Revenge of the Birds
A life lesson about sports gambling
It was the fall of 1976. My senior year at Boston College. I was living in what BC students called the “Big Red House” on the corner of Commonwealth Avenue and Center Street in Newton with 9 other BC seniors. The house was a legendary haunt for partygoers, for Vietnam War veterans who could sleep on the living room couches whenever they were down on their luck and for college and pro sports gamblers.
One of the most extravagant yearly parties that the Big Red House was famous for was the 10 keg affairs that would take place on the Monday of the Boston Marathon. The 26k race traveled right by the house for the final Comm Ave. stretch from Chestnut Hill to Boston.
It just so happened that the year we threw the April Boston Marathon party a stretch limo pulled into the driveway and out walked Paul Newman. He pointed to the kegs and asked, “are they what I think they are?” Yes indeed Mr. Newman! As we handed him a red Solo cup, he told us that he had a few hours to hang out with us while his wife, Joanne Woodward, was downtown filming a marathon movie. Thus, because of Paul Newman, for the next few hours we felt like we were in a marathon movie!
At the time I was accruing thousands of dollars in student loans in order to pay my BC tuition. Thanks to my 35-hours-a-week waitering job down at “Our House” on Comm Ave. in Brighton, I was able to scrape out enough money to pay for the rent and the house’s weekly food contributions. I would take the “Green Line” trolley each day straight from my last class at BC to Brighton. After my night shift, I would have to hitchhike home because the Green Line had already shut down for the night. The amazing thing was when a car would pull over and I would hop in all I really had to say to the driver was “please take me to the Big Red House.” The house was a veritable Boston landmark!
Two of my housemates, Richie and Frodo, were daily college and pro sports gamblers. They had bet on the Yankees that fall so profitably that each of them was driving a new, sporty Mazda and had purchased a big screen TV for their rooms.
Each Friday in the fall, Richie and Frodo had one of their best friends show up to give them the “sure thing” college football bet of the week. For the first 5 weeks everyone in the house was cashing in on the “sure thing” bet of the week. So much so that by halftime of the given game, my housemates were ordering five kegs for the evening’s revelry.
Richie and Frodo kept asking me why I wasn’t cashing in with the rest of them. I told them that I literally had $10 in my banking account and that...
