Don Gavin is responsible for what’s likely one of the funnier jokes anyone’s previously written about the assistant absurdities of betting, and while the presence of the author’s old-school Boston accent doesn’t do the bit any favors, here’s how it looks on paper:” I love the humorous signs they put up in the casinos.’ If you have a gaming trouble, call 1-800-GAMBLER.’ So I called’ em up, I said,’ Lookit, I got an ace and a six and the dealer is showing a seven …'” Gavin looks like a kicked-over sandcastle, and everything about his appearance and delivery suggests that this is something that really might have happened one night at Foxwoods. In this case, the “problem” he’s facing has less to do with the degenerate’s much, unhappy glide into debt than a sense of petulant anger at how little the resort’s management thinks of him. Settlers may not have invented the concept of no-limit cooperation, but they certainly have perfected it, if you’re going to waste my time with drivel, expect to find buried by even more bullshit in return. And hoooo child, how the country’s resources of nonsense have proliferated in the post-PASPA period. Now that the sports teams and their press companions have all switched from constantly encouraging followers to hazard a few dollars in the name of good, clean fun, Gavin’s deceptive game signage has evolved into a number of comically affected PSAs. Corporate messaging has a dubious and cynical vibe not existed since FourLoko ( also known as the Poor Man’s Speedball ) gave off its target market of teenage dirtbags to “drink responsibly.” The most recent example of the place-your-bets-but-do n’t-go-overboard genre is ESPN’s” The Talk” campaign, and like most commercials, it’s set in a parallel universe. The second position, which bowed next month, features SportsCenter buoy Elle Duncan as a dishonest wedding crasher. In the lead-up to the younger boy’s wedding ceremony, a dad adjusts his twenty-something brother’s bow in a mirror while everything appears comfortable enough at first glance. We’re four seconds into the scene, and it seems as though the hallucinations are about to start. ” Hey, Son”, says the actor playing the dad as he pats his TV offspring’s tuxedoed shoulder, “before you get married, we need to have … the Talk”. The fact that the groom-to-be appears to be in his late 20s is a major reason for this, which is utterly strange. This conversation should’ve happened 14 years ago, when placing a bet on a game meant dealing with payphones and gabbagool. As the apparently info-poor future husband brushes off his well-meaning scene partner, Elle Duncan walks in and there’s another head feint at the S-E-X talk. But no! Instead of regaling the man with bird/bees intel, Duncan discusses the value of” setting limits while you bet” in this classic misdirection play. Duncan then turns around and begins discussing a longshot parlay the groom had just completed, before telling him that he “hasn’t won since.” Unless there’s been a serious data breach at ESPN Bet, this is information that she couldn’t possibly have at her disposal. Duncan’s message isn’t necessarily ill-conceived. The father accidentally makes sure that the sentiment doesn’t sink in while the dad accidentally launches into the opening strains of The Wedding March, which is repeated in the same way. OK, then. It’s never easy to dismiss a mandated CYA effort as unfettered altruism, but at least the ESPN spot seems like it was made for the generation that’s most likely to spend their money on a certain thing, as one social media wag put it. Young men, a class that all but vibrates with impulse-control disorders, are the most active converts to push-button sports betting. As a former participant in what my dopey friends and I used to refer to as” Golf Cart Smash-Up Derby,” it probably can’t hurt to nag them a little. However, in the 2025-sounding futuristic world, how effective can a PSA campaign be? The old tricks no longer seem to work, and we’re essentially talking about commercial messaging here. When was the last time someone under the age of 40 purchased something after seeing it advertised on television? Can a mechanism that was created by a group of people who have been dead longer than the Arizona Diamondbacks have been a thing influence the behaviors of an entire segment of consumer society? Setting aside the essential disingenuousness of promoting “responsible gambling” —other than teaching an infant how to fire a crossbow, risking the rent on Syracuse (” I’m telling you, man: they’re overdue”! ) is the epitome of irresponsibility; it’s amazing how easily the networks can accept this kind of behavior. And that’s only part of the 30-second pitchcasts for gambling apps. Logos for companies like FanDuel and BetMGM are visible for at least 20 % of the total in-game running time during televised NHL and NBA games. How can they advise us to be cautious when they actually motivate us to care less? Of course, cognitive dissonance makes the world go’ round, and preaching the virtues of responsible gambling while serving as a sort of virtual, non-thumb-breaking bookie is fairly innocuous compared to]gestures at everything]. Around 40 % of the scaffolding that is up in New York is only there because it’s less expensive to rent protective shedding than it is to repair a crumbling façade. Anyway, why raise a fuss when it’s clear that none of this is going away. Since 2018, 38 U. S. states and the District of Columbia have rubberstamped at least some form of legit sports-wagering, which in turn has led to the generation of billions in taxable revenue. Just as your neighborhood now smells like the late, great Bill Walton’s favorite bong in the wake of the legalization of the devil’s lettuce,$ 5, 000 says there’s no dispelling the funky odor of the point spread and the parlay. Wanna bet?