Quote:
Originally Posted by Dominic
how exactly do you make bets with this one???
Boy, was I hoping you'd ask!
Imagine you're watching a game in the sportsbook.
ME: What would you say, there are about 30 people here?
MARK: That sounds about right.
ME: What odds would you give me, that I could find two people here who share the same birthday?
MARK: What?
ME: I say that there are at least two people here who share the same birthday. Not necessarily the same YEAR, just the same month and date, like "March 27". What odds would you give me?
MARK: I don't know. 1000-to-1?
ME: Aw, come on. It's only 365-to-1 that
you and I have the same birthday. Give it some thought.
MARK: This is a set-up, right? You've already asked everyone their birthdays?
ME: I assure you, except for my own, I don't know anyone's birthday.
MARK: (Looks skeptical)
ME: OK, forget these people. ANY group of 30 people. You can name 30 famous people, and we'll look up their birthdays. What price would you give me, if I say we find a match?
MARK: (quickly divides 365 possible birthdays by 30 in his head, comes up with about 12-to-1) I'd give you 3-to-1.
ME: You're way off. I'm actually a 4-to-1
favorite.
MARK: How can that be? That doesn't make any sense!
ME: I don't know the math behind it, but they say that with 23 people, it's about even money, and I'm a big favorite with 30.
MARK: Bobby, you must be wrong about this. I'll bet you $5, even money.
***
I actually had this exact conversation one slow day in the sportsbook with Andy, the ticket writer on the next stool. He insisted I must be wrong, and wanted to bet me $100. I insisted we keep it friendly, and we bet $5. When the supervisor heard the story, he wanted $5 on it, as well.
The subject came up when a secretary came up to us and asked for our birthdays. When I saw that a list of birthdays was being compiled, and I knew that we had about 30 people working in the race/sportsbook, I was reminded of this old gag.
We bet $5, and sure enough, there was a match. Lynette and Jackson were both born on July 11th.
Andy refused to pay. He was certain that I must have seen the entire list of birthdays before offering the bet.
I was a little insulted, but it was a natural thing for him to assume. I agreed that sample could be thrown out, and we'd use 30 people who were strangers to me, and he could pick them.
This was pre-internet, and our only resource that listed anybody's birthday was a thick, hard-bound copy of
The Baseball Encyclopedia, a book that had been collecting dust in the office for so many years, nobody could remember how it got there.
I invited Andy to write down the names of thirty famous baseball players, and I'd look up their birthdays. He wrote down the names of legends, guys who were certain to be mentioned in a baseball encyclopedia: Ruth, Gehrig, Cobb, Aaron, etc. I only made it about 12 names down the list before finding a match: Jackie Robinson and Ernie Banks, January 31.
Andy shocked me by again refusing to pay. He said it was obviously a set-up, that I would know he would use those two guys when asked to name thirty great baseball players.
Now I don't blame Andy for being suspicious--he had spent the last two afternoons listening to my extensive knowledge of sucker bets and con jobs, and it's probably hard to trust anyone who is so versed in how to steal--but this accusation was outrageous. Forget the fact that it's absurd that I would base a bet on such a longshot prediction--I'm an honest guy, and I deeply resented the accusation of doing something underhanded for $5,
especially when I told him about the gaffe up front!
I'm riled, but I don't care about the $5...oops, make that $10, because the supervisor, after hearing both sides of the dispute, said simply, "If Andy's not paying, then I'm not paying."
I offered to throw out that trial, and let Andy pick thirty different players. I suggested he pick more obscure players, players I wouldn't "know" he would pick. The book listed more than just Hall of Famers, it seemed to list every man who ever played a single game in the majors.
Andy was from Texas, and he front-loaded his list with Texas Rangers from his childhood. Again, I barely made it one-third the way through the list before finding a match: Mike Hargrove and Toby Harrah, October 26.
Incredibly, Andy again refused to pay. This time, he said, I "knew" that he would stock his list with Rangers from the 1970s. As ridiculous as his protests sound, he genuinely meant them.
"Bobby, I've been listening to these stories from you all week. You're a cheater and a conniver," he said with a smile on his face. He was shocked that I would take offense to such insult. He thought he was merely pointing out the obvious.
At least I would get some vindication from collecting from the supervisor, right?
"If Andy's not paying, I'm not paying," he said simply.
Now I'm hot. I stop talking to each of these guys. They really don't see how they've insulted me.
About two weeks later, one of the guys brought in some Upper Deck NBA cards, and left a few opened packs on the desk. Thumbing through them, I saw that they each had the player's DOB on them. I told the supervisor, "Pick 30."
He did. Again, we quickly found a match.
He pulled out his wallet, and paid me $5.
I emerged from the office, holding the $5 bill high over my head with both hands, cheering loudly. I immediately showed Andy.
Andy was shocked. He charged into the office. "You paid him??"
"It works every time he does it!", explained the super.
Andy reluctantly dug into his pocket for a five, but had nothing smaller than a ten. That's ok, I've got change.
I took a victory lap around the sportsbook, with that Hamilton hoisted high overhead like the Stanley Cup.
(Later that year, I finally joined in one of the office's fantasy leagues, because it's all anyone would talk about at work, and I didn't want to feel left out any more. My hockey team was called The Connivers; my baseball team, The Charlatans.)
Last edited by youtalkfunny; 03-30-2009 at 08:18 AM.