Meet Dr. No

Man spins soccer ball on hand
Professor of economics Victor Matheson's scholarship intersects his love of economics and sports.

Economics Professor Victor Matheson, Ph.D., sets you straight on winning the lottery, the real cost of major sporting events and if there’s such a thing as a safe bet.

Victor Matheson can’t help you win the lottery, but he can improve your odds.

Matheson is looking at framed lottery tickets on his office wall. You might assume they’re his winning tickets. They’re not. Some aren’t even from this century.

He is a collector of old lottery tickets, among other things. An economics professor who this year celebrates his 20th anniversary teaching at Holy Cross, Matheson studies public finance and the economics of sports and, by default, gambling, sports betting and lotteries. He’ll tell you there’s no such thing as a safe bet. But a fair bet? That’s possible.

Step 1
Nix the magical thinking around lucky numbers.

“Lucky numbers are unlucky in the lottery,” Matheson says. “And the reason lucky numbers are unlucky is in lots of lotteries, at least, the jackpot is shared among winners. And in some lotteries, like Lotto Texas, even the lower-tier prizes are shared among winners, and people tend to have the same lucky numbers.”

Step 2
Stop playing your anniversary date, your spouse’s birthday, your kids’ and grandkids’ birthdays or the date you passed the bar. Stop playing dates entirely. Too many people choose numbers under 31, again, making it more likely you’ll be splitting your winnings.

Step 3
Avoid multiples of 7 and 8. “Numbers 12 and under and 31 and under are disproportionately chosen. Multiples of 7 and, it turns out, multiples of 8, are also disproportionately chosen,” he notes. “And that’s because 7 is a lucky number in Western culture, obviously, and 8 is a lucky number in Asian culture.”

Questions (and answers) such as these are common fare for Matheson, who has become the media’s go-to expert for contextualizing the financial ramifications of gambling, professional sports — and Taylor Swift’s true economic impact. Oftentimes, he’s the bearer of bad news, a contemporary Cassandra, speaking truths people really don’t want to hear — as in: No, you’re not going to win Powerball. No, a mega-stadium is not likely to  be an economic boon for your city. No, the tourism boom accompanying a visit from Pope Francis probably isn’t going to offset the costs of hosting him.

Colleagues call Matheson a needle in the side of municipalities and developers who make bad bets on the economic impact of stadiums and major events. And Matheson is OK with that. The way he sees it, he’s doing taxpayers a service: “Let’s just say that I’m fairly happy that I have long-term job security as a critic of spending massive amounts of taxpayer money.”

Here’s a partial list of Matheson’s areas of expertise:

•    Economics of sports
•    Economics of gambling
•    Forensic economics
•    Statistics
•    Business and government
•    Industrial organization and antitrust
•    Macroeconomics and macroeconomic policy
•    Public finance
•    Energy economics
•    Economics of the environment
•    Economic development
•    Urban economics
•    Cost-benefit analysis

Matheson has won multiple awards for his teaching and research, co-authored four books and written more than 100 papers. He is sought out big time by almost every national news outlet you can name — and a whole bunch of others you can’t. The last 15 pages of Matheson’s research profile track his media appearances since 1999. The list is single-spaced and incomplete. “It reflects only the appearances that show up on Google News,” he notes.

Also listed is a reference to the amicus brief he co-authored for the U.S. Supreme Court in its Alston v. NCAA case in 2019. That was the 9-0 decision against the NCAA in favor of athletes being fully compensated, at least for their academic expenses.

“Nine-O in today’s Supreme Court,” Matheson says. “How many 9-O’s do you get? Right? While that case didn’t deal directly with the professionalization of athletes or NIL, within a week of that loss, the NCAA saw the writing on the wall and dropped all these prohibitions against Name, Image and Likeness. Within a week.”

Journalist Jürgen Kalwa is a U.S.-based correspondent covering professional sports for several German media outlets, including Deutschlandfunk, German Public Radio, which boasts more than 1 million listeners daily. He first interviewed Matheson in 2012.

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Split screen of a news desk interviewing man remotely
Matheson in conversation with CBS News in 2023 about lottery jackpots.

