Copyright The New York Times
Growing up in the Midwest, Zach Everett saw gambling as little more than a fun diversion. He’d play poker with friends and go to the racetrack with his father. It wasn’t until 2019, just after he moved to Denver, that the problems started. That year, Colorado voted to legalize sports betting. The salary from his job wasn’t enough to cover the rent. Maybe, he thought, he could make up the difference by betting on sports online. He started with sports and teams he knew well — particularly his favorite basketball team, the Minnesota Timberwolves — but by 2021 he was betting on anything he could, once winning $55,000 on a golf tournament, then losing it all over the next two days. “I didn’t even know that was possible,” he said. Instead of stopping, he made more bets he couldn’t cover and took out loans from friends and family who unwittingly supported his habit. It didn’t take long for Mr. Everett to realize he had a problem. But when he visited support groups, he typically didn’t see anyone like him. Often, the gamblers were much older and talked of playing blackjack and poker in Las Vegas. How could he explain the temptation of having a sportsbook on his phone, right in his back pocket? “Those people are casino gamblers that are 10 years clean,” Mr. Everett, 31, said. “They don’t even know what a DraftKings account is.” Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times. Thank you for your patience while we verify access. Already a subscriber? Log in. Want all of The Times? Subscribe.
