From the Publisher
"If you think the way I do, then you must be asking yourself if this truly is the most ridiculous cover for a book you've ever seen. Just wait...when you open the book, it actually makes the cover look normal. It's not dark yet, but it's getting there. Cousin Sal is a very smart and brilliant man with as humble a heart as I've been around. He wants to make others happy and sometimes he does with his checkbook. But I am truly lucky to call him a friend. For life. You will love this book."—Tony Romo
"For the last two decades, Cousin Sal has been the Gambling Butch Cassidy to my Gambling Sundance Kid — and that's a crucial analogy, because they both died at the end of the movie."—Bill Simmons
"I swear to God you little shit, if you wrote anything stupid about me I’ll kill you."—Aunt Chippy
"Sal's a good father and husband, and I have never seen him take a drink. But he makes up for it by being the most degenerate gambler I have ever seen."—Johnny Knoxville
“Sal has embarrassed me on live television, in front of Jon Hamm, in restaurants, on the golf course, etc. The fact that I am still here recommending this book is a testament to how great a friend he is when he's not making my life miserable. I've never met a man that's as mad about sports as he is and I think he's endured enough pain, the least we can do is read about it. Also, Jon, if you're reading this: I'm not crazy!”—Rachel Bonnetta
"Rachel. I don’t think you’re crazy. Sal, I think you’re a real Pal. Also, you owe me $400. I will not accept books as payment."
—Jon Hamm
"A rollicking...account of the foibles of a man who’ll bet on anything."—Kirkus
Kirkus Reviews
★ 2020-10-27
A rollicking, often silly account of the foibles of a man who’ll bet on anything.
Cousin of Jimmy Kimmel, who provides the foreword, and a writer and sketch actor on the show, Iacono betrays his own title over the course of his conversational, goofy narrative. As it turns out, you can lose them all, or at least most of them: “baseball, basketball, hockey, wrestling (pro and amateur), hot dog–eating contests, horse races, dog races, bird races, presidential elections, all levels of football—including my 8-year-old son’s flag league and, of course, the Puppy Bowl.” The author has bet on them all as well as a particularly unfortunate event in which he hid a pile of linguine in his shoes in order to win an all-you-can-eat dinner: “I sacrificed a $75 pair of Nike high-tops for a $36.95 meal.” The economy of gambling dictates that such betting is to be avoided, at least over the long haul. It’s to Iacono’s good fortune that the bookies he lost to seem to have been forgiving types: One put him to work refereeing youth basketball games at a rate of pay so low that “I would be done paying off my debt when the children reached thirty-seventh grade.” Does he regret it? Not a bit, except perhaps for those moments when his body rebelled against the paces he was putting it through; the last image in the book involves the application of oysters in a way that may have the reader steering clear of shellfish for a while. On the whole, though, Iacono is funny, rueful, and frequently instructive, as when he teaches the technique (and ultimate folly) of hedging a bet: “Remember this rule of thumb: the more bets you place, the better off for the house.”
If you’re thinking of taking up gambling, Iacono will turn you to needlepoint or square dancing inside a few chapters.
