Two years ago, when I was a Fourth Former, I walked into history class. It was normal, a little boring, and highly predictable. You know the drill.
I sat down in my usual spot and enjoyed the comforts of normalcy: sitting next to my usual partner, the same view of the board, the same view of the clock, yada, yada, yada….
The teacher began class with a worksheet, the kind that allows students to complete it at their own pace. It felt like one of those classes to fool around in. The teacher was off-task at his desk, so it only made sense that I did what I wanted to.
At this time in Haverford School history, there were no phone caddies or Yondr pouches, so phones were abundant, sitting in the crevice that divides the screen from the keyboard on one’s computer. My mind wandered. It wandered to a place it often did: online sports gambling.
With 38 states allowing online sports betting and more coming, gambling on your favorites has never been easier.
Why gambling? Maybe I’m being targeted. Cursory research shows that gambling companies, especially FanDuel and DraftKings, market their services toward children. The online sports betting market in the U.S. is roughly $11 billion, and it would not surprise me if 20-30% of that market is underage gamblers.
As I sat in class that day, deciding how to concentrate on the task at hand, I immediately failed. I looked to my right. My partner’s eyes were fixated on FanDuel’s online casino. The fictional roulette table lit up like a New Year’s Eve ball drop. Each light felt like another reason to get bettors to place another dollar. It felt like an adrenaline rush waiting to happen. My internalized voices said to follow the crowd and gamble, yet I came to school most worried about a Spanish test that morning. While my partner was making money to my right, I began to question whether this Spanish test was my best use of time.
Wait, I have to concentrate. Well, maybe not just yet. I’m not a roulette guy, but, oh, how I love sports.
Like many American kids, I am infatuated with sports. Everybody has a favorite sport, team, or player. With 38 states allowing online sports betting and more coming, gambling on your favorites has never been easier.
Furthermore, gambling operations such as Fliff or Thrillzz, which are easily accessible on academic campuses nationwide, speak volumes about the regulatory gaps in our country’s legal system. These companies advertise to boys starting around the ages of 10-12.
As I sat in class that day, as bored as my teacher seemed, I focused on my betting opportunities. Way more fun than a history quiz, right?
Why was I born into the generation that has had online gambling become extremely accessible to them? Why was I attending a school where several people gamble?
And all of a sudden, my partner was intensely focused on his phone, placing sophisticated bets on European soccer. Wait, what? No. He wasn’t. He was just betting on online roulette. Total chance. Stupid, I thought. But then the thrill came to life right there in the Philadelphia suburbs just after 9 a.m. on a Thursday.
The worst I had seen of the gambling epidemic in the U.S. was a FanDuel or DraftKings commercial on TV during the NFL slate on a Sunday afternoon that fall. My mindset toward online gambling had always been pessimistic. Why was I, as a kid, being marketed through every marketing channel possible? Why was I born into the generation that has had online gambling become extremely accessible to them? Why was I attending a school where several people gamble?
Maybe it’s not that complicated.
Gen Z has fully embraced gambling on all sorts of social media platforms. Memes circulate Instagram feeds, X timelines, and TikTok For You Pages. Content creators such as BookItWithTrent and CallingOurShot boast about their winnings online while joking around with their immature audiences, pitching pick after pick in hopes of leading children to sign up for gambling sites using their referral codes.
And, sadly, it works. These creators have inked multi-year, seven-figure contracts with these companies to promote their apps. This is what makes the apps even worse: they hand out large contracts to content creators with young audiences, incentivizing predatory gambling promotion tactics.
The gambling culture amongst young people in the U.S. infiltrates people’s minds and convinces them to continue to feed their addiction, constantly chasing the thrill they first experienced when they began placing wagers.
Each spin excites me,” he told me. I was captivated yet cautious.
At 9:35 a.m. that day, my social conscience kicked in. I wasn’t going to tell my partner not to do that. That wasn’t me. I’m not a confrontational person, I thought as the white ball spun around the wheel, eventually landing on Red 25. My partner banged the desk. “I mean, I have to bet again to make it back, right?” he asked rhetorically. He knew the $5 wager he placed would not deter him from depositing and betting more money.
I’ve personally experienced gambling through the app Fliff, which CEO and Germantown Academy grad Mike Ricci claims to be an “introductory tool” to gambling. The app is gamified, colorful, and user-friendly. Fliff’s business model grants children the ability to gamble on sports and casino games without parental supervision. The striking blue and green app is a common sight at Haverford that’s often followed with “Look at this parlay that hit last night” or “Give me some locks for tonight.” Apps like Ricci’s also allow creators to promote gambling jargon such as locks, tuck-me-ins, and fades, which echo in school hallways nationwide.
The next 30 minutes of class were spent watching a white ball spin around a wheel, hoping my partner would find his next high.
“Each spin excites me,” he told me. I was captivated yet cautious. I had previously seen how gambling can affect the human mind when I lost a figurative $100,000 in the Grand Theft Auto casino. That threw off my mood because I couldn’t participate in certain events in the game anymore with my friends. And that was only a video game.
My class partner said he tricked his father into giving him his Social Security Number, effectively enabling him to set up an account on his own so he could wager money
But watching real, hard-earned money being wagered right in front of me was wild. My family didn’t gamble at all, so I was shocked.
According to the National Council on Problem Gambling, 60-80% of high school students reported gambling money in the past year, even though the legal age ranges from 18-21. Adolescent exposure to sports betting has run rampant in the past couple of years. Introductory tools such as video games or gamified gambling apps like Fliff or Thrillzz contribute to the 2-7% of youths with a gambling disorder, Yale Medicine says.
Furthermore, FanDuel’s online casino was insanely accessible. My class partner said he tricked his father into giving him his Social Security Number, effectively enabling him to set up an account on his own so he could wager money. My vehement feelings toward gambling were quickly shifting. I could make money doing nothing? You mean I could sit in class and collect a profit equal to an hourly wage? This was crazy, but I had a feeling it was too good to be true.
Was it?