“My stories cover not only major team sports and their leagues, but also major individual sports — plus anything regarding the business of sports, corruption, betting, doping, health, political aspects, etc.,” Kalwa says. “At some point, I began to rely on experts, many of them professors in different fields: law, medical research, public health, economics — and not affiliated with the sports ventures that I cover. Victor has been my favorite expert on the economics of sports because I can always tap into his vast knowledge of everything regarding the financial and economic backbone of sports. He is up-to-date and provides depth and analysis, which is crucial because leagues, managers, agents and athletes paint a rosy picture of whatever they represent or promote.

“Without access to critical thinkers and independent minds,” he continues, “you will never be able to explain the machinations of what has become the biggest category of the entertainment industry.”

It’s no wonder that for the past five years, the economics of sports gambling has had the lion’s share of Matheson’s attention.

Well, that and soccer.

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Man in soccer jersey stands in closet
Matheson has lost track of exactly how many soccer jerseys he owns, but knows it's more than 42.

Matheson is a referee for the NCAA and U.S. Soccer. A former Major League Soccer referee, he has officiated college games for the Big Ten, Big East, ACC and Ivy League athletic conferences, among others, since 1988. Since the pandemic, Matheson has worn a professional soccer jersey to work every day. He wore a full uniform — or kit, in soccer parlance — to Provost Elliot Visconti’s 2024 fall address to the faculty. Like many students, Matheson stands by the idea that shorts are a four-season proposition.

He’s lost track of how many jerseys he  has — but it’s more than 42, he knows that much.

“I used to be a shirt-and-tie guy, but it seemed a little silly during Covid to be doing that,” Matheson says. “So I started wearing a jersey every day. And just as something to alleviate the pain of having no human interaction, I did this challenge with my students: I said, ‘I think I’m going to try and wear a different jersey every day and let’s keep track and see if I can do it.’

“On the last day of class, I had to dig deep,” he continues and grins. “The very last jersey I had left was an intramural jersey from my days playing as a faculty member at Williams College. Now I’ve expanded my collection. I can easily go an entire semester with a new jersey every day. I’m never going back.”

On an unseasonably warm, sunny morning in November, Matheson’s dressed in the maroon jersey of the Qatar National Team, yelling greetings to students over Taylor Swift’s “Shake it Off.” The course is Economics 329, Economics of Sports. The day’s topic is mega-events, which accounts for how the topic of Swift came to be in a sports economics class. The textbook for this course is “The Economics of Sports, Seventh Edition,” by Michael Leeds, Peter Von Allmen and Victor Matheson.

In Matheson’s course, students study econometrics, which is, at its core, mathematical methods to describe and analyze complex economic systems.

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Man teaches at front of classroom
A look at pre-COVID Matheson in the classroom, where he sported a more traditional wardrobe: “I used to be a shirt-and-tie guy."

They work with big data sets and consult on products. Complex topics delivered through a mutual love of sports just make good sense, Matheson says.

“Economics in general is looking at the way humans interact and the way they make decisions — but in a quantitative manner,” he says. “One of the great things about sports is you can make it analytical and develop all sorts of important tools using sports as your base, while also explaining it to anyone pretty simply.”

Gambling economics

This spring, Matheson will teach a class on the economics of gambling. A course like this is perfect for a college setting as young, highly educated men are sports betting companies’ top market, while also being among the most vulnerable populations in terms of developing gambling problems, Matheson says.

“Holy Cross is one of the few places in the country that teaches a course in gambling economics,” Matheson notes. “Think about how much interest there is — both from a policy level and a student level. Students are inundated by DraftKings and FanDuel. We’ve got lotteries in 45 states. We have casinos in a similar number of states.”

Callan Whamond ’19 graduated summa cum laude with a bachelor’s degree in mathematics and economics. She is working on her Ph.D. at the University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign. An avid baseball fan, she took Matheson’s sports economics course in her second year at Holy Cross. The following semester she took macroeconomics with Matheson.

