Ioriatti’s return to Las Vegas for Super Bowl excursion one year after brother’s death

LAS VEGAS — In the South Point ballroom, Mike Ioriatti began tabulating his bottom line on Super Bowl Sunday as Kansas City quarterback Patrick Mahomes threw a seven-yard touchdown pass to DeAndre Hopkins.

“Yes! Plus 500!” Ioriatti barked. “Yes, sir! I will take that! That’s a big boy!”

At +500, his five-dollar wager on Hopkins netted him $25.

Super Bowl LIX wound down, but Mike wasn’t done accumulating dividends. A minute later, Mahomes connected with Xavier Worthy on a 50-yard TD strike.

Glancing over his right shoulder at the huge screen closest to our table, Mike caught the play in real time.

“Got him, too!” Mike howled with wide eyes. “His name starts with an X! Got him at plus 160!”

Having played 25 propositions, at five bucks each, the 43-year-old Ioriatti (pronounced yore-eee-AHH-tee) figured the Worthy strike secured an overall profitable day for him.

Icing on the cake, because Mike and his three uncles — Phil, Jim and Paul — are a travelling circus, all smiles and laughter.

At Phil’s Henderson condo the previous day, a neighbor working with cement triggered Jim, who worked in masonry, to saunter over and show the guy how to use the proper scraper.

“Like a Progressive commercial, about not becoming your parents,” Mike said. “Hilarious [stuff]. It just happens. You can’t make this [stuff] up. Always comedy with these three Bozos. I’m thinking of just calling him Progressive.”

Zingers galore

Phil, John, Paul and Jim Ioriatti, from River Grove, made Vegas an annual Super Bowl excursion, with plenty of tee times.

However, John, at 71, died in January 2024. The funeral and ceremonies canceled last year’s adventure.

This year, Mike replaced John, his late father. The four Ioriattis played Bears Best the Thursday before the game, the Lexington course at Revere Golf Club on Friday and its Concord track Saturday.

At certain holes, especially with magnificent views that awed John, Mike deposited scoops of his pop’s ashes.

John was renowned for his poor eyesight. He’d nail a drive and say, “That felt good! Where’d it go?” Others in the foursome responded, Ohh, into the trees. Sliced it badly.

Only when they’d strolled 150 yards down the fairway would anyone reveal that John’s shot was dead-solid perfection.

“A comedian,” Mike said of his old man. “He always had priceless zingers.”

You’re John’s brother?!

The four Ioriatti boys attended Holy Cross High in River Grove, which shuttered 20 years ago.

Sixty-nine-year-old Paul said to Mike, “My freshman year, Brother Anthony told me, ‘Please tell me you’re not John Ioriatti’s brother?’ He didn’t like me and he didn’t like your dad, but he didn’t like me before he’d even met me!”

Phil, 75, remembered watching Jim, 67, play hoops for the Crusaders against Isiah Thomas, a St. Joseph guard who’d become a Hall of Famer.

“We were in the same league,” Phil said. “All I remember is they scored a lot, we scored a little.”

They all played baseball for legendary coach Frank Mariani. All are White Sox fans, except for Phil and the boys’ late father Tullio, known as “Big T,” fervent Cubs supporters.

Phil was 10 when he rode his bike to Wrigley Field, sat in a dollar bleacher seat and got hooked.

All are Bears fans except for Jim, a Packers fan who idolized Bart Starr. Sunday morning, Paul slapped a C-note on the Bears to win it all, at 40-to-1 odds, next season.

Twenty years ago, Phil moved to California. He lives in Chino Hills and bought the Henderson condo as a Vegas retreat.

Jim resides in Wayne and Paul, Mike’s godfather, has a home in St. Charles. Phil went to Illinois-Chicago, and he and Paul worked in the steel business. John ran a tool-and-die company.

Mike lives in Villa Park, where he went to Willow Brook High. The globe-trotter and University of Iowa graduate is in Information Technology.

Donna was the fifth and final child of Big T and Aida Ioriatti. Phil said, “They were so happy to have a girl!”

Squirming and perspiring

The ballroom was packed with more than 2,000 revelers and a dozen huge screens, reasonable concessions, betting kiosks and a betting window out on the concourse.

Mike said, “A hidden gem, guys. This is nuts!”

Paul noted how John always favored “betting on some stupid props.” To which Mike replied, “Yeah? I’m about to do the same.” He disappeared, returning with a clutch of tickets.

As Eagles quarterback Jalen Hurts scored his team’s first touchdown, on a one-yard plunge, Mike roared; he had Hurts scoring first for the Eagles, at +325 odds.

“That’s it! I win money!” Mike said. “Give me my money!”

Phil and Jim left for 90 minutes. “L1 and L2,” Mike said. “Those degenerates are playing the horses.”

Loser 1 and Loser 2 returned having won one of four races at Santa Anita.

When the first quarter ended with Philly up 7-0, Paul exploded. Back home, he had invested $500 in a squares game; he got Eagles 7, Chiefs 0. He’d split that action with 93-year-old Aunt Anita.

“We won $1,100 each,” Paul said. “I’m now Auntie ’Nita’s favorite nephew!”

A beat later, Jim said, “I used to be!”

That triggered rooting drama, to collect more from that 7-0 square. Halfway through the second quarter, Cooper DeJean picked off a Mahomes pass and ran it in from 38 yards out to make it 17-0.

“We have that!” Mike said of a special teams or defensive touchdown being recorded.

Phil answered, “I think we got it at plus 290.”

Maybe another 7-0 squares haul for Paul and Aunt Anita?

“Why do you think I’m squirming,” Paul said, “and perspiring?”

He had taken Green Valley Ranch, at $25 blackjack, for a grand Thursday evening, quitting when they switched dealers. Friday night, he took GVR for $600.

Inside of two minutes to halftime, though, Hurts hit AJ Brown with a 12-yard TD pass to derail another 7-0 payoff, and it didn’t hit again.

Awesome and hilarious

As the blowout continued, all anybody cared about was flipping through pages of proposition menus to check odds and options.

Mike turned to me and said, “Boy, your bet for a three-point game is gone!” Indeed, one of my three wagers soured. I only hit one, that a boot by Chiefs punter Matt Araiza would go for a touchback, at +165.

The Eagles completed their 40-22 pasting of the Chiefs and Phil reviewed his tickets. He and Jim had formed “a consortium,” making a big bet on Philly giving a point and a smaller one on under 49 for the game total.

Phil glanced at the tickets and grinned. The writer had mistakenly issued another wager on Eagles -1, not under 49, so they had two winners.

A couple, apparently on a blind date, had shown just before kickoff and asked to sit at our table. Late in the fourth quarter, the woman leaned in to me.

She whispered, “Thank god you guys were here. I’m on this ‘iffy’ deal with this doofus, but these guys are a reality show. It’s awesome! It’s hilarious, how they interact. Cute, amusing and unfiltered.”

No doubt making John proud.