Every person who lives the life of a gambler has times when they hit rock bottom or go bust. When I say the life of gambler, I do not mean working a 9-5 and placing some wagers online. I mean 24/7 living it. The people, the money swings, everything. I got my start off young running parlay cards but quickly learned how to run book and branched off and recruited everyone around me as clients. I was running good before I was old enough to drink but eventually this happened:
"We need to talk when I get home...." That is when I knew it was officially over. I realized at that point for the first time I did not have all the answers. Only 24, but before that day I thought I knew it all. So how did I get to this point of total collapse? The girl I was supposed to marry was gone. All the money was gone. I stopped going to school a long time ago, and quit working not too soon after that. So you can understand, let me go back about six months.This old time bookie I knew once told me, "No on stays on top forever." Even though it makes sense now, at that point in my life it went one ear and out the other. Shit, why not. I did not have to work. I had a brand new Explorer, a 55" TV, a sweet ass apartment. You name it. To top it off, two weeks earlier I went to Florida on what was supposed to be a three day trip to see Michigan play Arkansas in the Citrus Bowl and turned it into a 10 day vacation because I did not feel like coming home. It was only money, right? No one could question me. I was running parlay cards, booking bets, and hand my hand in anything I could that involved a good hustle. The day after Florida my alarm went off; BEEP, BEEP, BEEP. Snooze. BEEP, BEEP, BEEP. Snooze. Once again I thought I figured it all out. Did I quit? Nope. Fired? Hell no. I just stopped going to work. Why work? Why have to wake up every single day when I had more money in my pocket than I could make working a month at 40 hours a week. If I wanted something, I would just buy it. New bedroom set? I still remember going into the furniture store and telling the manager, if I pay cash right now for all of this, can you have it delivered and set up before my girl comes home? It was delivered, set up, and the old one gone before she even walked in the door. I loved to work out, but going to the gym was such a pain in the ass. So I took a trip to a sporting good store and turned one on my rooms into a gym; weights, treadmill, stair climber, bike, you name it. People talk of one day having their dream job. At 14 I was passing out parlay cards at school and turning them in for a 10% cut, and by 24 was few years into my "dream job" of running my own book. My work day consisted of answering a phone for a few hours a day, driving to pick up my parlay cards, dropping them off, and collecting or paying money every Friday. Not only that, my main man, Reggie was released from the pen after doing a two year stint and everything was clicking. I had a beautiful fianc who was sporting a 2 karat ring I bought her. I would roll out of bed around noon, Reggie would stop by, and we would play some Sony for a few hours and than hit the titty bar for lunch. Bounce to a few more titty bars, stop at the casino or maybe shoot some pool. Go home, answer the phones and than head out for the night. That was my life. No waking up early if I did not want to. No having to come home early. Everything was perfect and almost better than perfect considering football just ended and I went through it basically unscathed and leaving more than one person with an empty bank account. Than I met Charley.
My main technique of recruiting new players was converting parlay card players. "Man, you lost again by one game", I would say. "You know if you would of bet straight you would of made some money? " Hook, line and sinker, it was a sales pitch that worked on anyone regardless of race, color or creed. Other than that using this infamous technique I would tell my current customers I would give them a % of money made from any friends they brought in. Enter Charley. Kid was not even 21, and to this day I can still remember my girl's brother calling me telling me about his friend who loved sports, but his bookie was a half ass who was always late paying. His first bet was a winner on the Miami Heat for a 100. No big deal. Bookie's dream is to have them win the first bet. It is like the high school kid when he first gets laid, you are hooked. I was licking my chops, and planning what this poor kid's losses would buy me. I mean for gods sake, this kid was the epitome of a "square bettor". He watched ESPN for his information, and handicapped using the local paper. But quite the opposite happened and for the first time in a long while, I had someone that was starting to beat me week in and week out. Cut him off? Hell no, this guy was a "square". He would start losing any day now, give back my money and than some. They always do. Except Charley.