“Professor Matheson brings such energy to his classes, which keeps the lectures engaging,” Whamond says. “In academia, there can be pressure to take yourself very seriously, so I admire how Professor Matheson creates an environment that balances hard work and fun.”

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Four people sit on mountaintop
Mountain climbing in New Hampshire with Holy Cross faculty colleagues Miles Cahill, Karen Teitel and John Carter.

Matheson is literally the guy who wrote the book on sports economics, notes colleague and friend Robert Baumann, professor of economics. He and Matheson have been working together at Holy Cross for two decades and have written many scholarly articles together.

“Some call economics ‘the dismal science’ because you present us with something seemingly positive and we’re always throwing cold water on it,” Baumann says. “He wears that as a badge of honor.”

But it doesn’t make Matheson pretentious or dour, Baumann continues. He’s the guy you want to have a beer with, the one who livens up the lunch conversation.

“I think when you encounter Victor you immediately sense his upbeat personality. He’s a fun guy to be around and he’s also a serious academic. And he has this ability to spot research questions that are interesting to people across the board,” Baumann says. “He works hard. He puts a ton of sweat equity into it; that’s the only way you get a research profile like that.”

When preparation meets opportunity. Kinda.

Matheson grew up in an upper-middle-class home in Boulder, Colorado, the only son of a research scientist and an art teacher. He was an outdoorsy kid, drawn to horseback riding and mountain climbing, who loved sports and will proudly tell you that to this day his 84-year-old mother, the aforementioned art teacher, still rides horses. Matheson is a self-described classic high school nerd, though not pocket-protector nerdy — being a varsity athlete (you guessed it, soccer) spared the straight-A student that particular indignity.

He also knew from a very young age how to make a buck. Matheson wholly funded his college education before he’d finished high school.

“My grandfather gave the cousins a little bit of stock in Dow Chemical one Christmas and following its value over time got me interested in finance,” he says. “I had a bunch of stock by the time I was in high school. I had a broker. I’d be, like, ‘I’d like to sell 50 shares of this and buy 50 shares of that.’ And then the broker would call my parents and they were, like, ‘Whatever. He seems to know more about the stock market than we do. Go ahead and do what he says.’”

In his senior year, Matheson sold the entirety of his portfolio, just weeks before the massive 1987 Black Monday stock market crash, and fully funded his undergraduate education at St. Olaf College in Northfield, Minnesota.

“The first thing I did there was take an economics course,” Matheson says. “I like that economics was hard, quantitative science, but I also kind of wanted to teach.”

One of Victor’s many skills is his ability to communicate with anybody. He’s found a way to distill a complicated discipline to a mass audience. He’s darned good at it.

Robert Baumann, professor of economics

He graduated magna cum laude in math, economics and statistics in 1991. Then, it was on to the University of Minnesota, Minneapolis, where he earned an M.A. and, then, a Ph.D. in economics.

The economist in Matheson resists a fairy-tale glossing of his early success story.

“What’s ironic is that once I took economics, I learned that almost everything I did with my portfolio was luck rather than skill,” he says and grins. “Nowadays, every economist is the most boring investor. I haven’t bought an individual stock since high school. We’re all just index fund people now.”

“If you build it, they will come.” — “Field of Dreams”
“Not likely.” — Victor Matheson

In academic circles, Robert Baade is credited with legitimizing sports economics as a field of study. Baade is Matheson’s mentor and collaborator. They have co-authored scholarly articles on the economic impact of political conventions, college sports and mega-events, such as the Super Bowl and the Olympics. Baade shares Matheson’s love of sport; he coached the men’s basketball team at Lake Forest College.

“Victor was so committed to sport and all things related; we shared that,” Baade says. “Victor and I shared some things in official and unofficial capacities that made us a good match as it related to our research. We were good teammates.”

Baade says he knew from the get-go that Matheson was suited to a life of scholarship and teaching.

“Students need to see that professors are not just about taking yellowed old notes from previous classes and presenting them,” Baade says. “Students love to know that their professors are active and developing material through direct, firsthand research.

