"This put him at risk for $6,500, including the vig (vigorish or tribute) on the 4 and 10. On the next roll of the dice, if the shooter made his point or any of the other five numbers, Arnold would collect his winnings, take down all his wagers, and walk away.
"He went from casino-to-casino. He came home several thousand dollars ahead.
"Arnold,' I said, 'that's no system except for suicide! You can't overcome dice odds that way!'
"Did you ever talk to a brick wall?
"Arnold smiled benignly at me. What did I know?
"All he knew was that he went back to Las Vegas and won again. And again. . . .
"[H]e made another journey to his easy-money land. This trip didn't begin well. He walked up to a table, waited until the shooter threw a point, then made his $6,500 worth of bets. The next roll was a seven.
"He hurried to another table and did the same thing. The second roll was a 7. After it happened at the third table in the casino, he stumbled across the Strip to another casino [the Sands], It happened three times again. He came home a $39,000 loser.
"Neither of us ever mentioned his 'system' again."
Now let me fill you in on all the gory details of my Last Stand at that ill-chosen craps table at the Sands. . . .
Early on, I did have success with my One-Roll "System." Then, on that most unfortunate day, after I already had lost five times in a row, I convinced myself it just couldn't happen for a sixth time. No way. This time would be a sure-thing winner.
I bellied-up to the next craps table and saw that 8 was the point. Couldn't be better. In a loud voice I confidently announced "$6,500, across the board," dropping the necessary chips onto the cloth. As always, a bet of this size aroused the attention of both the table personnel and the players. The boxman peered at me intently. I could see that he was sizing me up. Me, I couldn't have cared less but, in retrospect, I should have cared more. Somehow, instinctively, he had my number.
A gaunt cowboy at the end of the table was the shooter. Now the dice were set on the cloth in front of the boxman, ready for the next roll. Then the boxman did a curious thing. With his right index finger he turned over one of the dice, just gave it one little turn. Then the stickman pushed the dice over to the shooter, who picked them up and threw them against the back wall for a 7-out. The boxman flashed a broad smile and snapped his fingers with an "I-knew-I-did-it" flourish. And damned if he didn't. That single roll retired my "one-roll-system" for good.
As I gambled more in the casinos I learned more, a lot more. Perhaps my ill-fated "one-roll-at-a-table-hit-and-run system" will teach you what not to do in the casinos. In theory it was a good system. In practice it was a road to ruin.
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Tags: craps table, roll of the dice
A good boxman at the craps tables has sharper eyes than an eagle, and is ten times more street savvy than a sidewalk peddler in front of Macy's. He is always on the alert for unusual moves by a player, especially the person shooting the dice. More than once I have seen the boxman halt the game and request that the player holding the dice—particularly if he switched them from one hand to the other, or made some other unorthodox movement with the cubes—to drop them back on the table for examination before allowing them to be put back into play.
Any die that flies off the table is returned to the boxman to be checked before the shooter can continue the roll. Dice in play at each table are secretly coded to prevent any loaded dice from being switched into the game. Only once did I see a die fly off the table and get returned directly into play without the boxman examining it. The player who picked up the cube and directly tossed it back into action for the shooter was Dean Martin.
When a die, or both dice, are thrown with such force that they fly off the craps table, great care is taken to find the cube or cubes and return it, or them, to the boxman. Sometimes a game can be halted for several minutes while players, stickmen, and pit personnel scurry around looking for the lost dice.
One time a die whizzed past me and, no matter how hard we all looked, the cube never showed up. Later, at a blackjack table, I reached into my jacket pocket for a Kleenex and came up with the missing die.
I've heard stories of loaded dice being switched into the game. If true, this had to be done with the contrivance of both the box-man and the stickmen, if not the pit boss too. With all the safeguards in place in today's casinos it would be a daring and risky undertaking.
Some boxmen have a sixth sense when it comes to the roll of the dice. Ask me, I know. The simple movement of the index finger of a boxman at the Las Vegas Sands during my wild and foolhardy early days foraying in the casinos cost me thousands of dollars. That one little movement by the boxman's index finger at the Sands cost me $6,500. It also sounded the death-knell for one of my first ill-conceived hotshot, sure-fire "systems."
Even today I wince at my daring, and the ultimate disastrous consequences of that system. Rather than relating the painful details myself, here's how my mentor, Lyle Stuart, told it in his Winning at Casino Gambling:
"[A] postscript about my friend, Arnold. On one occasion he believed he had a sure-fire system. He would stand at a craps table, wait for the shooter to come out with a point and then place bets of $1,000 on the 5 and 9, $1,200 each on the 6 and 8, and he'd buy the 4 and 10 for $1,000 each.
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