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Control the Dice,
and your NERVES There is a small
problem with practicing shooting craps on a home-built layout. In the calm and tranquility of your home, you are
relaxed and focused. When you get to the
casino the cacophony of sounds, the dazzle of lights, the speed of the action, plus the
fervor of real play will sometimes affect your shooting, and the effect isnt usually
good. What works at home, doesnt always
work in real-life casino action. One friend of mine
named Ken, has a practice layout at home. Hes
become reasonably proficient at shooting, and has worked his average up to
fifteen-rolls-between-sevens. An admirable
accomplishment, indeed! However, when he got
the dice in his hand at the casino, he shook and trembled more than Michael Jackson did on
his wedding night! At first I thought
our 45-minute drive to the casino could be the culprit.
He likes to ride in style and luxury, but is deathly afraid of speed, so I
drove my Rolls-Royce Silver Spur instead of choosing a sportier, faster choice. Its a land-barge that I truly love, but it
doesnt accept any level of spirited driving. Its akin to riding on a really comfortable
sofa, so I knew the trip was not upsetting in that way.
However, our
conversation about him being a fan of the Canadian Football League did irk him a little
bit. Dont get me wrong, I LOVE
football. U.S. College ball is a passion of
mine, and has been for many years. I also
like the fast-passing action of the CFL game, but I was a little critical of some of their
players. In some cities, quite a number of
team-members left for the greener (HAH!) fields of Vince McMahons now-defunct XFL. So in some cases, last years team-mascot is
this years starting quarterback. A few teams
have more players on smoking-side
of bench than non-smoking, and I questioned their dedication and commitment to the game. I calmed him down before we actually walked into
the casino, by putting his mind to other happy pursuits like WINNING MONEY! Still Ken looked
nervous and edgy when the dice were passed to him. Perhaps
it was the coffee that we had consumed on our way there.
We both love coffee, but he doesnt lick the TV screen every time a
Maxwell House commercial comes on, and he hadnt named his twin daughters Cappuccino
and Espresso, so I pretty much ruled out excess-caffeine as the reason. This happened
several times when it was his turn. After yet
another one of his quick and short-lived Point-then-7-out hands, I asked his what was
wrong. He said that he just couldnt get
focused, and that it wasnt as easy in the casino as it had been at home. I asked if having an audience when he
shot was making a difference. Ken said that
his wife and two daughters often watched and recorded his rolls at home, so he didnt
feel that was the culprit. I asked if the
smoke or the lights or the sounds, or the hubbub of the table action and the betting was
breaking his concentration. He shook his
head, and resolved to try again. When the
dice came to his table position once more, the same thing happened. He was distraught enough to leave the table,
thereby missing out on a terrific roll that I produced just after his departure. As I was coloring-out my winnings, I considered
whether my own performance was adversely affecting him.
Perhaps I had set a standard that he felt compelled to match. When I caught up with Ken, I put that very
question to him. He shook his head and I
could see the disappointment of his poor session had not yet subsided. Over lunch, I tried
to convince him to give the tables another try, but he wasnt interested. I changed the subject to my recent Caribbean
high-seas adventure. We talked about the
waves and the babes, and how it sometimes happens that you catch an amazing wave, but then
realize that your trunks have caught a completely different wave. I told him how we stumbled into Seniors Day at a
nude beach near Sosua in Dominican Republic, and I painted a graphic picture of that
event. I even told him about the four
most-hated words during that trip, Sand in my ass! He laughed and we talked about the diversity of
the great food, but also some of the worst food, and I wasnt just talking about
finding a red clown McHair in my McNuggets. A
number of laughs later, he was a little reluctant to return to the tables, but eventually agreed to. His second session was no better than the first. I did reasonably well, but my own concentration
was now unfocused by his obvious lack of enjoyment and disillusionment. The drive home was
pretty quiet. My usual funny stories seemed
inappropriate at the moment, and the somber mood was starting to bring ME down. I said, Well its a good thing that you
only missed one of my good rolls, otherwise, youd be
looking at a loss instead of the decent profit thats in your pocket. He said, Yeah, if I could shoot the dice
without having to bet, Id probably do great.
Ken went on to say, I feel a lot more comfortable when I bet on your
rolls, or even that of a random-roller, than I do when its my turn to shoot. When he said that, it wasnt
like a light-bulb being switched on in my head, it was more like I had just INVENTED the lightbulb! I
said, Buddy, lets go back and try something. I explained my plan as we made our way back to the
casino. This time around, I
had him bet the Pass Line only. No Odds, no
Place bets, no Come bets, just a naked table-minimum Pass Line wager. I, on the other hand, did double-duty on his
rolling. Once he had gotten past two rolls
after establishing his Point, I made wagers that were double my usual amount. As number after number hit, I put all the profit
into a segregated portion of my rail. Seventeen
rolls later the demon-7 reared its revolting head.
I took exactly one-half of the roll-profit and handed it to Ken. I said, Only think about the dollars if your
nerves can handle it, otherwise, you do the rolling and let someone else do the betting
for you. He readily agreed. Three more circuits around the table, and Ken had
three more notable hands. After each one, he
was amazed and grateful for my profit-sharing program.
He said, I feel like humming a mantra Forget about the
money
Concentrate on the Shooting, ommmm.
We cashed out and left as VERY happy campers. Ken had learned how
to control the dice, but not his nerves. Now
that weve got the butterflies flying in formation, maybe we can work on his fear of
SPEED. Good Luck &
Good Skill at the Tables
and in Life. By: The Mad
Professor
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