God's Pattern in Life's Pieces

As a young boy, I distinctly remember how suspiciously my father viewed our freshly acquired television. It was an untested and not entirely trustworthy guest in our home.

It “lived” in our basement.

As his tolerance began to increase, rules of engagement began to emerge. One was particularly memorable. When an advertisement for cigarettes aired, my father required us to rush to the set (we were the “incarnated remote control”), turn down the volume, and stand in front of the screen… effectively blocking any image that might inspire us to light up!

This practice persisted until 1971, when the federal government became his source of restraint.

Last night, as I watched Game Two of the postseason baseball matchup between the Guardians and the Rays, I felt my father’s advertising ire rise to the surface. This wasn’t because of an invitation to smoke, but because of a provocative and offensive ad from Novig, a sports gambling platform.

Actress Sydney Sweeney was the conduit for the messaging. (and an equity partner in Novig).

Frankly, it felt like the 2026 version of the conversation between a serpent and Eve in the Garden.

Appalling simply isn’t strong enough.

While mothers and fathers should be explaining to their children why they keep referring to Cleveland as “the Indians,” or what happens when a runner tags up, those same parents are instead grabbing for the remote or doing their best to distract their children. Or worse, simply allowing the invasion to persist without comment.

The mainstreaming of gambling, amplified through sexually provocative imagery, is a direct assault on what we value. It’s an attack on hearts and minds, especially the impressionable hearts and minds of young men.

Advertising doesn’t simply reflect culture. It shapes culture. And what we tolerate today has an uncanny way of becoming what we accept tomorrow.

There was a time when cigarette advertising was simply part of the cultural landscape. Beautiful people. Memorable jingles. Celebrity endorsements. And an addictive product wrapped in the promise of a better life.

Sound familiar?

Gambling addiction is real. And its damage to individuals and families can be every bit as devastating as the damage cigarettes inflict on the lungs.

And to make matters worse, celebrity endorsements provide a wildly unwelcome amplification, overlooking the fact that gambling can become a reverse Robin Hood. Taking from those who have little to line the pockets of those who have plenty.

It’s wealth redistribution without a moral compass.

I wonder what happens when a generation of young men grows up believing that every sporting event is an opportunity to make money, and every loss is an invitation to try again.

Enough.

I simply can’t sit on the couch anymore and watch. It’s wrong, and it shouldn’t be passively tolerated.

I don’t know what that means for you, but for me, it might mean phone calls or emails. Perhaps it’s time to let the networks know that our families are watching. To remind advertisers that there are limits to what we’re willing to welcome into our living rooms.

It clearly includes honest dialogue with phone-carrying young people about the dangers hiding behind the promise of easy money.

It might also include notes on celebrity fan sites, reminding those who endorse these platforms that they may be peddling potential destruction.

1971 reminds me that public concern can eventually produce meaningful policy changes.

My father didn’t have a remote control. He had his children.

I have a remote control. I have a phone. I have a voice.

And I intend to use them.

Perhaps 1971 has something to teach us about 2026.

I’d like to get back to explaining the infield fly rule and what it means to hit for the cycle.

Care to join me?

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