In case you haven’t heard of this story, here’s a little background: An 11-year-old kid from Minnesota made a miracle shot during a charity-game promotion last week, sending the puck 89 feet through a goal that barely was bigger than the puck itself.
The problem is, he did it under an assumed identity, sort of, and the question of whether he should receive the $50,000 prize money now lies in the hands of the insurance company that was hired for the event.
Media reports that surfaced yesterday painted a picture of a family eagerly waiting by the phone for the company’s decision in the hopes that this story, which started with the kid making the shot and getting high-fives from a bunch of NHL stars in attendance, will conclude with the ultimate happy ending.
A fistful of cash.
Unfortunately for the Smith clan of Owatonna, Minn., here is the most likely outcome: The suits at Odds On Promotions will let the national interest in this story subside a little before they say no.
And they will say no. Based on the history of payouts in such events, and the mode of operation for insurance companies in general, the odds are Nate Smith stands a better chance of making that shot 10 times in a row than he does of seeing a dime from Odds On Promotions.
Here’s what happened: The Smith family purchased three raffle tickets for the promotion and wrote the name Nick Smith, Nate’s identical twin brother, on each of them. Nate just had a cast removed, and his folks figured he wasn’t up for the task.
That is, until Nick Smith got bored with the Shattuck vs. The World charity game and bailed outside with some friends. He was nowhere to be found when his name got called to take the shot, so Nate Smith did what any honorable sibling might: He covered for his brother.
The fact that there was a cash incentive at stake couldn’t have hurt the cause. Nate Smith trotted out on to the ice, drilled the shot, and was engulfed in applause from the fans and showered with attention from some of his NHL idols.
Seeing as the kids are identical twins, the game’s organizers were unaware that the wrong boy took the shot. However, later that night, the Smith kids “felt bad about the deception,” their father, Pat Smith, told the media. So father and sons decided the right thing to do was come clean about the identity switcheroo.
Predictably, Odds On Promotions wasted no time in disqualifying them from the prize.
“Legally, it has to be the person whose name is on the ticket,” Odds On general manager April Clark told the media on Monday. “We really are very careful about explaining that it has to be the person.”
Of course they are, because that’s what insurance companies do. Those that underwrite sportive-event promotions are no different than the ones that insure your Acura; they say no from the start, and look for a claim of plausible deniability with which to back it while you protest.
In these sports promotions, the winner gets denied all the time. If you ever wondered, upon watching a seemingly fortunate soul hit a half-court shot to win a Toyota Camry, “If replays showed he had a toe on the line, would they still give him the car?,” the answer is a big negative.
These type of promotions come with a long and storied history of bizarre outcomes and payment disputes. If you’re interested in hearing some of the fascinating tales, check out gaming author Michael Konik’s excellent book, “The Man With the $100,000 Breasts.”
The title refers to the story of a man who won a prop bet with his buddy by getting breast implants. Konik also tells the tale of a middle-aged war veteran who defied bazillion-to-one odds by being “selected” the winner of a halftime promotion in two consecutive events sponsored by different big-name retailers.
The story deftly explains how the man’s affable nature, and the fact that he helps the homeless in is spare time, couldn’t have hurt his chances in the second drawing. Konik basically proves the thing was rigged, along with explaining how company sponsors, such as the Big Soda Maker that regularly back such events, are rooting wildly for the contestant to win.
Which makes sense; they get a ton of free publicity, while someone else is on the hook for writing the check, provided it ever comes.
So if you ever find your name called at halftime for a fan-interaction promotion, good luck with hitting the shot. You’ll need even more good fortune to get the cash.