Posts Tagged ‘craps table’
June 9th, 2009
I don’t believe in voodoo mumbo-jumbo, but I do believe there is such a thing as ESP-extrasensory perception-especially if you spend enough years surfing the casinos. I’ve experienced it myself a number of times. I can’t explain how or why,- I can only tell you that it happened to me. It happened also to a gal from Sacramento, California, who had a sudden premonition that she was going to hit it big on a slot machine and, over the protestations of her family, drove all night from Sacramento to Reno. As the National Encjuirer reported it in a splashy picture story, she marched up to a quarter progressive machine and promptly hit for over a million.
It also happened to Allan J. Wilson, a publishing executive from New York. As he relates it, he was at a craps table in Las Vegas when he had a premonition that the shooter would have a great roll. Confidently, he wagered heavily, backing his bets up all the way. The shooter held the dice for thirty-eight minutes!
There have been times when the dice were in the air and I knew what the outcome would be. More than once I started to walk away from the craps table before the dice landed and the stickman announced, “Seven and out.” And there were times I confidently relaxed at my place at the table, just waiting for my bet to be paid off before the shooter even finished his “windup,” preparing to toss a beautiful Queen of Hearts, topped off with a handsome Ace of Spades, for $750 payoff for my “mistake” $500 bet. odds on football
Sure, I won big on this comedy of errors, but it could have easily turned into a tragedy of errors, and washed away the $500 that I had no intention of wagering. The lesson to be learned here is to stay alert, and keep your eye at all times on your money on the table. Don’t depend on luck, or dumb luck, to help you come home with some of the casino’s money.
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Tags: casino, craps table
June 7th, 2009
But … As 1 have said so many times, I don't believe in luck. People make their own luck. My philosophy is, and has always been, that I wouldn't care if a zebra dealt the cards, or if a monkey rolled the dice. I tell you this as a preamble to two memorable episodes I witnessed during two blackjack sessions at Atlantic City casinos.
The first was at the Showboat, where I was sitting a couple of spots away from a loud-mouthed kid, whom I immediately pegged as a novice. Yet the way the cards were coming his way, he didn't have to know much. From the very first deal he was off-and-running.
He just couldn't lose. He turned up blackjack-after-blackjack, and when he missed a blackjack he got 20s and 21s. He wasn't betting big, the dumb kid wouldn't budge over the one-green-chip minimum, even though he won hand-after-hand-after-hand.
Even playing it so close to the vest, he still had a fairly decent pile of chips in front of him by the end of the shoe. He showed a very cavalier, take-it-for-granted attitude about what had happened as he leisurely picked up his chips and wandered over to a craps table. I never saw the kid again, but I'm pretty sure no matter how many more blackjack tables he gambles at for the rest of his life, this singular episode will stand out as his One Shoe of Fame. I only hope the kid appreciated it. I did.
The second episode happened in the $25-minimum blackjack pit at the Atlantic City Sands. Taking the two contiguous seats at "first base"—I play two hands—I found myself next to a flashily dressed Italian lady who must have applied Chanel No. 5 with a garden hose. To nail down my spot prior to the dealing of the shoe, I put a green chip on each of the two open spaces. I could see Miss Naples was visibly annoyed—she obviously wanted my other spot— but with a typical Latin shrug of the shoulders she settled down with her single spot. In retrospect I would have been overjoyed to have given her that second spot. Financially, I would have been far better off. On the other hand, Miss Naples, limited to her solitary spot, began her spectacular run, something she or I will never forget. Never, but never, have I seen so many blackjacks in the run of a shoe. After her fourth blackjack in a row even she became a little uneasy with the unreality of it all.
If I myself hadn't happened to cut the cards on that particular shoe I would have sworn that the fix was in. It was truly one shoe for the books! And the lady was a High Roller. The table had a $2,500 limit, and she often bet the limit. It was mind-boggling to see her rake in all those purple and yellow chips as the piles of chips before her just grew higher and higher.
When the shoe was finished, the pit bosses came around to survey the damage. The figure bandied about was $62,000—all from that one shoe. During the entire run of the shoe I recall her only losing maybe four or five hands, a stunning streak. (No, it never happened to me. I never even came close.) Was I jealous? You're damn right I was. Why, oh why, couldn't it have happened to me? Some day my turn will come. . . .
Can it happen to you? Sure, it can. I only recount these two episodes to show you that it can happen to someone.
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Tags: atlantic city casinos, blackjack tables, casino, craps table