Why I shouldn't bet on football matches

Ghana-Brazil. Second round of the World Cup. Odds for Brazil to win? 1.27. Odds for Ghana? 10.00.

"Ten?!! If we bet one Euro, when win ten?!!"

My cousin, who shall remain nameless (the one with the letters V, N, A, G and I in his name), was there with me. I turned to him.

"Aren't those good odds?"
"They're great odds."
"Should put some money on it."
"You should."
"Odds are too good. Something's weird."
"Be a man."
"I mean, nine to one are great odds."
"Wanna put the money where your mouth is?"

I hesitated on this one. I've never actually placed a professional bet in my life before. Sure, there's the odd if-Villa-lose-this-I'll-buy-you-a-teh-tarik bet (a lot of teh tariks in that one). But never one at a betting shop.

The next day, Gav- I mean, my cousin - prodded me again at the Internet Cafe.

"I wonder if they have a Michael Essien shirt here," he asked aloud. Essien has been a revelation in this World Cup, a hard-nosed hard-tackler who holds the Ghanian midfield together, and we both admire him.

In the end, I was persuaded. I'd put five Euros on Ghana, and cuz would match me.

"Make sure it's over 90 minutes," he said. We weren't going to get caught out on this one.

The nice lady behind the counter smiled when I went up to place the bet. Odds of 10.00 were good, I was happy.

We got to the bar where were going to have lunch and watch the game. A waitress came up to us and we started talking. She asked who I thought would win the Brazil-Ghana game, and I proudly held up the betting ticket.

"Ghana?!" she said incredulously. "You are very brave."

I pointed to my cousin. "He was going to buy an Essien shirt," I said.

"Who's Essien?"

We educated her. Essien is a god. We worship him on the altar that is World Cup football. Him and Pele, of course.

Finally we settled down to watch the game with our Caipirinhas. The team list scrolled across the bottom of the screen. Midfield: Appiah, Muntari, ...

"Where's Essien?", my cousin asked. "He's not suspended is he?"

I sank lower into my seat.

We watched the TV. Essien was being interviewed. And then they cut to the stunning two-footed-studs-up-tackle-from-behind he made on some poor American player (probably deserved it, by the way).

"He's suspended isn't he?"

My cousin looked at me.

"Just tear up the bloody ticket."

Labels: germany, world cup