Don’t bet on it

Idon’t generally place wagers on sporting events. I don’t know as much as the people who set the odds or the sharp bettors. I am part of the public, the potential pool of irrational and information-light bettors who make it possible for casinos to build palatial hotels adjacent to their gambling dens. If I bet, I might win, but if I continue to bet, I will lose.

And if I enjoyed betting enough, I might consider these losses the price of my entertainment. But when it comes to losing money in a casino, any more than, say, $20, I start to feel a little queasy, and a little stupid, because, after all, I know how casinos and sports books (and state lotteries) work.

I would rather stay in a hotel with a casino where my stay is subsidized by the punters in the windowless rooms next door and find diversion elsewhere. People like to gamble, and most people can do it responsibly, but it’s simply not that much fun for everybody. I’d rather play golf, where I might entertain a $5 Nassau, but then I’m betting on my own abilities, not on some 18-year-old who never shot 500 free throws in one session.

Today’s Super Bowl exemplifies the reasons I do not bet.

The San Francisco 49ers are a better team than the Kansas City Chiefs. Even if you give the Chiefs the benefit of close calls, the 49ers have a significant talent advantage up and down the lineup.

Yet comparing position-to-position is of limited benefit. Travis Kelce obviously will not be on the field at the same time as George Kittle. Kelce will play against the 49ers’ defense, and while the 49ers will make adjustments to try and stop him, he has been the Chiefs’ most reliable receiver all year. Its a good bet that Kelce will get more targets and receptions than Kittle, who plays somewhat in the shadow of 49ers’ running back Christian McCaffrey and wide receiver/combo platter Deebo Samuels. That’s to say the 49ers don’t need Kittle to catch a lot of passes and compile a lot of yards, while the Chiefs do need Kelce to do exactly that.

Since there is only one football, having four or five explosive players on a team isn’t that much better than having one or two playmakers. Kelce fits the Chiefs’ scheme, which maximizes his value. Kittle is relatively underutilized in 49ers coach Kyle Shanahan’s offense; he’s a valuable player over the course of a season, but in any given game he might not have much of an impact.

Kittle’s talent in any given game might be redundant. It’s likely the Chiefs’ defense will focus more on stopping the 49ers’ McCaffrey and Samuels.

Also consider that not every position in football is created equal. There is more inherent value in having a good quarterback than in having a great outside linebacker, and the Chiefs have a quarterback who might be the greatest ever to play the game. (Let’s abstain from this tedious debate for two reasons: Who cares? And if you never saw Johnny Unitas, we can’t have a serious discussion.) But let’s stipulate that the bizarrely talented Patrick Mahomes is the best football player alive right now.

Mahomes plays the game in a different way than any quarterback; he alters his arm angles and moves through space in ways we’ve never seen a professional quarterback do before. He reminds me more of Pete Maravich than Tom Brady.

So while 49ers quarterback Brock Purdy is unfairly maligned as a “game manager” who is a product of Shanahan’s system (which, to be fair, did get the 49ers to the Super Bowl with Jimmy Garoppolo under

center), there’s no question that the Chiefs have a huge advantage at the most important position in the game.

But here’s the thing: On any given Sunday, any NFL quarterback can outplay any other NFL quarterback. Mahomes could have an average game; Purdy could have a great one. (Again, they are not playing against each other.)

Mahomes can’t catch his own passes. And, aside from Kelce, the Chiefs’ receivers have been inconsistent this season. (Though they have been better in the playoffs.)

One of the most interesting things about American football is that, at the highest level, a team’s talent level is not necessarily determinative of how well the team plays. Talent can be negated; football is the team sport where coaching and game planning matter the most.

As Bum Phillips once said of Bear Bryant, a great coach “can take his’n and beat your’n, and then he can turn around and take your’n and beat his’n.” Kansas City coach Andy Reid is generally considered among the best of all time, and before he retires he might rack up the most all-time wins. (If 65-year-old Reid averages 11 wins per year—which might not be impossible given 17-game regular seasons and a quarterback who might be the greatest of all time —it will take him seven years to pass Don Shula as the alltime regular season win leader. In the process he’d probably pass Bill Belichick as the all-time leader in post-season wins too.)

Shanahan is no slouch, either, and maybe the only thing Reid has on him is longevity (and Mahomes).

But even more than talent and scheme, what decides post-season football games is which team better capitalizes on the unexpected opportunities that arise in the flow of the game—like turnovers, bad calls and mistakes which can lead to explosive plays. In other words: luck.

That doesn’t deter those who like to gamble.

But for someone like me, who believes the 49ers are a better team but sees no sense in betting against Mahomes, it’s not hard to stay away. Chiefs by a field goal, 27-24.

And Kelce proposes to Tay-Tay on the field after the game.