Total Loss Weekend

CJ switches to football on the color set, baseball on the smaller one. The auxiliary set isn't working well and a note of cubism is introduced into the baseball game. It is hard to tell whether a particular figure represents one or two players. An infielder's upper torso is situated at a 45-degree angle to the rest of his body. On the radio we have been away from Belmont Park and back to football for fully 10 minutes, but we are only now becoming aware that we are listening to Army-Lehigh instead of Columbia-Princeton. CJ has no action on Army-Lehigh. He does have action on five college games in addition to Columbia-Princeton and Notre Dame-Michigan State, and throughout the afternoon, the evening and much of the night he will spin the radio dial repeatedly between WINS (scores every half hour) and WCBS (scores 12 minutes after the hour and 12 minutes after the half hour). He will curse the announcers for their stupidity, their cheerfulness, the commercials they must read and the public service messages they are inclined to give—messages about puppet shows at Gimbels or talks sponsored by the Young Lawyers' Committee of the New York County Association—always when CJ is waiting for a crucial score. It is in these ways that bureaucracy crushes the dreamer.

The Reds trail 5-1. Michigan State trails 6-0 but seems to be doing things right as the second quarter progresses. With perfect timing CJ switches (radio) from Columbia-Princeton (no score) to the re-creation of the second race at Belmont. With 70 yards to go a horse named Siberian Native threatens to take the lead from CJ's selection, Early Judgement, but the 3-horse holds on to win by a head, and CJ has his double—a sign, an omen, an early-warning signal. He clenches his fist, nods his head firmly and then gets up and switches to baseball on the color set, football on the black and white. "I gamble because when I don't gamble I feel sick," he says.

What does CJ have in his pockets?

1) Tiny pieces of paper.

His selections for the day are written on these mangled scraps. The teams, horses, odds, point spreads and sums wagered are all recorded, very lightly, tentatively, in pencil. It is as though he wants it all to disappear before the weekend is over.

2) A form letter from his finance company.

"As a valued 'Paid-in-Full' customer with a splendid payment record, you are listed on our records as a Gold Star account. This means, of course, that your credit is 'Triple-A'—and you can get up to $——more money right now."

Handwritten neatly in the blank space is the figure 800.

3) An OTB telephone account card.

With this card CJ is able to call the Off-Track Betting Corp., give his code name, find out how much he has in his account and then place a bet—all in the same telephone call. However, he has nothing in his account. The $250 he deposited originally was gone after two phone calls, and now there are zero dollars left. CJ knows this and OTB knows it, too.