Teach
04-25-2015, 08:42 PM
Close but no cigar! Today, I just missed both Aqueduct’s late Pick-4 and 5 out of 6 in the “Big A” Pick-6. The culprits were the 10 Big Exultation in the 7th and the 8 Frogman Mel in the 9th. And to think that I used 2 Effinex in the 8th Race Excelsior Stakes.
Well, as I sat in my chair, deflated and monetarily depleted, I used the last dollar in my ADW account to make a ten-cents superfecta bet. Wouldn’t you know it, I just missed that, too. It came back $8 for a dime.
Today’s near-misses got me to thinking about days when I experienced last-minute successes. Those were days in which I literally pulled "a rabbit out of hat". I had snatched victory from the jaws of defeat.
Interestingly, all of my most memorable “miracle finishes” took place at casinos in Connecticut, either Foxwoods or Mohegan Sun.
I’ll start with a small victory and work my way up. Years ago, I was playing the horses at the Foxwoods Racebook. I wasn’t having a good day. I was left with one dollar left to wager. I was faced with a penniless hour-and a half ride back to my home in the Greater Boston area.
Well, I remember betting a one-dollar Pick-3 at Freehold. Three horses in three different consecutive races…and each one "popped". Now, I’m not going to make more of this than actually occurred. I want to say the Pick-3 that day came back $15 for a buck. Far from a life-changing experience.
Now, I was “flushed with cash” (ha! ha!), I went up the stairs to the snack bar just behind the racebook and had a coffee, a sandwich and some fries. At least I was well fortified for my 90-minute trip back to Massachusetts.
Oh there was another more lucrative experience that also occurred at Foxwoods' Racebook. I actually chronicled the full story: “The Royal Road To Riches” (I believe it’s in the archives). The title is a play on psychologist Sigmund Freud’s reference to dreams as “the royal road to the unconscious mind”.
Well, the story had to do with a dream I had that dealt with a horse that had three R’s in its name. A friend of mine and I found a horse running at Calder that day named Rory’s Rolls Royce. We bet him flat and went partners with him in a Pick-3. I might mention that by the time that Pick-3 sequence went off, I was down about $50 to $75.
As I recall, the total cost of the Pick-3 ticket was $18 (split between us, $9 each). We used the Rory horse in the first leg; he popped to the tune of about $14. We also hit the middle leg of the Pick-3 at a decent price, In the final leg, “Chop Chop,” Jorge Chavez, went wire-to-wire in a race that was taken off the turf and run on the main that provided us with a lucrative Pick-3 ticket, even when we split it between us, it was a solid hit. That was certainly a “red-letter” day.
Yet, there was another experience at Foxwoods and also one at Mohegan Sun that will always stand out.
I remember is was getting late and I needed to leave Foxwoods, soon. I was having no luck betting “the ponies”. All I had left was $10. As I headed for my car, I passed the craps tables. I figured what the heck. I threw my last “sawbuck” on the baize and called out “cheques”. Soon, I had two “redbirds”. As it turned out I was situated “straight-out” at the top of the table. I immediately became the shooter. In those days (I don’t go that often now) I’d “set” the dice. No random rolls for me. Not that this is a science. Anyway. My 2-2 on top set was producing “points”. “I love it when a plan comes together.” (George Peppard, “The ‘A’ Team”). I was scooping up chips faster than you can grab handfuls of pennies from a broken piggy bank. I’d say in a span of about ten minutes I made a quick "yard".
Well, then, surprise, surprise, a man at the other end of the craps table (I called him “The Marlboro Man”) with a black cowboy hat that was making scads of money off my roll sends his moll (girlfriend) over to me. She hands me “A Boston Blackie,” a $100 chip. I thank her, wave to him and leave the casino with over two “bones”.
One last story. I’ll make it short. I’m shooting craps (my last chance to recoup before heading for the exits). It’s in the casino of the Sun, or whatever they call it at Mohegun Sun. The table was adjacent to Johnny Rocketts.
Again, I’m shooting straight out. Budda-Bing. It was "bling-bling" time. When I started shooting, the table was nearly empty. Suddenly, I’m rockin’ and rollin’. It was as if someone got on the public address system and said: “Hot shooter next to Johnny Rocketts”. Well, people were coming out of the woodwork. No room at the inn. I’m stroking like a machine. It’s a “feeding frenzy”. There’s “blood in the water”. The sharks are circling. It’s so bad that there is absolutely no room. We're like sardines. I kid you not; there is no place for the dice to land. I mean the baize is covered with chips. It’s an oval technicolor crescendo. It’s like a kaleidoscope.
And, to add to the bounty, the guy next to me calls out in a moment of exhilaration: “$25 hard-ten for 'the Shooter'". A “Greenie” finds its way onto the prop bet area. Wouldn’t you know it, like clockwork: Diez Duro. A pair of Texas “flowers”. Am I dreaming?
Well, finally, after what seemed like an eternity, it was cinco-dos and adios!. But not before I made everyone at the table rich and made close $700 for my own account. Frankly, if I had any gonads, there was no telling what I would have made.
