I took this photo a few hours ago on a corner in Laguna Niguel.
It reminded me of something worth sharing …
Even though I’ve devoted much of my life to sports, I’ve actually only placed one wager.
The date was June 27, 1988. Mike Tyson and Michael Spinks were fighting for the world’s heavyweight championship. I was 16, and it was the summer before my junior year at Mahopac High in rural New York. A bunch of us were gathered at Ari Pollock’s house to watch the brawl.
Seconds before the pugilists entered the ring, someone asked if I’d wanna wager five bucks.
“I think Spinks is gonna shock the world,” I said.
“No way,” he said.
“Yes way,”I said.
“Wanna bet $5 on it?”
“OK,” I said. “But it’ll be fun taking your money.”
We shook hands. Spinks entered the ring. Tyson entered the ring. Tyson looked like a bull hopped up on steroids. Spinks looked like a scared child.
Opening bell.
Pop.
Pow.
Pow.
Pop.
The fight ended in 91 seconds. Not 92—91. It wrapped with Michael Spinks famously draping the ring like a flashy throw rug.
I surrendered my $5, and immediately hated the idea of handing over money for no bang.
And that was that.
I’ve never gambled again.
And my underwear are boxer briefs.
Pardon for asking, but what do boxer briefs have to do with any of this?
Good choice. Not gambling, and the underwear.