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As I lick my wounds from a rough start to the NFL season, I revisit the absolute worst gambling day I can remember.
After the New York Giants got curb stomped by the Dallas Cowboys at Metlife Stadium on Sunday night to cap off a dismal gambling day, I was down pretty bad. So I started thinking if it was my worst day of sports betting ever. And it turns out, I’ve had worse than a 40-0 shutout. I attended a New York Mets game on October 3, 2010 that is still unrivaled, even to this day.
The Backstory:
In 2006, Carlos Beltran looked at strike three to make the final out in Game 7 of the NLCS. His team was down two runs and had the bases loaded at the time.
In 2007, the Mets had a 12-game lead in the NL East on September 12, but managed to win just five of their last 17 games to miss the playoffs. The nail in the coffin was on September 30 against the Florida Marlins. It was a must-win and the last game on the schedule, but Tom Glavine promptly surrendered eight runs in the first inning en route to an 8-1 Mets loss. It’s still regarded as one of the worst collapses in baseball history.
Just when I thought the misery was over, 2008 came rolling around and the Mets were eliminated from the playoffs on the last day of the regular season – again by the Marlins. After emerging victorious in a must-win game the day before, behind a legendary Johan Santana complete game shutout, the Mets simply needed a win or a Cubs loss on September 28 to secure a playoff spot. Unfortunately, you all know the Mets reputation – neither scenario came to fruition.
After a season to forget in 2009, I found myself in Las Vegas during 2010 Spring Training with some time to kill and some money to spend – definitely a dangerous combination for a Mets fan. This is where the story of my most torturous sports day begins.
With a few hours to kill before dinner, I found myself in the Caesars sportsbook examining the MLB futures bets – specifically the over/under win totals for the year.
About halfway down the list, I found my beloved New York Mets accompanied by an over/under projection of 79.5. To me, this seemed like easy money. The Mets had finished 2009 with only 70 wins, but the season had been littered with injuries – David Wright, Carlos Delgado, Carlos Beltran, and 60% of our starting rotation had spent significant time on the disabled list. The 2010 campaign was going to be a return to form, in my opinion. Alongside a healthy Wright and Reyes, the Mets added outfielder Jason Bay in a $66 million offseason deal (we all know how that turned out, but at the time it seemed like a great idea). In my mind, there was just no way the 2010 Mets were going to finish with a losing record.
So what happens next is fairly predictable. I walked up to the betting window and emptied half of my checking account on the Mets to win over 79.5 games. Little did I know that in seven months’ time, I’d be at Citi Field watching a 79-82 Mets team take on the Nationals on the last day of the season. While postseason hopes were dashed for both teams, my over bet would still be very much in play.
We won’t get into the problems that plagued the Mets that year. There were injuries, there were brain farts, and there were walk-off errors against the Yankees (right, Luis Castillo?). If you really want to read about that train wreck in more detail, I encourage you to head over to Wikipedia. However, there is one player that you need some more information about, in order to grasp the sheer agony that I experienced on October 3, 2010. His name is Oliver Perez.
In 2006, Perez used just his third major league start to wow the Mets’ front office by delivering a complete game shutout against the arch-nemesis Atlanta Braves. When two starting pitchers went down late in the year, the inexperienced and untested youngster shockingly made the playoff roster.
From there it was a rollercoaster. He had some okay moments in the playoff run, pitching well enough in Game 7 of the NLCS to keep it close enough for Beltran to blow it. He parlayed that into a solid 2007 campaign, winning 15 games that year.
In 2008, things got shaky – but apparently a 10-7 record with an ERA over 4.00 is enough to warrant a three-year $36 million deal before the 2009 season. But just 91 days after signing his big deal, Perez went on the disabled list on May 6 and was not seen again until early July. From there he made a few spotty starts, and was diagnosed with patellar tendinitis on August 26 – undergoing season-ending surgery and finishing the year with a 3-4 record and a 6.82 ERA.
On May 15, 2010, after a start to the year that can only be described as “gross”, the Mets tried to send him down to the minors to get his mechanics (and his head) straight. However, as he was given the right to do in his super-savvy contract, Perez repeatedly refused the training assignment and was instead relegated to the bullpen and used only six times (all in mop-up roles) for the rest of the year. He would ultimately finish the season with an 0-5 record and a 6.80 ERA – but we’ll get to that.
You can now understand the frustration and downright hatred that Mets fans had for this kid, who once showed so much promise, but was now content to sit in the bullpen, eat sunflower seeds, and collect a fat paycheck. Now that we’ve established that important piece of background, let’s get back to the story.
The Actual Story:
After suffering through the entire season via television, a friend of mine had seventh row seats to the schedule’s October 3 conclusion against the Nationals and I was invited. While I wasn’t super thrilled to go see two teams play a game with no postseason implications, my Vegas bet had all come down to the last day of the season. With a Mets victory, I’d be doubling money from all those months ago. With a loss, I’d never see those hard-earned dollars again. These implications, as well as a legitimate excuse to get drunk on Four Loko in the parking lot during the day, was reason enough to accept the invitation and watch first-hand as the Mets again failed in epic fashion.
