Fantasy team owners are no longer outlaws in Maryland. The Maryland legislature ruled that picking lineups to win a few dollars from your buddies is not against the state’s gaming laws. That means no more using scrambled phones to make trades. Drafts won’t be conducted in the back rooms of speakeasies to hide from the feds. There’s no more calling yourself Big Lou or DG26 unless, of course, you want to.
That’s awfully big of the legislators of a state that already has a lottery, slots, horse racing, Keno and scratch-off cards — with poker tables on the ballots in November. Other than sports gambling, what’s left? Betting the over/under on the annual crab harvest?
While there are big cash prizes for national fantasy leagues, most people play against co-workers or friends. They don’t receive much more than bragging rights. There’s probably more wagered on golf courses than in baseball fantasy leagues.
It took legislators only three years to pass the bill. Talk about your slow learners. Then again, we are talking about lawmakers.
The real reason those in Annapolis approved fantasy leagues? So they’re not blocked on state house computers anymore. Seriously.
It’s bad enough Maryland’s governor talked about raising gas taxes 60 cents a gallon, but the legislature is bickering about a budget that could raise state income taxes. Instead of figuring that out, the politicians want to spend time on their fantasy teams.
Notice the legislation didn’t say anything about the winnings being tax exempt. You’re still expected to include it as income — just like $15 for daily jury duty pay.
Of course, the government won’t discover those small cash payouts unless you’re lucky enough to win a national prize. If it’s a trip to the Bahamas or a TV, why, that’s the same as cash to legislators, who want their percentage of your gaming profits, too. Funny, when lawmakers go on free trips, they’re called fact-finding missions.
Perhaps my biggest thrill in covering 20 Kentucky Derbies was picking 20-1 long shot War Emblem in 2002 and cashing a $1,300 exacta. At 650-1, I was forced to sign a tax form alerting the government and later paying income taxes like it was an extra paycheck. (Try writing three stories on deadline with more than $5,000 in your pocket.)
This fall, if you’re smart enough to predict Washington Redskins running back Roy Helu is sitting on a 1,500-yard season and Dallas receiver Dez Bryant will catch 100 balls, then your grand prize earnings partly will go to federal and state coffers.
But at least you’re not an outlaw anymore.
Examiner columnist Rick Snider has covered local sports since 1978. Read more on Twitter @Snide_Remarks or email [email protected].
