<p> ;</p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><em>Image via Sophia Daniel.</em></p>
<p> ;</p>
<p><span style="font-weight: 400;">A few drinks into a Tulane game day tailgate, my friend and I decided to place a bet: Tulane to beat Southern Miss </span><span style="font-weight: 400;">beating Southern Miss by 18.5 points was basically free money. We each threw $30 on </span><span style="font-weight: 400;">it through Kalshi, a sports betting app, walked into Yulman feeling like geniuses and, about five minutes after </span><span style="font-weight: 400;">kickoff, realized we fucked up. From that point on, I was not really watching Tulane play </span><span style="font-weight: 400;">Southern Miss anymore. I was watching 18.5 points. Every Southern Miss first down started to annoy me, every Tulane touchdown felt way more important than it should have, and </span><span style="font-weight: 400;">I eyed the cash out button on my phone every ten seconds. The weirdest part was realizing that </span><span style="font-weight: 400;">some of the people I was financially depending on to cover this spread are literally my </span><span style="font-weight: 400;">classmates. I could be sitting next to one of them on Monday thinking, respectfully, you </span><span style="font-weight: 400;">cost me $30. That might be the strangest part of sports betting in college: it can turn the </span><span style="font-weight: 400;">people you go to class with into numbers on your phone.</span></p>
<p> ;</p>
<p><strong>We lost. Tulane didn’t cover the spread.</strong></p>
<p> ;</p>
<p><span style="font-weight: 400;">My $30 was gone, Tulane did not cover, and I was left wondering why I had ever </span><span style="font-weight: 400;">convinced myself 18.5 points was free money. The annoying part was realizing I </span><span style="font-weight: 400;">actually had a lot of fun watching the game. I genuinely do not know if I would have </span><span style="font-weight: 400;">been that invested without the bet, and honestly, I do not even know if I would have </span><span style="font-weight: 400;">gone in the first place. Is losing $30 worth caring that much about a Tulane football </span><span style="font-weight: 400;">game? I still don’t know. But I cared about every possession and stayed interested </span><span style="font-weight: 400;">until the end, which is probably exactly why betting has become so normal.</span></p>
<p> ;</p>
<p><span style="font-weight: 400;">Watching Tulane football used to be simple. You showed up, wore green, maybe had a few drinks, and hoped for a win. </span><span style="font-weight: 400;">Now, apparently, that is not enough. Someone needs Tulane to win by more than seven. Someone else needs a </span><span style="font-weight: 400;">receiver to have over 55.5 yards. Somebody took the under; someone has a player prop, </span><span style="font-weight: 400;">and the person sitting three rows away is staring at their phone because a completely </span><span style="font-weight: 400;">meaningless fourth-quarter completion just ruined a six-leg parlay. That is probably my favorite and least favorite thing about sports betting. It can make absolutely meaningless moments feel like the Super Bowl. Nobody cares about a six-yard completion on third-and-14 when a team is down by three touchdowns. But if you need six more receiving yards for your prop to hit, suddenly that is the greatest catch you have ever seen in your entire life. A random Thursday night game between two teams I could not have cared less about can become must-watch television because I decided some quarterback needs to throw for 225 yards. Suddenly I know his completion percentage, his starting receivers, and whether the opposing cornerback practiced on Wednesday. I am doing homework for a team I did not even know existed three hours ago. It gets even weirder when the team you are betting on is your own school. Tulane </span><span style="font-weight: 400;">students obviously walk into Yulman wanting Tulane to win, but betting makes that loyalty a little more complicated. </span></p>
<p> ;</p>
<p><span style="font-weight: 400;">And then I remember who I am actually betting on. These are not just random football </span><span style="font-weight: 400;">players on my TV. Some of them are literally my peers. I could be sitting next to one of </span><span style="font-weight: 400;">them in class on Monday after spending Saturday yelling at my phone because he didn’t make a reception that would have won me a few bucks. That is wild. Like, you. <em>Yes, you</em>. We may have a group project together next week, but you are also somehow the reason I am down $30. </span><span style="font-weight: 400;">Nothing makes college sports betting feel more ridiculous than realizing the person who </span><span style="font-weight: 400;">just destroyed your parlay might also be asking you for the notes from class tomorrow.</span></p>
<p> ;</p>
<p><span style="font-weight: 400;">Betting against Tulane might be the ultimate test. You are supposed to believe in your </span><span style="font-weight: 400;">school. You are supposed to convince yourself every week that the Green Wave is </span><span style="font-weight: 400;">going to win no matter what. But if you genuinely think Tulane is not covering, are you </span><span style="font-weight: 400;">supposed to bet with your heart and lose money, or bet against your own school and </span><span style="font-weight: 400;">spend three hours feeling like a traitor? At that point, betting starts changing what being </span><span style="font-weight: 400;">a fan actually means.</span></p>
<p> ;</p>
<p><span style="font-weight: 400;">I don’t think sports betting has ruined football. If anything, it might bring a level of passion to Tulane gamedays that’s otherwise missing. But is it for the right reasons? I’ll watch games I’d never normally care about, just because I have a bet on the line. It definitely made me more invested in Tulane vs. Southern Miss than I ever would have been otherwise. But sometimes, simply winning isn’t enough. </span><span style="font-weight: 400;">Tulane can win, and you can still walk out of Yulman annoyed </span><span style="font-weight: 400;">because they didn’t win by <em>enough.</em></span></p>
<p> ;</p>
<p><span style="font-weight: 400;">I walked into that Southern Miss game wanting Tulane to win by 19. I walked out with </span><span style="font-weight: 400;">Tulane having played football and me having $30 less than I started with.</span></p>
<p> ;</p>
<p><strong>Would I do it again?</strong></p>
<p><strong>Unfortunately, probably would! </strong></p>
<p><br style="font-weight: 400;" /><br style="font-weight: 400;" /></p>
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The Spread is the New School Spirit
