Oct 24
When I got back from the casino on friday night I intended to wake up the next morning and write up a recap of the night’s ridiculosity. (I make up words like it’s my job.) Instead, I slept for just shy of eleven hours, finally waking up in a hazy stupor. I watched football for a few hours before throwing on a sweatshirt and heading back to the casino. I played for another 9 hours on Saturday afternoon – turned night – turned morning again – before stumbling back home and falling asleep for another ten hours. Rinse and repeat. Sunday – today if you will – I woke up and watched a few hours of football (pro this time vs college yesterday). Just before the White Sox game started I changed clothes and headed back, once more, to the casino.
Are you detecting a trend for the weekend? It’s hard to write a recap of the game when you never stop playing. At this point much of the weekend has all blurred together. It would be hard for me to recount more than a few interesting hands unless I were to take notes while at the table. I suppose that I can throw out a few highlights, though.
Friday was an absoludicrous day for gambling. I withdrew enough cash from my checking account to put me at the very limit of reason. I have to pay rent at the end of this week and were I to have taken out any more money, that wouldn’t be possible. I went to the casino Friday afternoon with 181 dollars – bones, straight cash money – in my pocket. My usual buy-in for $4-8 is $200 so I wasn’t too badly off. I sit into a game for $160 and within two hours I go broke. It was quite possibly the ugliest run of cards I have ever seen. The second hand dealt I get pocket kings and end up losing to a guy chasing the board with A3 offsuit and catches an ace. Three hands later I get pocket queens and lose to a guy playing 10 7 offsuit who flopped bottom pair of 7s and chased the river only to catch a 10. Within the two hours that I sat at the table I was dealt aces twice, pockets kings twice, queens three times, and jacks three times. I won with the aces once and lost all the rest. I went for a walk to catch my breath and found Matt playing $1-2 no-limit. He lent me $100 to rebuy, which I combined with the last 20 in my wallet to sit with $120. I take my seat only to be dealt pocket queens once again. I lose with the hand, but of course. I played for maybe fifteen minutes before taking my last $100 and walking away from the table. I cashed out and slipped the c-note back to Matt. It was obviously safer in his wallet than on my table.
I watch his game for a few minutes before he goes off with me to eat some dinner in the food court. At this point I have exactly 1 dollar in my pocket so I have to charge my dinner to a credit card. Matt once again offers to lend me the hundred to try and get back on my feet. At first I refuse but by the time our food is gone I’ve pocketed the bill. I decide to change my game and try to play some no-limit for a change. The list for 1-2 is about twenty names deep so after giving the floorman my name I stand around and watch Matt’s table while I wait. Watching cards is only interesting for a limited time, and I couldn’t stop fondling the hundred dollar bill in my pocket. I tell Matt that I will be back in a little bit and then wander off towards the pits. It is only a matter of minutes before I am seated at a blackjack table. I play for only three shoes but my cards were pretty good and I walked away from the table once I was up $60 – I was accutely aware that I shouldn’t be greedy, I wasn’t even gambling with my own money. My target for the table was 5 bets, so walking away with 6 felt like a big win. I went back to the cardroom and watched Matt for a little while longer before the boredom led me back to the blackjack tables. This time I only played for one shoe, but left the table up another 25 dollars. I was almost halfway back to even on the day!!
Eventually my name worked itself to the top of the list and I was given a seat at Matt’s no-limit game. I played a solid game, managing the risk as best as I could. I was content to win money 15 or 25 dollars at a time, instead of pushing for one huge score. The game was pretty crazy, the people were pretty cool, and I couldn’t possibly do the game justice in a paragraph’s description. Over all I should modestly describe the results as good. After nine hours at the table I cashed out for $597, and after repaying Matt the original $100 I posted a significant profit on the day – earlier losses considered. Somehow I had gone from $1 in my pocket to just shy of 500.
Saturday’s session was much less chaotic. My roommate Bill didn’t have any money to play, so I offered to stake him. I lent him $150 once he agreed to my terms. He gets $150 of my money to play with. If he loses it, he only has to repay me $75. If he wins, I get my original money back plus 50% of any profit, up to his first $150. At worst I lose $75, at best I win $75. Perhaps not the best deal for me, but he’s a friend and I don’t want to extort him. Moreover, I put his chances of making money in that game significantly higher than 50/50. It ended up working well for both of us as Bill was sitting on as much as $500 at one point in the game. He lost a few big hands at the end, though, and cashed out with a modest profit. I got all my stake back, and then some. As for me, I won just under $200 on my own.
Sunday after football I went back to the casino and played cards while I cheered on the White Sox. Matt and Bill stayed home so I had to entertain myself at the table. I make friends pretty easily at a card table, though, and there was a real friendly atmosphere to the game. I did my best to keep things light by straddling the blinds, betting odd amounts, and giving action to reasonable raises. “Well, I guess I’m pot-comitted…” as I call a 15 dollar raise from the 1 dollar small blind. True, I was all serious when it came to my actual game, but I did my best to disguise it. In fact, at every no-limit table I played this weekend almost everybody was having a good time. I even found myself at the same table as several people I had met during the previous few nights. When I strolled into the cardroom with Bill and Matt on Saturday, the manager patted me on the back and knew me by first name. “Are you looking for some more 1-2 or are you here for the 4-8?” Standing around waiting for my seat I had three different dealers come up and say hello. They all seem to know me as “Stanford”, or at least that’s what they call me, because I usually wear my blue Stanford hoody while I play. It’s a nice feeling to know the regulars, and more importantly, to be one. And even better than being known, is being respected. Even though I lightened their wallets by just under $900 in this weekend alone, the other players were more than eager to play with me again. As I left the table tonight – despite having straddled his small blind all night long – one of the players stopped me, shook my hand, and said, “It was a real pleasure to play with you.”
You can’t buy that kind of street-cred.