Good Ol' Boys

Mornings were usually quiet in the French Quarter, allowing people to recover from the prior night’s partying. Willie McCann enjoyed having morning coffee at Muriel’s, overlooking Jackson Square. The aroma and flavor of fresh coffee while sitting on the balcony of the two-hundred-year-old iconic French architecture building was special. Rarely did his phone ring in the mornings with any business calls. This Friday, it was different; he knew it would be. Yet, when the phone rang, he let the caller go to voicemail. It was too early to do business, and his line of work couldn’t be done in public. When the coffee and croissant were finished, Willie sighed, accepting that it was time to go to work. After paying, he took the short walk north on Saint Anne Street to his traditional New Orleans one-storey house.

Fifteen years ago, Willie was a banker in Chicago and made a fortune for the bank, but not so much for himself. He knew how to assess opportunities, spread risk, work with top clients, and hide money. Frustration, along with greed, overcame him, and he wanted some fun, so he quit the bank then moved to New Orleans.

With no family of his own, he adopted the city as home. The buzz, the food, the music, the absence of snow and the lifestyle were his energy. The southern culture would be the biggest asset for him. Once you became a member of the ‘good ol’ boys’ club, nobody questioned much, which was important for Willie’s work. Getting into the club wasn’t easy, especially for a northerner. He donated to local causes and attended the right events being held by the people he had to know. After a while, he became a familiar face in the necessary social and political circles. By helping a few power players with investment advice and where to park the profits, he was in the club and able to run his business.

A key ingredient to operating his enterprise was a banker, a friendly banker, a cooperative banker; and he had one in mind. Willie opened a business account at the Gulf Coast Bank of New Orleans. The initial deposit of more than six figures was significant for the small local bank and got the attention of its president, Francis Dupree, locally known as ‘Frank from the bank’. Willie met with him often, gained his trust and cut a deal for Frank Dupree to help Willie….for a fee. The McCann business was in business.

There was no secret Willie was a bookmaker and took sports bets from all over the southeast. It wasn’t easy to be a client though; you had to be referred then vetted by private detectives, for which the prospective bettor footed an expensive bill. After that, a business bank account at the Gulf Coast Bank was required; Frank from the bank would take care of that. In return, clients had a trusted bookie who always offered fair odds and always paid out. Most of all, there was never any police interference. The clientele was the upper crust, the power brokers, the southern aristocracy, the great and the good…. the good ol’ boys.

******

The next day, an historic football game was going to be played. The ’Battle for the Rag’ was an iconic football rivalry since 1893 between Louisiana State University (LSU), located in Baton Rouge, and Tulane University, located in New Orleans. LSU had won every game since 1983 including beating Tulane 42-0 in 2009. After that game, the century-old classic matchup was suspended. Now, in 2013, a one hundred twenty-year reunion game was to be played in New Orleans at the Louisiana Superdome.

Fifty thousand visitors arrived for what would be a classic sports event. The French Quarter of the city was a human river of tourists and college alumni winding slowly throughout the Quarter, in and out of bars on Bourbon, Royal and Decatur Streets. Vehicles weren’t permitted while pedestrian traffic was wall to wall on the narrow old streets. Neon signs dotted the building fronts advertising food, drink, and entertainment. Music poured out of the many jazz clubs, filling the air with sounds of pianos, trumpets, and saxophones, all backing lyrics sung with southern accents. The smells of southern barbecue, crawfish, jambalaya and more were inescapable. Fireworks exploded randomly around the Quarter. The New Orleans vibe was at its peak; the normal party atmosphere of New Orleans had skyrocketed.

LSU finished their regular season with a 10-3 record, while Tulane finished with a 7-6 record. LSU was highly favored to win, and Tulane was the underdog. Betting on Tulane would get a big payout if they won, but it would be illegal. Sports betting in Louisiana wasn’t legalized for seven more years, in 2020.

******

When Willie got home, his black book came out and Bluetooth earbuds were put in place, ready to start taking calls. The first caller’s name appeared on the phone’s screen.

“Hello, I always like to hear from a good client. What’s your hope for today?”

“What’re your odds on the LSU – Tulane game?”

“A bet on LSU is 1 to 5. They’re heavily favored, so the payout isn’t much, after my vig.”

“How about on Tulane?”

“I’m offering 4 to 1 on that today. How much do you want to bet?”

“Can you cover fifty grand on Tulane?”

Willie took his time answering as he wondered why anybody would bet that much on Tulane. Having to pay out on 4 to 1 odds was too risky.

