Shennanigans? Yep. Shennanigans.

by guest author: rektyolo



Do you remember your first sports bet? I have a feeling that the first bet you ever placed on a sporting event was probably in the realm of around ten to twenty dollars… right? Well, that’s what I did anyways. I started betting on sports about three years ago and my original bets were incredibly small, never amounting to really more than $25 or so on one to two games per week. I started off being somebody who would place a friendly wager on a game just to make the event more enjoyable to watch, and if there’s one thing I definitely swear by… it is that having a small wager on an event makes it more enjoyable to a factor of 10 to 100 in my world.

This is my story about how once I finally muscled up the courage to place a “huge bet” I was trolled by the sports betting gods for a merciless 6 hours and 5 minutes. At the end of my story, I hope you will be able to understand the intense thrill and rush one experiences when actually watching the game unfold before their own eyes and how you should never – ever – consider a bet “in the bag” before the game has actually ended, because if you do, you may experience something like I did – shenanigans come in all shape and sizes, and miracles tend to happen just at the right moment when you have your big bet on…sometimes for a thrilling joyride of emotion when you’re on the positive end of the outcome and other times for an end result of frustration, disappointment, and complete and total shock when you are on the losing side of it.

During my initial experimentation with sports betting, I found myself to have the best record for winning my bets in MLB games, so naturally I decided to put my huge bet on the Yankees, especially against the Cubs. There was no way in hell one of the greatest teams in baseball was going to lose to the stinking Cubs. I was able to get about +115 if i can remember on the moneyline, so I decided to place down a wager of $XXXX (that is, less than $XXXXX but more than $XXX) and proceeded to grab myself a beer and kicked back on my recliner to watch the game. I placed my wager about 10 minutes before the game started, and continuously second guessed if it was a good idea in the process. I could afford to lose the money, that wasn’t the issue… I was wondering if what I had just done was a fucking stupid decision…. That was a LOT of money I just laid down on the outcome of this baseball game.

The game started. Once the first pitch was thrown it hit me – for the next 9 innings, i’m going to have to endure hell regardless of whether or not I win this bet. Of course, winning the bet was definitely the favored outcome and what I wanted to have happen… but that tightening of the stomach you get when you realize that there’s no turning back makes you realize that actually watching the event unfold is going to be one hell of an ordeal… All of my previous bets had been for such a small amount of money that I could shrug off the loss once it looked like my pick started going south, if the team i bet moneyline on was down 5 points by the 3rd inning, i’d pretty much just shut off the damn TV and accept the outcome. It all hit me at once… I was going to be glued to the television for every waking second of this baseball game, because I knew i’d be pissed if I were to give up on watching the game unfold in the event the team I bet on (the yankees) were to go down a significant number of runs early on and then for some reason a miracle comeback were to unfold. I knew that even though i’d win my bet, i’d be pissed if I didn’t watch the whole god damn game. From that very first pitch I knew that I was going to have to do some intense focusing on this ballgame because it was literally all I could think about. I just wanted the damn thing to be over.

So the baseball begins.

I don’t think i’ve ever seen such an intense first inning of baseball in my life. Well, that is from my perspective anyways… The yankees were up to bat first and immediately the Yanks came out swinging hard – Jacoby Ellsbury got a line drive single to get himself on first base to immediately put the Yankees on an amazing start. I had never been so ecstatic to see a base hit in my life. I could tell after this very first at bat that this was going to be an amazing game to watch. And boy was I ever right…

I was stoked that the game immediately began with momentum swinging in my favor. Shortly afterwards, however, I was rudely reminded how mean the baseball gods can be. They fucking picked off our baserunner. God damnit. All of those good vibes that I immediately felt had changed to frustration – meanwhile, we were still in the top of the first inning; with only one out recorded. There was so much more baseball left to play, I just had to keep reminding myself this and calmly concluded to myself that there’s no sense in getting worked up over every single little play – I should save my energy for the big ones. At this time I walked outside for a minute, walked up to my mailbox to get the mail and chatted for a second with a neighbor – just to get the game off of my mind for a minute so I could come back and watch it with a much more calm demeanor. I knew I wasn’t going to be gone very long, and I really wasn’t… After going through my little calming-down ritual of taking a quick walk outside, I walked back into my house to see on my television the yankees scoring a run. I was fucking pumped. Getting that initial first point was a huge boost of confidence to my bet — I knew that it wasn’t over, but at least I was winning.

You guys know that feeling — when your team is ahead by one point in the very early stages of the event… when there’s still an eternity of game left to be played and the lead that your team currently has could easily be but a footnote in the grand scheme of things… but you’re a little less fucking tense and nervous, because you’re currently winning your bet. This was great. I hoped and prayed for nothing but boring ass baseball from here on out. I wouldn’t shed one tear if the game were to end with nothing else noteworthy occuring. I just wanted this emotional rollercoaster of a mess that I had gotten myself involved in by placing a bet literally around fifty times bigger than any other bet I had ever placed before behind me. I just wanted the god damn baseball game to be over, and I wanted it to be over with me winning.