Within a month it got so bad, that if he would lose 1 out of 3 games, I considered it a moral victory. Not only was he winning, but his games were basically in the bag by halftime. Even worse was he was now betting $500+ per game. One game that sticks out in my head that I thought I actually was going to win was Orlando and the LA Lakers. He had LA minus the points and at halftime Orlando was waxing them; bad. 3rd quarters starts, and Kobe Bryant goes on a scoring rage, something like 29 points or something. Start of the 4th quarter, LA has the lead and goes on to bury the Magic. By this time I was spending my nights on the couch rather than sleeping with my girl because I was up every night watching the late games, and by the time they ended I was sick to my stomach. Going over totals and checking scores multiple times to make sure that the numbers could really be that bad, By this point, it was not just Charlie, but everyone was winning. The favorites and the over were booked as winners before the games ended. To make matters, worse, my run of cleaning up on parlay cards hit a major bump when me and Sammy (my partner on the cards) got our clocks cleaned one weekend when all the favs PLUS Michigan, Michigan State and the Lions all won big. Everything was falling apart. Without a job, I had an apartment to pay for, cell phone, truck, the list just went on and on. When you hustle for a living you do not get a pay check on Friday. You need to earn and keep earning. There is no vacation or sick pay. Not only was Charley beating me, but guys who for the longest could not pick the Monday game if I let them bet Tuesday morning were winning. Platinum cards with $8,000 limits were maxed out with cash advances. Than the call came on my cell phone...."We need to talk when I get home...." Within the week, she was moved out and I was at the lowest point in my life. I would sit there in my apartment filled with materialistic goods that for once in my life had no meaning. My big screen and surround sound system that I loved to show off sat turned off most of the time. All the fancy gym equipment was covered with dust because I stopped working out long ago because I kept stopping my workout to check the scores. I had no job. With all the cash advances my credit card debt was nearing $24,000+. Mind you, I was 24 and busted out, so the $24k at this point was AFTER all the other money was gone. But I sucked it up. Big deal, f**k it, I would handle it. I always did. If I ever wanted something I found a way to get it. I hustled my way into anything and everything, and I would make it out of this. Or so I thought. Like it was yesterday, if I close my eyes it is like I am there. Walking out of the shower and realizing I was busted.
"Mom, Dad, is it okay if I moved home?" I went from having everything, to moving back home into my room at my parents. I cleansed myself of all the materialistic bullshit that basically ****ed up my life and sold everything from the TV to the stairmaster. It was all gone, but for the first time in a long time I had meaning back in my life. Try going from living in fantasy land and the "he who has most toys when they die, wins mentality" to living in the same little ass bedroom you grew up in. Try going from having a glass of Crown Royal on the rocks in one hand, a Sony controller in the other, playing Madden on the big screen to watching T.V in some cold ass basement because your dad was watching the History Channel on the good T.V. Even though I should if hated it, it made gave me time to think and get my life back together.
It took a little while but I got back on my feet and eventually moved back out. A few months in someone broke into my apartment and did not steal a thing. All the drawers and closets were thrown on the floor and the mattress was flipped over. Even though I am just an average joe now, my street rep as being "the book" was still out there, and obviously someone was trying to make a score. Sorry my man, no rubber band stacks of money anymore. Like I said, a piece of that lifestyle will always be with me. I know my life will never be completely normal, and the 9mm that sits above my bed reminds me of that everyday. Reggie ended up going back to prison. Our buddy George went away during that time and just got released from Jackson a few months back. Another associate of mine went way off the path and last year robbed a bank in South Dakota and was busted by the feds in Vegas. With a lot of old school friends either in prison or gone from reality, I hear that alarm buzzer go off this time; I smile and get up to go to my office down stairs to enter the Pregame world. I get to do what I love without worrying about the police kicking in my door. I cherish each and every day I can do this for a living.
I have a wonderful wife and two beautiful children. Have a nice house in the suburbs and even have two dogs. The fast lane lifestyle is gone forever. But you know what? I finally realize that there are things more important in life than pointspreads and stacks of cash. Most of all I cherish everyday, and appreciate the world and people around me, because I finally realize the "old man" was right when he said, "No one stays on top forever...................."