Trump, The Eagles, and Reading in the Rain

(to the tune of "Singing in the Rain")

I'm readin' in the rain.
Just readin' in the rain. 
What a glorious gaffe, but
Not my fault, once again.


This is another of those truly absurd bad beat gambling stories. I had absolutely no intention of writing it, but President Trump decided to give a big deal speech on Independence Day, and it was raining. Somewhere in the middle of the speech, the president talked about Revolutionary War airports, and that confused many people, historians and non-historians alike. Did I mention that it was raining? Okay, I guess I did, so allow me to circle back to that in a few minutes. For now, to describe my tale of woe, I'd best start at the beginning. That beginning was 25 years ago.

The Imperial Palace Casino (today The Linq) was a very interesting place in 1994. It had a one-way escalator from the strip sidewalk directly to the sports book, and the owner threw massive private parties celebrating Adolf Hitler's birthday. The IP had a wonderful little snack bar and a nice quiet buffet where you could retreat from the cacophony of Las Vegas Boulevard. My German heritage, in case you were wondering, provided no discounts, although it may have explained my credit line.

Jay Kornegay, who made the Westgate SuperBook what it is today, was running the Imperial Palace sports book back then. The IP sponsored a nice football contest for the masses, and that's where my story really begins.

The weekly contest required that you select the outright winners of every NFL game. No point spreads were involved. You also had to decide whether each game would go over or under 37 1/2 points. The contest didn't use the actual NFL totals; it used the 37 1/2 figure for every game. The first place weekly prize was 4K. I liked the contest because it paid smaller prizes to the top 50 or so. You didn't need a miracle week to make money.

The particular October week in question, I had gotten off to a strong start in the contest and was watching the Dallas/Philadelphia game. I had picked the Cowboys to win. Late in the second half, Dallas had the game well in hand, leading 24-7 in a driving rain. My totals selection for the game, however, was Over 37 1/2, so I needed someone to get another touchdown and kick the extra point. The rain fell harder as the game wore on, and I was getting concerned that there wouldn't be any more scoring. But as the weather intensified, Philadelphia put together a drive and punched it into the end zone, closing the gap to 24-13. I looked down at my contest tally sheet, anticipating that I'd win the total. And no, Philly did not miss the kick in the rain to break my heart. That would have been an acceptable, every-day kind of loss. It would not have been something I'd remember 25 years later.

But let's leap forward to July 4, 2019. President Trump, in front of the Lincoln Memorial, inexplicably mentions the American army seizing airports during the Revolutionary War. Did I mention that it was raining?

I figured, when Trump said it, that he was simply going off script for a moment and made a mistake while winging it. I thought that he had probably transposed the word "airport" for "sea port." People with the beginnings of Alzheimer's often swap syllables in similar sounding words. Alzheimer's or not, it would have been an understandable error.

When the president was made aware of his blunder afterwards, did he say, "I made a silly mistake?" Nope. Did he apologize with, "Forgive my elderly moment?" or "I lost my concentration there for a bit?" Not a chance. He explained the gaffe by saying that the rain had somehow affected the teleprompter, and it had shut down too soon. He also added that it had been hard to read the teleprompter in all of the rain, anyway.

I have no idea if the rain had messed up the teleprompter electronics or if our president simply couldn't read the words. Frankly, I don't much care either way. The only reason that Trump's mistake and excuses flipped my switch is because it sent me back, deja vu style, to that 1994 Eagles/Cowboys game.

Philadelphia had scored to cut the Dallas lead to 24-13. To win the contest total, all I needed was the extra point. I looked down at my contest tally sheet, then looked up to see the Eagles...doing what? Going for two? What?!? I sat there flabbergasted as Philly inexplicably attempted a two-point conversion. They failed. The rain continued. The final score was 24-13. I lost the contest total by half a point.

I kept doing the math in my head. Somehow I must be adding wrong, I thought. But nope. The score was 24-13. Going for two made zero sense.

Rich Kotite was the Philadelphia head coach. He wasn't the best NFL head coach; he wasn't the worst. I couldn't wait to hear his answer in the press conference.

Well, the question was quickly asked. Did Kotite say, "I made a really silly, stupid mistake?" Nope. Did he apologize for losing his concentration, his presence of mind, and his ability to add? No. When asked, Coach Kotite said the rain was so hard that it had made the ink run on the chart that tells him when to go for one or two. I'm serious. Kotite sat at the press conference and blamed his gaffe on ink running and his inability to read it.

Simple addition had evidently not been part of his job description.

It wasn't official until after the Monday night game, and the Imperial Palace's posting of the first place contest ticket on Tuesday afternoon. Then it was official. Coach Kotite's reading in the rain had cost me four thousand dollars. Funny as hell now. Not so funny that Tuesday in 1994.


Bob Dietz -- July 6, 2019