“And Victor’s unique personality, his enthusiasm in the classroom, it’s apparent that he loves life and is a fun guy to be around — and extremely bright and inquisitive,” Baade continues. “If Victor has a fault, it’s that he takes on too much. Sometimes I would have to slow him down rather than speed him up — that’s a good thing, not a bad thing.”

Baade sums up his work with Matheson as variations on a theme: “Our argument has always been that, economically speaking, most of the subsidies and public monies that we provide for sport don’t accomplish what it is that advocates for that kind of funding base their arguments on. We know that when you consider the economics of most sports projects, they’re not viable economically.”

“I usually take the stairs”

Matheson closes his lecture on mega-events by invoking the Matheson Rule: Move the decimal one point to the left to know the true benefits of staging something like the Olympics, he tells his students.

Afterward, he heads up to his office on the fifth floor of Stein Hall. “I usually take the stairs,” he says as he boards the elevator to the Department of Economics and Accounting. This tracks. Matheson has climbed all the 14,000-foot peaks in Colorado. Called “fourteeners” by the hiking and mountaineering communities, a 14,000-foot elevation poses significant and unique environmental challenges.

The day’s become unexpectedly busy. After back-to-back classes, Matheson consented to an impromptu interview. He’s barely settled in his office when a colleague asks him about lunch and a favor. Students linger outside his office, awaiting a moment to talk about papers and projects. Busy is ordinary in Matheson’s world.

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Man reads book next to dog
Among Matheson's books are "The Economics of the Super Bowl" (pictured), "The Economics of Sports," and others.

“He has a very casual way of presenting himself with the shorts and the jerseys, but underneath all of that is a guy who works really hard and is productive. I mean, wildly productive,” Baumann says.

And generous.

“Victor has a lot of concern about his colleagues’ careers, the tenure-track people and the non-tenured people,” Baumann says. “Victor cares about developing them. I can think of times when he’s come up with projects and considered who’d be good for them and then he’ll involve this tenure-track person who needs a bit of help with research. Maybe that’s how he came to knock on my door all those years ago because he got off to a much faster start, research-wise, than I did.”

Matheson’s former student Whamond can relate. In her junior year at Holy Cross, she wanted to study abroad but worried that her decision would preempt working on an independent research project: “When I spoke with Professor Matheson about my predicament, he unequivocally recommended that I do a semester at the University of Melbourne in Australia. Professor Matheson allowed me to work with him upon my return through a shortened version of the Economics Summer Research Program. The research project I worked on with him that summer evolved into a published book chapter, something I could highlight in my Ph.D. applications.”

It’s not easy being a fan and a critic

Matheson loves bringing economics to the masses. “One of Victor’s many skills is his ability to communicate with anybody. He’s found a way to distill a complicated discipline to a mass audience,” Baumann says. “He’s darned good at it.”

Does Matheson worry that his good humor when delivering bad news might be mistaken for arrogance or schadenfreude? Nope. He’s got a honey badger’s attitude and comfort with conflict essential for a Division I referee and expert witness. What’s right is right.

Matheson cites consulting work he did in Washington, D.C., to make his point. “The owner of the Washington Wizards and Capitals wanted to move the teams out of the district and wanted taxpayers in the Virginia suburbs to pay $1.35 billion for the privilege of building him
a new arena.

“It looks like it’s not going to happen because of pushback by economists like myself,” he continues. “Instead, they’re going to take a bunch of public money and refurbish the existing arena.”

The Wizards and Capitals stadium, Capital One Arena, sits in downtown D.C., just blocks from the Capitol.

“I’m also not in favor of handing over $515 million of taxpayers’ money to billionaire owners and millionaire players for fancier seats in the current arena,” Matheson says. “On the other hand, handing over $515 million of taxpayer money is a whole lot better than handing over $1.35 billion. And maybe without the pushback from economists, that would’ve happened.”

“We’ve had success. It’s modest and slow,” Baade says. “I think the heartening thing for me is that some people have gotten the message and some cities, some communities, have said no to something they really can’t afford. I would say our success has been modest, but not inconsequential.”

“It’s a little bit hard being a sports fan and a sports critic simultaneously,” Matheson says.

You get the sense he’ll manage.