One of my childhood friends decides to spontaneously show up at my house to say hello since he was in town visiting, and naturally I invited him inside and offered him a beer of which he accepted and was now sitting on my couch watching the same baseball game as me. I had to tell him what I had done, because there was no way I was really interested in talking about anything much other than this baseball game right now (unless it was commercials LOL). I told him what I had done and he was stunned I had such a large amount of money riding on the game and he told me that he hoped for the best. It was at that point I described to him the same emotions of adrenaline, excitement, and dread that I just finished telling you guys about. He didn’t really seem to be able to relate, but that was okay… at least I was able to tell somebody about what I was going through.

The baseball game goes on without much action until the 3rd inning. At this point I was much more calm and collected than I was at the beginning of the game, but I was still dreading the mid-way point of the game as that is generally where all of the bets that have fucked me in the past have initiated said fucking… rarely ever did I lose in the 8th or 9th on my bets… it was usually in those god damn middle innings. We were almost to that midway point… it was the bottom of the 3rd inning. The Yankees brought it hard to start by getting two outs off of the first two batters to make it appear to be a quick 1-2-3 inning (which is EXACTLY what we were hoping for at this point since we were ahead). Then… it’s like the internet gods trolled me… the god damn 3rd batter of the bottom of the 3rd inning, Javier Baez… hits a mother fucking dinger to left field to shove a fucking spike through my heart. The fucking game was tied now. The asshole clench went up two complete intervals of clench at this point. GOD DAMNIT.

You know how I said i wanted some boring ass baseball before? Well, we definitely fucking got some. Except it was AFTER they tied the god damn baseball game. The 4th through the 6th innings were complete and utter garbage time — nothing noteworthy happened. Thankfully, Aaron Judge appeared like a saint from heaven in the top of the 7th inning to nail a triple which managed to score a run for the Yankees and bring them up by a point. We were now at a score of 2-1 and the game was almost over. I felt good. I was winning again. I just took a few deep breaths and watched the game unfold before me.

Nothing else managed to happen until the Yankees were up to bat again in the top of the 8th… at this point the Yankees delivered some fury by immediately getting a single followed by a homerun to put them ahead by 3 points with a score of 4-1. Holy shit — i was winning my bet by 3 entire points, and the cubs only had two more innings to try and beat the Yankees. FUCK YES. I felt like a kid in a candy shop at this point. I really felt like I had the bet won.

The game was nearly won — the Yankees just had to put the Cubs out of their misery in the remaining bottom of the 8th and bottom of the 9th innings — and i’d have won my bet and been ecstatic as all fucking hell. The bottom of the 8th came and went without the Cubs being able to execute anything noteworthy on offense… We were finally in the 9th inning. I just needed to watch one more inning of baseball and it was all going to be over. The Cubs were going to need a miracle to get 3 more points… but shit is never over until it is over. The Cubs came out strong in the bottom of the 9th for this game… tallying up a walk, three singles, and giving two points way to the cubs with only one strikeout in between. The fucking score was god damn 4-3 now and there was only one fucking out. The hairs on my back started to prickle with rage at this moment… i’m sure many of you reading this can relate to what i’m talking about… you know… when your almost win is fucking destroyed by someone going full stupid and effectively ruining the game for their entire team because they just aren’t having a good night. Chapman was definitely not having a good night.

At this point I was full pace. I was saying things like “Just get two more outs. Just get him out. Strike him out. Come the FUCK ON. “ during this entire inning as well. Given the circumstances of the bet I had on for this game and what was unfolding before my eyes, this was some intense fucking baseball. I fucking hoped and prayed that we wouldn’t fuck it up. I really did. Chapman appeared to gain a little bit of composure when he managed to get a second strikeout, and which point the hairs started to prickle just a little bit less.





Because for some reason the sports gods hate me… the Yankees closer that night, Aroldis Chapman was fucking up bad. He had given up a walk, stolen base, and three singles already in a game that the Yankees were winning three points by. It was the bottom of the 9th inning, the yankees were ahead by 1 point… there were two outs and the bases were loaded. All that Chapman had to do was get an out and the misery would be over. But he did not get an out in this instance, instead… he hit the batter on the very first pitch with the fucking bases loaded.

REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.

I broke my kindle. I needed to smash something and that was the closest thing to me. I was fucking PISSED. Much more angry that I could potentially be losing this bet because of some fuckery rather than being beaten straight up. I was ten times, POSSIBLY ONE HUNDRED times more mad I could potentially lose this bet to something that was a FUCK UP rather than an actual ass whooping. Had the cubs hit a grand slam instead I wouldn’t have really been mad… but going into extra innings because of a hit batter? Oh mother fuck no.

Then it began. Little did I know I would have to suffer through nine more innings of baseball. We were in overtime and all that had to happen was one of the teams needed to finish an inning with a score higher than the other… but we got to witness a display of some boring ass baseball for what seemed to be like a fucking eternity. By the time it got to the 15th inning I just wanted to stop watching baseball, because if I were to lose my bet at that point I would’ve just been exhausted and tired from all the excitement of 6 hours and 5 minutes of baseball.

The fucking yankees did it. They won the god damn game, but it took 18 innings to do… and it was still close as all fucking hell (a wide throw to a 3rd base runner trying to reach home during a grounder was the final play of the game).. And boy was it one hell of a ride.

I don’t think i’ll ever get to experience something quite as unique as this game… but the moral of the story ladies and gentlemen is this: the game is never over until the fat lady sings.

I was so ecstatic when I got my payout from that bet. I have never bet an amount as big as I did on that game since, though I have placed a few big ones 🙂

Here’s some highlights of the game I was talking about 🙂



