Point Spread's Origins
If modern sports gambling has a spiritual father, it's a Chicago bookmaker named Charles McNeil.
When Mr. McNeil quit his job as a securities analyst to devote himself to gambling in the 1930s, its conventions were very different. Bets on a sport like football were based on "straight" odds: If Army was favored to beat Navy, for instance, the game might be offered at 7 to 1. The problem: If the game wasn't expected to be close, it was difficult to find anyone willing to bet on the favorite.
For bookmakers, this was bad news. When taking bets, the only safe strategy is to balance the wagering -- to make sure your liability is the same no matter what happens in the game. By splitting all the bets and factoring in a small commission, or "juice," a bookie will always profit.
Mr. McNeil's solution was to switch the focus from which team would win to something less predictable: the final scoring margin, or point spread. Rather than favoring Army at 7 to 1, bookmakers would set the spread at a logical number -- say 10 points. If Army "covered" the spread, or beat Navy by more than 10, Army bettors would win. If Army failed to win by 10, or lost, Navy bettors would collect.
The system worked impeccably. Not only did it increase betting, it made it much easier for bookmakers to stay balanced. If the public bet heavily on one side of a game, bookmakers would shift the point spread until smart bettors began making wagers on the other side. Most of the time, the bookmakers and wiseguys would win while the public got clobbered.
The problem with Mr. Stoll's emergence is that he threatens to undermine this equilibrium. By sharing his advice with the public, he's creating more sharp bettors. And by enabling them to bet as one, he's made the sports books more vulnerable to bad lines.
A Word of Warning
While they make money, Las Vegas sports-betting operations are not especially profitable. A typical Nevada sports book produces about $600 in revenue per square foot -- less than one-third of the revenue generated by slot machines or "pit" games like craps and blackjack. All told, sports books generate only about 1% of the state's gaming revenue. If they weren't such a draw for casino visitors, they might have been paved over by now.
What's not clear is what may happen if their profits continue to shrink at the hands of a talented tout.
The job of defending the casinos falls to the handicappers at Las Vegas Sports Consultants, one of several companies the casinos hire to supply betting lines for their sports books. The company's chief operating officer, Ken White, learned the handicapping business from his father and worked his way up from taking parlay cards at a sports book to opening his own consultancy. He works 70 hours a week and rarely takes a day off.
Inside the black notebooks on his desk he keeps "power ratings" for hundreds of teams ranging from the Dallas Cowboys to the Marist College men's basketball squad. They are based on a mix of algorithms and subjective factors that he calls "70% science and 30% art." He acknowledges that Mr. Stoll and his followers have cost the sports books money lately. He's instructed his staff to study Mr. Stoll's picks.
But over the years, Mr. White says he's seen enough touts get hot to know how the story ends. The more the point spreads move, the less effective his advice becomes. And when the bookmakers figure him out, his disciples will drift away. "He needs to enjoy this while it's going on right now," he says.
18 Hours and 4% Better
Bob Stoll's handicapping career began at Berkeley when he entered a $2 NFL pool and, after doing a few minutes of simple math, won $100.
From then on, his statistics classes became excuses to feed football data through campus mainframes. After winning 63% of his bets in three years, he quit school to become a tout.
He built his business by publishing a betting guide, advertising a 900 number, writing columns for gambling publications and appearing on radio shows. He also waited tables. In 1998, as 900 numbers began to fall out of vogue, he made a desperate move: He equipped his Web site to take credit cards. Over the next six weeks he made $30,000, he says, "and that was that."
For most of his career, Mr. Stoll handicapped teams by looking for situations or "angles" that had a way of predicting future results. If a college football team was favored by seven points or more in a minor bowl after losing their last game, for instance, Mr. Stoll would know that the last 36 teams who met that criteria had covered the point spread only eight times. If one of these strong angles applied to a team, he would bet accordingly.
But after a losing season in football in 2003, Mr. Stoll decided to add another layer of rigor. For NFL games, he'd built a mathematical model to project how many points each team was likely to score in a coming matchup. With three years of data and hundreds of hours of tinkering, Mr. Stoll built a math model for college.
As well as these methods have worked, they have done nothing to cut his workload. In the months when basketball and football overlap, Mr. Stoll works 18 hours a day nearly every day, sleeping in bursts of no more than four hours. The carpet below his desk chair has been worn bald. "I tell him to stand up so he doesn't get blood clots in his legs," his wife says.
Much of his time is spent making tiny adjustments. If a team lost 12 yards on a running play, he checks the game summary to make sure it wasn't a botched punt. He compensates for the strength of every team's opponents. It takes him eight hours just to calculate a rating he invented to measure special teams. Trivial as this seems, Mr. Stoll says the extra work makes his predictions 4% better.
Despite his mathematical bent, Mr. Stoll does not discount psychology. If his records show that military teams tend to play their best in bowl games, he'll incorporate that into his analysis, too. "Being creative with numbers is more important than being the best at analyzing them," he says.
All the work culminates on Thursdays when Mr. Stoll sends out his college football "best bet" selections. There are usually four or five of them, all weighted from two stars to five depending on how much his projection differs from the point spread.
For the recent Alamo Bowl, Mr. Stoll's analysis ran 557 words -- covering everything from the likely number of Texas turnovers to the potential impact of Iowa defensive back Adam Shada. While the sports books listed Texas as a 10-point favorite, Mr. Stoll said his math model favored them by only five and his situational angles favored Iowa.
Moreover, he wrote, Iowa would likely be more motivated to play in this minor bowl game than Texas, the defending national champs. He told his clients to bet on Iowa, meaning Texas would not cover the point spread.
The moment he sent this pick to clients last month, the bookmakers were waiting. Within 78 seconds, 10 casinos moved the point spread by as many as two points in Iowa's favor. In the end, the move wasn't big enough. Texas won the game by just two points, confirming Mr. Stoll's prediction.
No handicapper is immune from rough spells. Mr. Stoll has now had two consecutive losing seasons in the NFL. And while he was right about Iowa, his current record in this year's bowls is 1-4. Some of his most recent subscribers are already venting on gambling forums. "So far all he has done is torch my money," writes one.
It's a story Mr. Stoll says he's heard thousands of times from clients who don't look at the long term. Even good bets lose 40% of the time, he says, but some clients don't grasp that. "They think I'm either hot or I'm cold."
If the bookmakers ever put him out of business, Mr. Stoll says he'd be happy to manage his stock portfolio, raise kids, coach sports and maybe run for school board. One thing he won't do is become a professional gambler.
"I'm not flashy by nature," he says. "I don't need three houses and a boat. I just like to handicap. For me, it's about problem solving."
Write to Sam Walker at
sam.walker@wsj.com
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