STREETWISE Blackjack

Music to My Ears

That's not what I do best anyway. Decades ago, a writing instructor in a freshman college class once scolded me that I needed to speak from a familiar voice, one that cared about his subject. The thought stuck. As a musician and writer, I find there are great similarities between the two art forms, in terms of creative process and outcome. It is far easier to play a song or piece of music that moves you as opposed to one that doesn't matter. The results are more passionate‹like anything else in life, you expend more energy when you care, and the outcome is usually more rewarding.

So this column tends toward the philosophical. I happen to believe anything worth doing, is worth doing with some amount of preparation and forethought. "Be a Boy Scout," "Do your homework," and all those other trite clichés apply--particularly when you are going to put your hard-earned money at risk in activities most professionals find difficult to master.

Realizing most of you are not aspiring to emulate career Mississippi riverboat gambling pros, merely hoping to win a few bucks on your next casino visit, I still subscribe to the same theories. I don't care if you've been playing for one week or one decade, the only way I know to win is NOT gamble, but handicap.

This means a clear and well defined understanding of the odds, rules, strategies, and bankroll control long before you step into a casino. There are only a small number of games worth any consideration if handicapping is involved. These games offer very small House advantages and contain opportunities for a sharp player to win. In a casino these table games include blackjack, baccarat and craps. All others have structures, rules or odds so weighted toward the House, the only way to win is pure luck. That's why they call it gambling.

Casinos love gamblers. They know the element of luck is fleeting and is a two-way street. They also know if most folks get a lucky "hit" they won't flee the casino with the loot. They will continue playing, lose their small fortune, then start digging in their own pockets or hit the nearest ATM.

In conjunction with work on my five-volume book on the history of gambling in America, After the Gold Rush, I recently had the pleasure of interviewing one of the world's leading blackjack and casino experts. This is a man who has been involved in casinos for more than three decades, but like myself, would hesitate to label himself a gambler.

The distinctions are fine but true. If you are a master of probabilities and odds, one who combines the search for value with true edges, and only risk money when you have a conspicuous advantage, you are not a gambler in the most popular definition. This man I'll call John, has made an exceptionally successful career of playing high stakes blackjack throughout the world.

In the first of several delightful phone interviews, we carried on a conversation as if we were longtime friends, which in a funny way, we are. We have both been involved in the same universe for the same amount of time, share acquaintances and possess a similar philosophical base. It is one we both arrived at after much contemplation and hard work. It isn't for everyone, because it requires some degree of experience and understanding and maybe more effort and energy than most care to expend.

The approach is holistic, incorporating an understanding of abstract thought, art, discipline, economic theory, mathematical proportion and probability, and a lust for life. There are many other diverse elements as well and we both agree one of the best descriptions is not the model of a warrior battling the casino but a Zen monk. That is, one who spends days, months or years in contemplation and preparation before acting, not from impulse or desire but from a clear vision.

John and I both realize most people want to dive headfirst into a casino, get some free booze, ogle the cocktail waitresses and gamble. They want some action! If that's what you want, that's what you'll get. The distinction I'm making is one between fast food and a finely prepared full-course meal. Each has the possibility of filling your stomach. But as far as real nourishment and a quality experience, there is a world of difference. One of my favorite quotes comes from something John wrote years ago: "Winning gambling is an art." To succeed in music, writing, and art you need melody, rhythm, harmony, passion, an overture and coda. It is no different in a casino. (To be continued).