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Beware the perils of wagering
Commentary by Chris Clegg
South Peace News
Despite what the Good Book orders, I do enjoy a good wager. I’m not like some, who will bet on anything, but it’s good fun to wager with a friend.
One of my friends, Chris Hunt, likes a good time. I’m sure he hasn’t met a wager he didn’t like. We bet a little CFL and NFL amongst ourselves; most of the time it’s fairly even.
Does anyone remember the Fred Flintstone episode where Fred gets hooked on gambling?
“Bet, bet, bet, bet, bet, bet bet bet bet bet bet bet!” he screams at the thought of a wager.
My friend Hunt is a lot like that – just kidding! – so I tried to hoodwink him one day.
“Tell you what,” I said. “Let’s bet the High Prairie Regals open the regular season at home.”
After consideration, Hunt became somewhat inquisitive.
“Aren’t you on the league executive?” he asked.
“No!” I adamantly said.
And it was the truth.
“But you’re involved with the league and you have input,” he countered.
“Well, maybe a bit,” I admitted.
Finally, Hunt asked who drew the schedule.
“Well, I do,” I sheepishly admitted.
So much for a few easy bucks!
The story reminded me of a couple famous wagers in history. The Earl of Barrymore was a very fit 21-year-old man in 18th century England. He always bragged he was the fastest man in town.
However, it came to be that a very fat butcher, Mr. Bullock, challenged him to a 100-yard race. Knowing he couldn’t win at equal distance, the butcher insisted on a 35-yard head start.
The foolish Earl Barrymore accepted and Mr. Bullock played his trump card. The race was to be held down Black Lion Lane.
If you’ve never been to Britain, Black Lion Lane is one of the narrowest streets in Britain. Parts of the street were barely 40 inches wide. Once the race began, Earl Barrymore quickly caught the portly butcher but there was no room to pass.
Mr. Bullock collected the winnings.
Skullduggery is not limited to men. Throughout history, women have also conned men into winning the odd wager.
When Cleopatra was 30, she wagered her new lover, Mark Anthony, that she could drink $500,000 worth of wine at a single sitting. Anthony quickly accepted the wager and they sat down to settle the score.
Cleopatra quickly pulled two pearls worth 10 million sestertia into her glass of wine, then drank.
A stunned Anthony was defeated, not to mention outsmarted by his lover.
No word if the pearls were recovered, but I’m sure they were!
History is riddled with wagers where one tries to get the upper hand on the other. People who do this quickly gain a reputation as sneaky and underhanded.
I’m sure the Earl of Barrymore wanted nothing to do with the portly butcher. Or at least, he’d be a little smarter next time and not so smug.
And I’m sure Anthony and Cleopatra made up – at least history suggests there was no parting of the ways from her brilliance.
As for Hunt and I, there are no longer any NPHL bets. My feeble attempt at making a few bucks was made in vain.
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