Article
Addiction
Comment
Football
Sport
6 min read

An irresponsible gamble

Out-of-date law and human nature mean sports betting is more than harmless fun – it ruins lives, argues Sam Tomlin.

Sam Tomlin is a Salvation Army officer, leading a local church in Liverpool where he lives with his wife and children.

The edge of a football pitch showing an advertising hoarding with a betting brand name on it.
Lars Schmidt, via Wikimedia Commons.

On 21st April 2021 husband and father of two young children Luke Ashton took his own life. Suicide is the biggest cause of death for men under 50 in the UK, but this suicide had a particular source. As recounted by his widow and now anti-gambling campaigner Annie, Luke developed a gambling disorder linked to his support of Leicester City and football gambling more generally. Getting furloughed in the pandemic exacerbated the problem and he succumbed to aggressive advertising on his smart phone, losing more and more money to the point of despair and no return. 

I am not surprised to hear of stories like Luke’s. That’s because I am a Salvation Army officer. Some may view the pledge to give up all forms of gambling when you join its ranks as archaic and over-the-top, but this insistence by the Salvation Army, which was founded in the 1800’s, was a response to the devastation to lives addiction can cause. Far from being a thing of the past, gambling continues to wreak havoc, especially in poor communities like the one I live and serve in today. I have had personal items stolen and pawned to fund gambling addictions and have heard of people losing thousands of pounds in a few hours.  

Recently our church was part of a local campaign to stop an iconic building from being turned into a cashino, something which we and others in our community knew could have a devastating impact. Thankfully the company withdrew the application, probably because of local opposition, but areas of high socio-economic deprivation like ours are always under such threat. 

If you force young people to endorse addictive products, don’t be surprised if they use them.

I have friends who gamble on sport and tell me it is just harmless fun. It makes the experience more exciting when you have money on it, they say, something sports betting companies focus on in their advertising. While not every gambler is a problem gambler (Public Health England estimates there are 2.2 million who either are problem gamblers or are at risk of addiction), I am not convinced that it is harmless fun for two main reasons. 

Firstly, the risk of ‘harmless’ gambling turning into problem gambling is not adequately managed by UK legislation. The 2005 Gambling Act refers more to gambling by post than online gambling and was passed at a time before smart phones. This legislation, intended to boost the economy through liberalising gambling laws, has allowed sports gambling to spiral out of control; 40% of Premier League clubs are sponsored by a betting company with many more in lower divisions. Concerns have been raised about transparency on behalf of these betting companies and it seems clear that these companies exploit the Premier League’s global profile to reach potential customers in countries like China where gambling advertising is banned. Aston Villa recently responded to a supporter backlash against a new sponsorship deal but made it clear that money talks: for clubs outside the top six (who can attract significantly greater deals), betting firms offer ‘twice as much financially as non-gambling companies.’ 

My team, Bristol City, had a gambling sponsor for many years until this season – although ironically children’s shirts had the sponsor changed in a tacit acknowledgement of potential harm. Hypocrisy in football betting runs much deeper though. Ivan Toney the Brentford striker currently faces a lengthy ban for a breach of the FA’s betting rules, but as The Big Step campaign (led by people harmed by gambling) pointed out – with various pictures of Toney receiving awards and shirts with gambling sponsors on them - ‘If you force young people to endorse addictive products, don’t be surprised if they use them.’ 

It is almost impossible to watch a match on TV without being bombarded with free bet offers and the latest deals with former players enticing fans to gamble their money with a few simple clicks on their phones. One recent study questions whether it is possible to gamble responsibly in an age of smart phones, and outlines significant potential harm even for ‘low and moderate risk gamblers — including relationship problems, being distracted, lost opportunities across work and personal life, secretive behaviours, and a compulsion to open and continually re-engage with the app.’ 

