantor Gaming, as the enterprise is known.

If Cantor succeeds in its mobile gambling wager, the firm could land a bonanza. Connect that fact with the marketing allure of smartphones, and Cantor would be able to provide the consumer world's version of the Tree of Knowledge. The combination would be both irresistible and tragic for clients as well as for Cantor.

A Cantor spokesperson noted in the Times story that the bond market bid-ask schemes and sports point spreads are conceptually similar. What went unsaid was the breakdown of the division between investing and speculation that have turned equity, bond, and other financial markets into thinly disguised casinos. More and more Wall Street analysts and executives openly characterize putting money into the financial markets as "betting."

Not so long ago, investing money required financially qualified customers, suitable risk management, and realistic goals. It wasn't for everyone. That notion changed in the past couple of decades. Now, everyone's a player.

Here's an example of what's different. A diner near my office has two televisions. One broadcasts sports programming. The other shows a financial TV network. Both get plenty of attention, from players with a range of skills and smarts. The allure of the Tree of Knowledge is on display at the diner. Cantor and its Las Vegas allies know this, and intend to profit from it. And rule #1 of the casino is that the house always wins in the end.

The image shows a flyer featuring the late Dallas Cowboys coach Tom Landry warning against legalized gambling.

Jumping into the Football Pool

Until two years ago, I had never participated in a gambling pool. My wagering experience, prior to jumping into my office's pro football pool, consisted of a rare two dollar bet on some thoroughbred horse races and some quickly, tiny sums of money lost at Las Vegas and cruise ship blackjack tables.

Gambling is not a common experience in my family. My mother bet on horses as often as I did, and with about as much success. I can't recall my father ever making a wager, although I believe he was capable of it. My brothers might have played cards and bet a few bucks, but they were hardly habitual gamblers and, as far as I know, lost the urge somewhere after their teen years. I can't think of a good friend or a colleague who put his or her money down on a sure thing. Given the number of gamblers in the world, and especially in sin cities such as New York, one could say my association with non-gamblers beat the odds.

My father-in-law died long before Amy took a chance on me as her husband. He was a player, according to my wife, my now-deceased mother-in-law, and anyone I've met who knew him.

He gambled enough to attract Vegas' largesse. He knew the man who invented the casino junket. He knew people who strongly resembled the Ace Rothstein character played by Robert DeNiro in Martin Scorsese's movie Casino. Like many businessmen, my father-in-law couldn't stop trying to outwit the competition. Amy's dad would have enjoyed nothing more than placing football bets with his son-in-law. In fact, he would have insisted I get into the pool and get wet.

Since my plunge into football gambling, I've become more interested in the outcomes of the games. I take note of dull teams and wonder if they'll cover the spread. I cautiously watch squads being touted as "can't miss" propositions. Above all, I try to have fun and not take it too seriously. This is a difficult stance for me, as sports betting is one area in which I have a very competitive spirit.

The cost of admission for the sinner's way to enjoy the Sabbath is a little bit more than what I pay for one month's dues for the local YMCA. My late father-in-law would have been perplexed by a Sunday afternoon spent in virtuous physical exercise, but would have understood investing a few hours in a sporting proposition.