“That’s your biggest bet ever; I keep track of things, you know. I won’t cover a 4 to 1 odds on 50 g’s but will take it at 1 to 1. The vig will be my usual 10%. I’ll have to lay off a lot, but I’ll cover it, just for you. You won’t find anybody else that’ll take that much.”

“It’s a deal, Willie, thanks.”

Throughout the day Willie got more calls betting on Tulane. During the regular season, the punters had bet on their alma mater, LSU. The betting on Tulane bothered him, so he kept dropping the odds and laying off as much as he could. After each bet, he opened his black book and made an entry. He didn’t trust records being on a computer or anything digital.

At the end of the day, the book was closed but not balanced; it never was. His exposure wasn’t quite twenty thousand if Tulane won, which he could cover. If LSU won, he’d profit over one hundred thousand from the Tulane bets.

Willie set the rules of how you contacted him, how he got paid, and how he paid out. All monies flowed in and out of accounts at the Gulf Coast Bank where Frank Dupree watched the activity like a hawk and kept auditors at bay. The sense of safety clients had was worth the admission price. Any client that didn’t play by the rules was dropped, permanently. Willie knew his moneymakers, or rather the betting fools, and also knew the shrewd punters that he lost money on. Like every good bookie, his client base had way more moneymakers than loss makers. Whenever he wanted extra money and some fun, he’d contact a few moneymakers to encourage them to bet on something, anything. Invariably, they’d make bad bets; he didn’t need to help them.

******

Game day arrived with high-octane hype as 83,000 fans jammed into the Superdome for a six PM start. Pre-game noises echoed off the stadium walls with the music of marching bands from both colleges. The 325 musical strutters of the LSU Tiger marching band in its gold and purple took the field first. The LSU fight song filled the air along with the cheers of LSU fans while a team of cheerleaders performed gymnastics as they chanted rallying cries for LSU.

The Green Wave Tulane marching band followed LSU onto the field. Its 145 members performed precision marching drills while not missing a beat of music.

Pre-game pageantry ended with fireworks exploding to fill the stadium air with the smells of sulfur dioxide. Finally, the teams assembled to hear the national anthem sung by a local songstress. The deafening roar of the fans after that made it clear, it was game time.

Willie McCann sat in the back of Teddy’s Tavern watching the TV from a distance. It served his business better to keep a low profile on game days, and the bar was packed with people that wouldn’t notice him. When the LSU Tigers’ offense took the field, the raucous crowd in the bar went quiet. Everybody saw the lineup but were stunned to silence over what they didn’t see. The LSU starting quarterback and running back were on the bench. The TV announcers quickly reported the story; both players were sidelined due to injury. The bar crowd erupted with moans, boos, endless, ‘what the hell’, ‘what the fuck’, and more. Even the usually quiet Willie erupted with, ‘I’ve been screwed! I was suckered! I’ll get those bastards!’ It all made sense then; one of his clients knew about the LSU injuries and shared that with fellow alumni. There was no confusion among the LSU betting alumni; greed won out over school loyalty. Willie mentally said goodbye to twenty thousand dollars.

The game was slow to start, as LSU couldn’t move the ball. Without the two stars, their offense was flat, and the defense was no better. After two quarters of play, LSU had gained only one hundred yards in total. Tulane was on fire. Their quarterback was connecting on every pass. At the end of the first half, it was Tulane 21, LSU 0. Willie thought, ‘Can it get any worse? Thank God I laid off to my bookie friends. They’ll be pissed at me for a little while.’

Early into the second half, the Tulane quarterback took a big hit, a hard hit, and was carried off the field. The new quarterback fumbled the ball on his first play. LSU picked up the ball then ran for a touchdown, causing Teddy’s Tavern, the Superdome, and the state of Louisiana to erupt in cheer. Willie’s hope for an LSU win took life when he joined the bar patrons jumping and yelling. The Tulane offense continued to sputter. The LSU comeback was beyond belief and ended with an LSU victory, 24-21. The LSU offensive coach, Jeff Davis, floated on top of the player’s shoulders as he was carried around the field in celebration.

As the roar in the bar continued, Willie departed for home, where he looked in his black book to confirm the list of people who owed him and how much was due. Debtors all knew the interest rate for late payments and the severe penalty for not paying. Within a week Willie had the money from all but four of the LSU alumni losers, which was very unlike them. Their history was good, so Willie trusted them. Then again, they owed more than ever before. He phoned ‘Frank from the bank’ to be sure nothing was missed. Frank made assurances all monies that came in, were paid over to Willie, but the accounts of the four losers had zero balances. There was no attempt to contact them. The feckless souls would get a visit from local muscle that Willie used when needed. With the black book in its usual hiding spot, and a .38 caliber Smith & Wesson, Model 36, snub nose revolver in hand, he went out.