I know two guys'll bet anything that moves. Pups, ponies, Perfectas, Trifectas, Superfectas, Daily Doubles, fly balls into a sunfield, anything. Quote 'em a line, and they'll have the money out and down before you can say "Jimmy the Greek took a bath in the Series." The Doc works in an office dominated by a half-size poster from the Big A that looks like "Nude Descending a Staircase," and has two front and center season seats for Celtics homegames that he probably bought out of profits. Everything I know--spreads, books, combinations, percentages--the works, I got from him.

I don't bet, though, because I don't have the money, the nerve, or the killer instinct. The Doc'll bet against the home club without blinking, if the line's right. I can't treat teams that objectively. You can't bet on a team you live and die with. It's strictly a question of practicality. The Doc knows no loyalty; it's nothing but comparisons, match ups, weather reports, and instinct.

Doc's friend Hands explains: "The Bucks play, say the Braves, in Buffalo. The line is the Bucks and nine points, so you figure, it's a steal. But Jabbar has a sprained thumb, and the Braves have won 23 straight at home. The Bucks win it, but by only four points. Lotsa people bet big." Meaning that there's always more to any game than strict measures of talent reveal. You've got to research a game before you bet. The bookies don't; their job never goes beyond quoting the line and handling the cash. Despite their practical, day-to-day importance, they're only middlemen in an art. The important distinction is that you bet with your bookie; it's your money, your research, your hunch. He's just doing a job.

Take the Monday night game. When I saw Hands and the Doc at 2:30, the Buffalo weather report was of paramount importance. The combination of rain and astroturf means different things in different ball parks, particularly if one club runs a lot. Then there was Simpson. He'd sprained an ankle the week before. Was he fit? "I hear he's only 50-75 per cent," Hands told me. At 3 p.m., there was no line, but Hands guessed it'd be three points and the Bills (meaning a bettor wins his bet if the Bills win by more than three points). I didn't trust it, the Bills were very young, the Chiefs, even if they didn't quite have the horses, could win on experience. My instincts said bet the Chiefs.

So'd the Doc's. And it cost him $50, because the Bills beat the spread and the Chiefs with ease. No matter, he'll get it back tonight, because the Doc bets the Celtics with near infallibility. Here's how I figure it; the Rockets are improved, the Celts are struggling. The line'll probably be 10-13 points and the Celts. If I'm betting, I'm betting the Rockets.