The game started off innocently enough – the lackluster, meaningless-game effort of both offenses allowed starting pitchers Mike Pelfrey and Livan Hernandez to cruise through the first four innings. In the top of the fifth, I began to worry as Pelfrey walked Roger Bernadina to open the frame, who subsequently came around to score on an Alberto Gonzalez single. However, Pelfrey didn’t let it get to him and was able to work out of the inning without further damage.
In the bottom of the fifth, things were looking good. The Mets had the bases loaded and nobody out. Livan was in some trouble. Catcher Josh Thole promptly grounded into a double play. It wasn’t the absolute worst outcome, as Angel Pagan came across to score and tie the game. However, that was the chance to bust the game wide open and win me some cash!
Scoring just one run in an inning that began with the bases loaded and nobody out didn’t feel like a great omen. At that moment, some dark clouds started rolling through Flushing and the Four Loko started making me pretty jittery and nauseous. It felt like the Nationals were about to make me pay for the brazen confidence I had in the Mets all those months ago.
But fortunately, the sixth, seventh, eighth, and ninth innings all went scoreless. My friend departed, needing to head to East Rutherford and catch the Giants game later that evening. I was alone at Citi Field, my buzz was quickly becoming a hangover, and I was intently watching a 1-1 tie between two of the worst teams in baseball. What the fuck is wrong with me?
“Oh well,” my caffeine-and-alcohol-addled brain reasoned, “We weathered the storm and made it to extras. We’ll win this cash in walk-off fashion and I’ll be glad I stayed to see it live”.
Boy, was I wrong.
The tenth, eleventh, twelfth, and thirteenth inning all went scoreless. The Mets never managed to get a runner past second base and struck out seven times in the four extra frames. Things were not looking good.
Heading into the fourteenth, the Mets were essentially out of pitchers. Two men were left in the bullpen. One was Pat Misch, an ineffective minor leaguer who came up when the rosters expanded but hadn’t made a major league appearance yet. The second was none other than the elusive Oliver Perez.
Of course, Perez trotted out to the mound to a chorus of boos, profanity-laced insults, beer cars, and soda cups. I felt the lump grow in my throat. My huge bet, one that had spanned 161 games to this point, was now relying on a pitcher who was shakier than my stomach after a Chipotle run. I crossed my fingers and fastened my proverbial seatbelt. I knew it would be a wild ride. Yet, nothing prepared me for what unfolded.
The first batter Perez faced was Ian Desmond, who promptly struck out swinging. “Okay,” I said, “Not bad”.
Then things got hairy when Adam Kennedy got plunked by the very next pitch and took first base. Kennedy promptly stole second with the next man, Roger Bernadina at the plate.
With one out and a base open, Perez pitched carefully to Bernadina and eventually walked him. There were now men on first and second with only one out – time for Oliver to get serious.
Catcher Wil Nieves came up to the plate to hit for the pitcher. Perez was all over the place during this at-bat, clearly having immense difficulty locating the strike zone. Nieves walked and loaded the bases. That’s right; Oliver Perez had now issued three straight walks to load the bases.
Then some punk named Justin Maxwell came to the plate, bases full of Nationals and only one out. “Please, please, please get a ground ball,” was all that I could think at this point. However, Maxwell never even had to swing the bat, let alone put the ball in play. Instead, he walked on four pitches and the go-ahead run came across to score. The Nationals took the lead 2-1, scoring without the benefit of a hit, and my over 79.5 wins ticket from Caesars was all but burned.
Shockingly, it didn’t get worse. With the bases still loaded, Jerry Manuel (remember him?) executed his last pitching change as Mets manager by pulling Perez. Oliver and Jerry exited the field through an even bigger rainstorm of cans, cups, half-eaten pretzels, and other assorted pieces of trash. Not surprisingly, this was the last time anyone would see either of them in a Mets uniform. Five months later, the Mets would unconditionally release Perez and eat the $12 million that remained on his contract.
The Mets still had a chance to tie or win in the bottom of the fourteenth. But after that travesty, who could really expect much? Needless to say, Pagan lined out, Duda grounded to first, Thole walked, and Tejada hit a weak fly ball to center field. The sun had set on the 2010 Season – and also on my futures bet. The New York Mets finished the season at 79-83, just one win shy of doubling my investment.
I still wonder about that ticket sometimes. As frustrated fans littered the field with garbage and booed the living piss out of their team, I launched that Caesars voucher somewhere near the first baseline. I almost wish that I had kept it. Maybe somewhere down the line, Oliver Perez will be doing a signing at a bank or a shopping mall somewhere. I think it would have been really funny to have him autograph it.