roxy

Las Vegas - We'll get back to the NFL Draft tomorrow, but for the Sunday editions, we're gonna roll out a fabulous story from our MAKE 'EM LAUGH, MAKE 'EM CRY library that talks about the biggest $core you ever made, or, the wor$t bad beat that rocked your bankroll.

My friend, partner and co-founder of America's Line, Michael Roxborough, known to the world as Roxy, has a wonderful piece where he goes into the way-back machine to a time when he WASN'T the legendary Roxy Roxborough.

Just in case you're wondering how a newbie from the Bronx found an oddsmaker in Vegas, it was kinda simple. I was writing a sports gambling column for the New York Daily News back in the early 80s, and thought that the odds & lines available could use a new look, and, a new voice. Not being an oddsmaker back in the day, I needed to find one. Where else would you look but Vegas. Was able to track down three guys. Roxy, Larry the Hat and can't remember #3. The Hat proved to be a very hard guy to find, while conversations with Roxy were moving quick. I was out in Los Angeles, consulting on a Richard Brooks movie, "Fever Pitch," with Ryan O'Neal, and Roxy was either flying in or out of L.A. So we decided to meet for dinner at LAX, and nail down our partnership. Obviously do NOT remember dinner, it was back in 1985, but DO remember that we shook hands and started a 30 year experiment that took us into over 150 papers across the U.S. and Canada, and is still rocking every day.

Now that you have the back story, take it away ROX...

"Often when people like to hear stories about gambling wins and losses, it is thought the larger the numbers the better the story. I have won over $100,000 on a Pick 7 at Santa Anita but by then I didn't need the money. So when asked about my biggest bet, it may surprise you. It was just $120. But it was $120 that I could not pay if I lost and would effect the finances of two friends. And that constitutes a big bet in my mind.
The setting is 1970 Vancouver BC, in my rambling-gambling, no sense of responsibility days. I lived with two other deadbeats who spent the days playing the horses, cards and shooting pool with varying successes and failures, mostly the latter. But we were convinced it beat working.
Our rent was $180 of which I had none. Zero. Broke. Shorty. Brown. Tapioca. But the lease was in my name so after collecting $60 from each of my roommates, I now had a bankroll and five days to pay the rent before the 5th.
After agonizing over a Racing Form for Saturday's card at Exhibition park, I found the horse to make my stand. Morning line 3-1 called White Winter. Now of course I could have opted for something odds-on that would increase my chances of winning but it would have left me with just the rent and out of action. So, to the track we all went and rooted home a rather easy 5-2 winner. Little known to my buddies that their portion of the rent rested with that nags fine performance. The kicker was they bet on the horse also.
Now there could be a moral here. There is not. I continued to flout the gods of mathematics with disastrous results for years after. But in retrospect, you cannot really want to learn how to win until you know how much you hate losing."

Great story, but had to reach out to Roxy in Thailand and ask what he meant when he said, 'Our rent was $180 of which I had none. Zero. Broke. Shorty. Brown. Tapioca.'

I knew all the words for broke except Tapioca. Rox E-mailed and told me Tapioca was the gamblers version of Tapped out or Tap City. THX my man!!!

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