DON'T CRY FOR ME, EXCEPT ON SUNDAYS

It's Sunday afternoon at the Gold Coast sports book. Usually at this time of the year on a Sunday afternoon the place is hopping like an ant colony after a Louie Anderson outdoor buffet. It's a sea of red, white and black Bulls hats, t-shirts, jackets and knock-off Nike's (no serious bettor waists $125 on Air Jordans when he can go to Wal-Mart for the $45 knock-offs and save the other $80 for a decent point spread). Bulls fans wouldn't be talking about which way to bet the spread, but whether Michael will be wearing his black or red shoes this year and wondering if MJ's in good enough shape to keep his tongue in for the first half as he slams one in from the 30 ft.line; OR if Dennis Rodman (what real man in his right mind would divorce Carmen Electra BEFORE the honeymoon?) will come out in green, pink or red hair, or all three (I had $20 bet on the black and orange Tony Tiger look, now there goes a decent bet) and of course the usual bet on what part of the body Scottie Pippen will grab first as he winces in pain (even money on both hands on the back of his waist as he leans backwards). But now it's all over, now the biggest player left on the Bulls is some guy named Whettingham (sounds more like an English green tea than an NBA player). I guess now we can concentrate on more serious bets like the number of cornrolls on LaTree Spreewell, or how many times he can wrap those huge hands around that little coach's neck (I'm in the pool for 5) OR whether Barkley will be playing with an extra 20 or 30 pounds as we gasp at the grace of his 6 inch vertical leap OR whether Ewing will be driven to the games in a Lincoln or Cadillac Limo as he does his batman impression in his black hooded leather jacket (the 90's dark alley look).

Can this really all be true? If we had our choice wouldn't we rather see President Clinton resign and spend HIS time on a golf course out of our faces? After all everyone agrees, we like and trust Jordan MUCH more than Clinton. And what about the Las Vegas sports books? How will they exist? Will they go the way of the Silver Slipper or the Castaways? OR (God help us) the El Rancho (only a few well placed sticks of dynamite could help the place now).

To the small bettor the NBA will take years to earn our respect and get a dime of our betting money, but to the serious better - to quote Joe Hawk, Sports columnist from the Las Vegas Review Journal - "the serious sports bettor doesn't see sports the same way as the casual bettor, he sees it as a business and therefore will not be impacted by any major change. Sports books may find it difficult to establish stable lines and the smart serious bettor will jump on the fluctuation". So as Jordan fans, fans of the integrity of the game, the purity of the game, the excellence in performance for the sake of competition. The people who cheered MJ, forgetting the $30 million a year, betting that he'd score 40 and play the last three minutes of every game as if each game were for the Olympic Gold, don't be concerned about the serious sports bettor or the sports books, as Joe Hawk put it "the NBA will continue to be the NBA - with or without the lockout, with or without Michael Jordan. As long as numbers are posted, money will continue to come through the betting windows". And although they won't see any of that money coming from me, I think I'll still buy my Nike knockoffs from Wal-Mart and save the $80 for 4 Rio Seafood Buffets, instead of betting it on the Bulls (3 by playoff time if I know the Rio) But I'll still wear my Bulls hat on Sunday, after all, it's the only hat I have until April when I can still proudly wear the red, white and blue. No, not the American flag, but my Cubs hat! Because one thing in this world we can always count on are the Cubbies.

And for the loyal Bulls fans who didn't bet the spread, but because MJ was going up against Malone or Ewing, watching basketball will never be the same for years. The sports books will hardly miss our $20-$50 bets. The handful of Bulls loyalists will be lost in the mad dash for the betting windows and we'll fade amongst the $1,000 bettors like farts in the wind, or as someone so delicately put it, like tears in the rain.

PS. Again a special thanks to Joe Hawk, Sports columnist for the Las Vegas Review Journal for his time and input.