Never Bet on Irony

Have you ever gone to a sporting event where you had no rooting interest in either team? It's hard to enjoy.

Have you ever gone to a sporting event in Las Vegas where you had no rooting interest in either team? It's very easy to enjoy.

You know, unless you like money.

"They're a lock," my friend Ryan insists, referring to the Brigham Young football team.

"You like everything Mormon," I respond skeptically. And it's true. In Ryan's mind, Eliza Dushku is the hottest woman on the planet, Chet is the coolest cast member on the current season of The Real World, and Rob Morris is an all-time great linebacker.

What's that? You've never heard of Rob Morris?

Exactly.

However, I must say that Ryan's logic is very persuasive in this instance.

"BYU is a three point underdog, right?" an eager Ryan explains. "But that doesn't make sense. Arizona has a worse record, they're inexperienced in bowl games, and they've performed much worse than BYU against common opponents. So why is Arizona favored on the betting line?"

"Why is Arizona favored?"

"Because mormons don't bet!" Ryan exclaims. "All of the Wildcat fans are coming into town placing bets on their team,and meanwhile the BYU fans are going to church. They can't bet. It's against their religion. So of course Arizona is favored on the money line."

"Brilliant!" I respond excitedly. "It would be stupid not to put fifty dollars on Brigham Young!"

"Well, I don't know about fifty..."

"It's settled then. Fifty dollars on the Cougars. I can't see how this could possibly go wrong."

It is mere hours later, as I find myself surrounded by ravenous Arizona fans celebrating a long Wildcat touchdown, that I fully realize the karma implications of placing a football bet based on religious doctrine.

While the BYU contingent in Vegas politely applauds their team, the Arizona fans go wild, easily swinging the momentum of the contest by providing a decided home field advantage. As the final seconds tick away and I realize that the team I have been rooting for all game was destined to lose, and therefore lose me fifty bucks, I look around at the excited Arizona fan base.

"I'm storming the field!" one friend in Wildcat attire yells out.

"I'm coming with you!" adds another.

Hmmm. Why the Hell not?

I move my way to the barricade separating the crowd from the field and jump down, the only fan wearing blue in a sea of red.

As Arizona players soak in the spectacle, euphoric fans converge in the center of the field, snapping pictures and hugging each other in delight.

Meanwhile, I do my best to blend in, conveniently ignoring the fact that my wallet is now significantly lighter and that I had spent the better part of three hours rooting against everyone in the mob that now surrounds me.Ryan does not join us on the field. He left midway through the fourth quarter. When I call him on the phone, he is decidedly humbled.

"Okay..." he laughs, "maybe not a total lock."