How ‘bout you. Any accounts of last-minute victories? Snatching victory from the jaws of defeat.
Well, as I sat in my chair, deflated and monetarily depleted, I used the last dollar in my ADW account to make a ten-cents superfecta bet. Wouldn’t you know it, I just missed that, too. It came back $8 for a dime.
Today’s near-misses got me to thinking about days when I experienced last-minute successes. Those were days in which I literally pulled "a rabbit out of hat". I had snatched victory from the jaws of defeat.
Interestingly, all of my most memorable “miracle finishes” took place at casinos in Connecticut, either Foxwoods or Mohegan Sun.
I’ll start with a small victory and work my way up. Years ago, I was playing the horses at the Foxwoods Racebook. I wasn’t having a good day. I was left with one dollar left to wager. I was faced with a penniless hour-and a half ride back to my home in the Greater Boston area.
Well, I remember betting a one-dollar Pick-3 at Freehold. Three horses in three different consecutive races…and each one "popped". Now, I’m not going to make more of this than actually occurred. I want to say the Pick-3 that day came back $15 for a buck. Far from a life-changing experience.
Now, I was “flushed with cash” (ha! ha!), I went up the stairs to the snack bar just behind the racebook and had a coffee, a sandwich and some fries. At least I was well fortified for my 90-minute trip back to Massachusetts.
Oh there was another more lucrative experience that also occurred at Foxwoods' Racebook. I actually chronicled the full story: “The Royal Road To Riches” (I believe it’s in the archives). The title is a play on psychologist Sigmund Freud’s reference to dreams as “the royal road to the unconscious mind”.
Well, the story had to do with a dream I had that dealt with a horse that had three R’s in its name. A friend of mine and I found a horse running at Calder that day named Rory’s Rolls Royce. We bet him flat and went partners with him in a Pick-3. I might mention that by the time that Pick-3 sequence went off, I was down about $50 to $75.
As I recall, the total cost of the Pick-3 ticket was $18 (split between us, $9 each). We used the Rory horse in the first leg; he popped to the tune of about $14. We also hit the middle leg of the Pick-3 at a decent price, In the final leg, “Chop Chop,” Jorge Chavez, went wire-to-wire in a race that was taken off the turf and run on the main that provided us with a lucrative Pick-3 ticket, even when we split it between us, it was a solid hit. That was certainly a “red-letter” day.
Yet, there was another experience at Foxwoods and also one at Mohegan Sun that will always stand out.
I remember is was getting late and I needed to leave Foxwoods, soon. I was having no luck betting “the ponies”. All I had left was $10. As I headed for my car, I passed the craps tables. I figured what the heck. I threw my last “sawbuck” on the baize and called out “cheques”. Soon, I had two “redbirds”. As it turned out I was situated “straight-out” at the top of the table. I immediately became the shooter. In those days (I don’t go that often now) I’d “set” the dice. No random rolls for me. Not that this is a science. Anyway. My 2-2 on top set was producing “points”. “I love it when a plan comes together.” (George Peppard, “The ‘A’ Team”). I was scooping up chips faster than you can grab handfuls of pennies from a broken piggy bank. I’d say in a span of about ten minutes I made a quick "yard".
Well, then, surprise, surprise, a man at the other end of the craps table (I called him “The Marlboro Man”) with a black cowboy hat that was making scads of money off my roll sends his moll (girlfriend) over to me. She hands me “A Boston Blackie,” a $100 chip. I thank her, wave to him and leave the casino with over two “bones”.
One last story. I’ll make it short. I’m shooting craps (my last chance to recoup before heading for the exits). It’s in the casino of the Sun, or whatever they call it at Mohegun Sun. The table was adjacent to Johnny Rocketts.
Again, I’m shooting straight out. Budda-Bing. It was "bling-bling" time. When I started shooting, the table was nearly empty. Suddenly, I’m rockin’ and rollin’. It was as if someone got on the public address system and said: “Hot shooter next to Johnny Rocketts”. Well, people were coming out of the woodwork. No room at the inn. I’m stroking like a machine. It’s a “feeding frenzy”. There’s “blood in the water”. The sharks are circling. It’s so bad that there is absolutely no room. We're like sardines. I kid you not; there is no place for the dice to land. I mean the baize is covered with chips. It’s an oval technicolor crescendo. It’s like a kaleidoscope.
And, to add to the bounty, the guy next to me calls out in a moment of exhilaration: “$25 hard-ten for 'the Shooter'". A “Greenie” finds its way onto the prop bet area. Wouldn’t you know it, like clockwork: Diez Duro. A pair of Texas “flowers”. Am I dreaming?
Well, finally, after what seemed like an eternity, it was cinco-dos and adios!. But not before I made everyone at the table rich and made close $700 for my own account. Frankly, if I had any gonads, there was no telling what I would have made.
How ‘bout you. Any accounts of last-minute victories? Snatching victory from the jaws of defeat.