A review of the Gambling Act is currently being carried out, but frustration is growing as publication is delayed. While a blanket prohibition on gambling would neither be practical or desirable, campaigners hope that steps will be taken to restrict gambling advertising in much the same way that advertising for smoking has been banned. The gambling industry cite the contribution gambling brings to the economy, but a report by the Social Market Foundation suggested that tighter regulation could actually boost the economy and in 2016 it was estimated that gambling addiction cost the economy £1.2bn a year. For a society built on an understanding of ‘freedom,’ however, as defined by challenging anything that might hinder our individual wills, gambling may constitute the example par excellence of the confluence of social and economic liberalism. Any significant change to legislation will be hard-won. 

The second reason is that gambling promises more than it can ever actually deliver. This is why it so often ends in harmful addiction – it can never truly satisfy what are ultimately spiritual needs, so it continues to draw you further and further in until you are no longer in control but it controls you. 

There are perhaps three main reasons people gamble: the desire to win money, the social aspect and the thrill or excitement. There is no doubt that gambling offers the possibility of fulfilment, to some degree, for all these things: occasionally people win large sums of money, it can make sport more exciting and help make the social experience more fun. 

We are indeed made for community and the communal enjoyment of sport.

As Christians see it, however, gambling offers an unreliable and ultimately unsatisfying route to fulfilling these desires. The Bible warns us about the love of money and encourages honest work as opposed to chance for earning what we need to live It also points to the importance of charity and justice for those who do not have enough. We are made for community and the communal enjoyment of sport is a gift from God (as I have written about in the past). It is perfectly possible, however, to enjoy sport without gambling – really supporting and following a team or player comes with enough ups and downs to produce a wide range of emotions; I have cried, bitten my nails, hidden my head in my hands and hugged random strangers often during one single game. It could be argued that even non-problem gambling contributes to fund an industry that demonstrably preys on vulnerable people, failing the command to love our neighbour. 

We are also created to experience thrill and excitement beyond the mundane aspects of everyday life, but the greatest drama according to the Christian faith is found in being caught up in God’s redemption of the world, ‘reconciling all things to himself’ as we read in the New Testament. As many Christians will testify – even the most exciting Hollywood film is a pale imitation of the excitement and drama of giving up your life to follow the way of Jesus, and this is certainly true of the fleeting and temporary thrills experienced through gambling. 

Unlike some religions which want to supress desire, the Christian faith affirms desire as a good thing. The question is, what our desire is aimed at. Augustine once said that our hearts are restless until they find rest in God. Created things or activities like sex, possessions, money or experiences are good when enjoyed in the right context, but when – like with gambling - they promise more than they can deliver, more often than not it ends in dissatisfaction and potentially even disaster as Luke Ashton’s story tragically demonstrates.  

Review
Culture
Film & TV
Monsters
Sport
5 min read

Horror turns pro: when greatness demands blood

The pursuit of sporting glory turns into a fever-dream of sacrifice, madness, and mythic violence
A player holding a finger to his lips stands in front of an indoor American football pitch.
Marlon Wayans.
Universal Pictures.

October is here…spooky season. Naturally, I’ve decided to pivot exclusively to the horror genre, beginning with HIM

The promotion for the film has placed Jordan Peele (who stormed onto the scene with Get Out) front and centre, so much so that one might be forgiven for assuming that he is the writer/director. He isn’t. His Monkeypaw Productions have produced the picture, and so one can assume he has had some creative input, but the film is helmed by Justin Tipping. This is Tipping’s second feature film. He co-wrote it and directed it. Sophomore, but no slump here. The film is superb! 

All horror fiction explores contemporary themes in the mode of the ‘unnerving’, and often by adopting and then playing with the conventions of another genre. In the case of HIM it is ‘sport’ that takes a horrifying turn. We begin by meeting our protagonist, Cameron ‘Cam’ Cade, as a young boy. He is watching his favourite American football star, Isaiah White, take lead the ‘San Antonio Saviours’ to victory. In the process Isaiah is injured. Cam looks away. His father forces him to look at the television screen and take in the violent scenes, while giving a speech about the necessity of ‘sacrifice’. 

