What happens when the entire world gets gamblified?
Well, for one thing, you get ESPN award-winning journalist Katie Barnes writing sentences like this: “According to Google Trends, there has been a 3,700% increase in U.S. search interest on ‘green dildo’ since July 29.”
Yes, we’ve reached the portion of the program where I have to stick my nose in this WNBA/sex toy story. Why? Because after Barnes’ story dropped late Thursday night, it became a gambling tale in every way.
In short, green personal massagers have been flying onto WNBA courts over the last week and change. Let’s recap.
July 29: Someone launches a plastic pal onto the court during a game between the Atlanta Dream and the Golden State Valkyries. The internet does what the internet does.
July 30-Aug. 2: Social media collectively loses its mind. People start planning their own stunts because apparently this is where we are as a species. Indiana Fever star Sophie Cunningham takes to X with a plea: “Stop throwing dildos on the court. You’re going to hurt one of us.”
Aug. 1: The Chicago Sky and the Valkyries get the love wand treatment, one of two incidents this night. Meet Delbert Carver, 23, who allegedly threw them at not one but two games. Gets arrested.
Aug. 5: Fever versus Los Angeles Sparks. Another love log finds its way courtside. Someone tries the same stunt at a New York Liberty game, but their aim is apparently as bad as their judgment. It lands at the feet of a young fan.
Aug. 6: The day after another incident at Phoenix Mercury versus Connecticut Sun, Kaden Lopez, 18, is identified as a culprit. He apparently thought hitting a man and his 9-year-old niece with a flying sex toy constituted a “silly prank.” Spoiler: The authorities disagree and arrest him.
The aftermath: Well, that’s where this gets interesting …
According to Barnes’ reporting, the entire thing was orchestrated by a crypto group trying to pump their “Green Dildo Coin.” And it worked, with the coin up over 300% at last report since the shenanigans started.
Bet on it?
The alleged mastermind behind this scheme is a guy calling himself “Lt. Daldo Raine” (after the Brad Pitt character in Inglourious Basterds), who told ESPN his merry band of more than 1,000 Telegram users he “wanted to really make memes funny again.”
Ha.
Here’s the part where things really get interesting, where maybe we should take a giant step back: You could bet on this.
Granted, you couldn’t bet “legally” on flying bedroom assistants here in the States, but come on: Of course, you could.
Offshore book BetOnline offered markets on when and what color the next tossed sex toy would be, and — shocker — the crypto bros took full advantage of it.
“There were several people who greased the bets quite heavily just because we knew what was going on,” Lt. Daldo bragged to ESPN.
Markets were also being offered on the soon-to-be-legal-again-in-America Polymarket, which, as I type, is allowing users to buy options on when the next green dildo will be tossed. (Sunday, Aug. 10, is the heavy favorite.)
So let’s recap where we’re at: A coordinated market manipulation scheme disguised as juvenile pranks, with innocent bystanders getting pelted by flying pocket rockets while crypto bros cash in on both their meme coin and insider sports betting.
Now let’s see where we’re headed.
Gotta hand it to them
First off, I am hesitant to say this: While I’m horrified at this story, I’m also pretty impressed. This is some pretty tremendous advantage play. I mean, creating a meme coin called Green Dildo and then throwing said object on the court during WNBA games and profiting on not only the coin but also on betting whether more of them will rain down? That makes hole carding seem like an abacus compared to AI.
This is next-generation stuff.
And to be perfectly clear, I would not consider myself above the fray. While I am not a Telegram user and have never dipped my toes in meme coins, if someone came up to me and said, “If you want to make 300 percent on your money plus some side scratch in the betting markets, all you have to do is root for someone to toss a tickle tool onto a basketball court,” my response would be: Not above it.
But I don’t like it, and I don’t like where it’s headed.
While we collectively — and rightfully — clutch our pearls over the Jontay Porters of the world, we’re entering (well, we’re in) an era where everything is bettable. As a result, a lot of it is beatable. By cheating.
I mean, there’s probably little chance someone can game the system when it comes “who will win the 2028 presidential election,” but how about the “length of MrBeast’s next video,” which is available on Polymarket now. At last glance, there was about $15,000 traded on it, but seriously: How many people know the answer? Got to be in the dozens, right? And if you’re making $45,000 a year on the periphery of MrBeast and you know, for a fact, the next video is going to be 21 minutes, what’s stopping you from buying a contract on that for 19 cents?
The answer? Nothing, outside of maybe a dash of conscience or fear of getting caught and losing your job over what amounts to insider trading.
This highlights the fundamental vulnerability in prediction markets: The closer you get to niche, specific outcomes that only a handful of insiders know, the more susceptible these markets become to manipulation. While presidential elections involve millions of variables and stakeholders making them nearly impossible to game, something as specific as a video length known by a handful of people in MrBeast’s production team creates obvious opportunities for anyone with advance knowledge.
The risk-reward calculation becomes pretty straightforward for someone in that position: potentially significant financial gain versus the relatively low probability of facing serious consequences for betting on YouTube metadata.
The green sex toy saga may seem like juvenile internet chaos, but it’s actually a preview of what’s to come. Regulators are going to have to grapple with a world where market manipulation can be organized in Telegram chats and executed with vulcanized rubber.
The question isn’t whether this stuff will be regulated — it’s whether regulators can move fast enough to keep up with the next wave of creative chaos.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go post a market on “whether editors allow will ‘dildo’ in our headline.” I’m telling you right now: Put everything on “no.”
