Teach
03-08-2008, 09:19 PM
Except for the fact that I visited the track – Plainridge Racecourse – in MA yesterday, I haven’t set foot in a racetrack for well over a month. That’s probably akin to someone who smokes cigarettes not having a butt for ten minutes. I should know – I quit several years ago.
The reason I mention it is that I’ve started betting via the Internet. Just the other day I had nearly tapped out my account when I nailed a $60 exacta at The Big A.
Well, the only problem about gambling alone is that when you do snatch victory from the jaws of defeat, there’s no one else with whom you can share your jubilation, except maybe the family dog.
All this reminds me of a incident that occurred at Foxwoods in southeastern CT a few years ago. On that particular day, I had made my monthly sojourn to the teal blue oasis in the woods. Per usual, I shot some craps (the only thing goin’ on in the racebook was jai alai — not my cup of tea. Too easy to rig. It reminds me of the days when we used used to play handball in the schoolyard; only these guys on the court got baskets strapped to their wrists).
Well, I held my own at the craps table and then headed over to the racebook. I recall that on that day I could do nuthin. I shoulda stood in bed.
After about two hours, I’ve got one single $5 chip – a redbird – in my pocket; it was left over from my morning craps session. I decide to head for the exits. As I headed for the casino cage to convert my single chip into a picture of Abe Lincoln (I don’t think gas stations take casino chips; at least I haven’t heard such), I pass by the craps tables. There’s an opening on the hook. For an instant, I’m doing one of these: Should I, or Shouldn’t I?
Well, I decided to take one last shot with my single red chip. It so happens that the guy to my right at the straightout position has "loser" written all over him. How do I know? I don’t. I’m guessing. In any event, I play from the Don’ts.
It turns out that the fates were kind to me. The guy "sevened out." I’m alive! But barely. Hey, I’ve doubled my money.
Now, it’s my turn. I don’t know what it was but I knew I had to bring my "A" game. Please realize (you wouldn’t know this unless I tell you) that I practice shooting dice (at least I did): different sets, different combinations, landing areas. Call it "rhythm rolling." Yes, I’ve had some suceess, but I can’t quantify it.
Anyway. I’m shootin’ from the "Right Side," the pass line. And wouldn't you know it, I’m stroking. I’m in a groove. I’m throwin naturals on come-outs and hitting numbers when I have to. Yet, I am betting conservatively. Basically, a line bet with free odds behind it and an occasional 6 and/or 8. I must be back to about $50 on the rail.
Well, just then I notice at the other end of the table a guy I call "Tex." He wears this big black cowboy hat. He’s got with him his wife, or concubine, or signigicant other, or mistress. You fill in the multiple choice answer. She’s actually nicely preserved. Petite. Bleached blonde. I called her "Calamity Jane."
Well, "Tex" is down the other end betting with reckless abandon on my roll. I mean I’m beginning to throw more numbers than a high school algebra class. And "Tex" is raking in the dinero like there’s no tomorrow.
Anyway, the table’s filling up like somebody just got on the PA (nothing to do with this site) system and announced: "'Teach' is in the middle of a hot roll." I mean people are coming out of the woodwork. In fact. there are so many chips on the layout, you can’t see the felt below.
To make a long story shorter (hey, I’m a former teacher), I did finally seven-out, but not before enriching half the population of New London county, CT.
As I accepted numerous congratulations, I looked down on the rail, my single red chip had multiplied into well over twenty-five. I didn’t know those things could reproduce. Hey, I like it when they do.
And to add some frosting to the cake...as I’m about to leave, "Calamity Jane," "Tex's" gun moll, comes over and says, "That's from (I forgot "Tex's real name)." She proceeds to hand me a "Boston Blackie," a $100 casino chip. Talk About snatching victory from the jaws of defeat.
Oh, that Internet wagering I was doin'. That $60 exacta I had hit at Aqudeuct. Well, I gave it all back -- and then some. In fact, I tapped. Now, where's "Tex" when I need him?
The reason I mention it is that I’ve started betting via the Internet. Just the other day I had nearly tapped out my account when I nailed a $60 exacta at The Big A.
Well, the only problem about gambling alone is that when you do snatch victory from the jaws of defeat, there’s no one else with whom you can share your jubilation, except maybe the family dog.
All this reminds me of a incident that occurred at Foxwoods in southeastern CT a few years ago. On that particular day, I had made my monthly sojourn to the teal blue oasis in the woods. Per usual, I shot some craps (the only thing goin’ on in the racebook was jai alai — not my cup of tea. Too easy to rig. It reminds me of the days when we used used to play handball in the schoolyard; only these guys on the court got baskets strapped to their wrists).
Well, I held my own at the craps table and then headed over to the racebook. I recall that on that day I could do nuthin. I shoulda stood in bed.
After about two hours, I’ve got one single $5 chip – a redbird – in my pocket; it was left over from my morning craps session. I decide to head for the exits. As I headed for the casino cage to convert my single chip into a picture of Abe Lincoln (I don’t think gas stations take casino chips; at least I haven’t heard such), I pass by the craps tables. There’s an opening on the hook. For an instant, I’m doing one of these: Should I, or Shouldn’t I?
Well, I decided to take one last shot with my single red chip. It so happens that the guy to my right at the straightout position has "loser" written all over him. How do I know? I don’t. I’m guessing. In any event, I play from the Don’ts.
It turns out that the fates were kind to me. The guy "sevened out." I’m alive! But barely. Hey, I’ve doubled my money.
Now, it’s my turn. I don’t know what it was but I knew I had to bring my "A" game. Please realize (you wouldn’t know this unless I tell you) that I practice shooting dice (at least I did): different sets, different combinations, landing areas. Call it "rhythm rolling." Yes, I’ve had some suceess, but I can’t quantify it.
Anyway. I’m shootin’ from the "Right Side," the pass line. And wouldn't you know it, I’m stroking. I’m in a groove. I’m throwin naturals on come-outs and hitting numbers when I have to. Yet, I am betting conservatively. Basically, a line bet with free odds behind it and an occasional 6 and/or 8. I must be back to about $50 on the rail.
Well, just then I notice at the other end of the table a guy I call "Tex." He wears this big black cowboy hat. He’s got with him his wife, or concubine, or signigicant other, or mistress. You fill in the multiple choice answer. She’s actually nicely preserved. Petite. Bleached blonde. I called her "Calamity Jane."
Well, "Tex" is down the other end betting with reckless abandon on my roll. I mean I’m beginning to throw more numbers than a high school algebra class. And "Tex" is raking in the dinero like there’s no tomorrow.
Anyway, the table’s filling up like somebody just got on the PA (nothing to do with this site) system and announced: "'Teach' is in the middle of a hot roll." I mean people are coming out of the woodwork. In fact. there are so many chips on the layout, you can’t see the felt below.
To make a long story shorter (hey, I’m a former teacher), I did finally seven-out, but not before enriching half the population of New London county, CT.
As I accepted numerous congratulations, I looked down on the rail, my single red chip had multiplied into well over twenty-five. I didn’t know those things could reproduce. Hey, I like it when they do.
And to add some frosting to the cake...as I’m about to leave, "Calamity Jane," "Tex's" gun moll, comes over and says, "That's from (I forgot "Tex's real name)." She proceeds to hand me a "Boston Blackie," a $100 casino chip. Talk About snatching victory from the jaws of defeat.
Oh, that Internet wagering I was doin'. That $60 exacta I had hit at Aqudeuct. Well, I gave it all back -- and then some. In fact, I tapped. Now, where's "Tex" when I need him?