Somewhere deep in the belly of the beast a wizened old veteran of the pits is holding court. His mission – to teach the latest group of pit trainees – fresh scrubbed Hospitality Industry graduates from public universities throughout the heartland – how to ice down a hot table.
First of all, he says, slow the game down. Make the stick man turn the dice over – then send them to you so you can pick them up and inspect them.
If slowing the game down doesn’t work – speed the game up. Tell the stick to pick it up so the shooter has to throw the dice before all the bets are paid. Then maybe he’ll hit someone’s hands and seven out.
Next, try interjecting yourself into the game. Get into an argument with a player over a prop bet. Stop the game to warn someone about holding their drink over the rail. Or complain to the shooter about the way he’s tossing the dice.
Tell the shooter to throw them higher.
Tell him to keep them down.
Tell him to throw them harder.
Tell him to be sure both dice hit the back wall – even if they DID hit the back wall.
If that doesn’t work try chatting the shooter up. Ask him if he brought his wife with him this trip. Does he want a nice comp for dinner after he’s through shooting. How about them Cowboys? Or the biggie – Do you always set the dice like that?
Call the beverage server over and have her tap the shooter on the shoulder and ask if he wants anything.
Order up a chip refill and put a roadblock on the table.
Change the dice out and send in a set of coolers.
Have the floor person walk around behind the shooter and throw salt on his back.
Get the house shill to squeeze in at the rail beside the shooter so he has to shift positions. Get the other house shill to stagger up to the table, pretend he is drunk and toss out a bunch of late bets.
Send the dice out with the seven showing.
Sent the dice out with the hardways showing.
Have the dealer place the shooter’s pay offs just out of his reach.
Short stick the dice to the shooter.
And the big one – have the house shill toss out three bucks and shout, “Hopping the sevens.”
And in the back of the classroom – one of the fresh young college grads raises his hand tentatively. “But I thought we were running a fair game,” he commented.
“Well of course it’s fair,” said the old pit boss as he crossed his fingers behind his back. “I don’t believe any of that stuff works – but as long as the PLAYER’s do we’ll keep using it.”