A decade or so later the father has died, and Cam is a rising star in the sport, tipped to be the next ‘GOAT’ (Greatest Of All Time), the most worthy successor to Isaiah White’s legacy. While practicing late one night he is violently assaulted by a figure in a goat costume. The resulting head injury puts his prospects into question. It is doubtful that he can even play football going forward. He and his family are devastated.  

‘Salvation’ seems to come when his agent calls him with an offer that seems too good to be true. The ‘Saviours’ are seeking to sign him as their quarterback, replacing Isaiah. All he must do to earn this great opportunity is to spend a week with Isaiah at his specialised training compound, to demonstrate his potential and win Isaiah’s blessing. He accepts, and travels to the remote compound. As his car pulls up, he encounters a number of Isaiah’s demented ‘fans’ (who operate more akin to the Manson Family) decrying him in violent screams. He brushes this off and enters to meet Isaiah. He finds him engaged in an odd form of taxidermy with the skulls and skins of goats. The two embrace and share warm words of respect and welcome. The training begins.  

What follows is a rapid descent into bloody madness. 

I won’t say much more for set-up; only that the following week quickly becomes less a training camp, and more a psychedelic fever-dream of physical and psychological torture. The film is gruelling to watch in the best way. Tipping directs this masterfully, disorientating the viewer with sudden jumps from wide shots to close-ups to X-ray inflected visions of the appalling damage endured by athletes seeking to achieve their best. The cinematography of Kira Kelly keeps this relentless confusion running throughout the entire film, playing with angles and stillness and sudden swoops. 

These visuals are supplemented by some terrific performances. From the exceptionally creepy ‘fans’, led by Naomi Grossman, to Jim Jeffries reigning his comedic persona in to play Isaiah’s jaded and sardonic personal doctor (who is constantly drawing Isaiah’s blood…uh oh!), to Tim Heidecker’s unctuous agent always grasping for more. The standouts, however, are Tyriq Withers as Cam and Marlon Wayans as Isaiah. Wayans, of the ‘comedy’ dynasty, is best known for dreadful ‘funny’ (not ‘dreadfully funny’) films, including the Scary Movie franchise. Every now and then he has demonstrated his serious acting chops, shining in Requiem for a Dream, but this performance ought to cement his reputation as a genuine talent.  

He is mesmerising as Isaiah, switching in an instant from quiet melancholy, when reflecting on this past glory and the nature of sporting sacrifice, to outright unhinged menace – screaming directly in Cam’s face when trying to motivate him to go further and further. He dominates every scene he is in and is the lynchpin of the film’s mood, his performance (effortlessly walking the tightrope above measured and manic) driving the bewilderment the film seeks to force upon its audience. He is aided by Withers’ straight-man, who masterfully maintains a quiet yearning in the face of bafflement. He is muted and introverted without ever disappearing into the background, and so is instrumental in supporting Wayans as he gives the performance of his career. 

In spite of all of this brilliance, I have one small critique. The film’s theme is…messy. It is also far less subtle than it thinks it is. Its focus on the pain and suffering of sporting excellence – which is displayed in the literal brutality of injury – and the idea of selling one’s body, health, and even soul for glory, is often undermined by supernatural and theological symbolism which interrupts the dramatic thematic force. The use of the goat, both as a verbal and visual symbol, is overdone, and is rather obvious to anyone who knows even a little of biblical or esoteric literature.  

Added to this, the constant reference to sacrifice, and to behaviour resembling the cultic, continues the on-the-nose hammering; cemented at the end when an actual pentagram is emblazoned on a football field. This is a shame, as the final scene is a well-earned, wonderfully slapstick celebration of horror-movie gore and splatter, undermined by the symbolic silliness. None of this is enough to ruin the film – I still think it is superb – but I would have preferred Tipping to make a choice: subtle realism, or all-out commitment to the supernaturally sinister. In trying to have-its-cake-and-eat-it the film compromises the bake…a slight soggy bottom of a denouement. 

The film just fails to be the GOAT of this year’s horror fare. Still, a jolly entertaining cinematic experience which I highly recommend for October viewing. 

4.5 stars. 

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