Deep Rough - A Thriller in Augusta

Author:Blewitt, Chris; Blewitt, Chris [Blewitt, Chris; Blewitt, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2010-09-01T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 18

If one was to start driving west from Augusta and tackle over 2000 miles, they would end up in a little town called Las Vegas, Nevada. Home to comedians, magicians, showgirls, and concerts, Las Vegas was America’s playground. Free from home, work, children, and even husbands or wives. The common theme that attracted most people to Las Vegas was gambling.

Atlantic City, New Jersey, had gambling, so did Indian casinos, riverboats in some cities, and even race tracks, but no other city in the country had sports books. Find a sports book in Vegas and you could bet on anything: football, baseball, hockey, basketball, NASCAR, horse racing, dog racing, and even golf.

The sports book at Grand Valley Casino was in the older part of Vegas, away from the strip. The casino had been one of the first to offer sports wagering back in the 1960s. Only in the past ten or fifteen years had it become so popular that they had to hire outside consultants to manage the betting lines for each sport. Max Jatter and Rudy Campo were the two men responsible for the betting lines that each sport would have each week. This past week, they had been focused on the Masters.

There were many ways to place a bet on a golf tournament. One could pick a player and hope that he won the event, beating the other 100 plus players. This wager had the highest odds because of the slim chance one particular player had of winning. Chet Walker’s odds to win the Masters were a paltry 4-1 before the event started. After thirty-six holes, though, you could grab him for 15-1.

You could also wager on individual matches. For instance, if Walker was paired with Woolite and Goodspeed that day, you could place a bet on any one player beating the other two. However, the easiest way to bet was to take the entire field that didn’t have odds, to win the tournament; in this case, take seventy golfers against Chet Walker and the fifteen other golfers. These odds were also listed at 4-1.

Jatter and Campo had just finished watching the second round of the golf tournament when Campo finally broke the silence. “Yes!” he said, pumping his fist in the air.

“Mothereffer had to make the effing putt,” Jatter replied. “No way we’re losing this money!”

The two men still had not told their boss and owner of GrandValley, Irwin Roscowitz, that someone had laid one million dollars against Chet Walker to win the Masters. They may not tell their boss. If Walker won the Masters, they may just pocket the million dollars for themselves.

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