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It's like I always tell myself when everything that could go wrong has gone wrong: You have to lose to win.
And even after all these years, I still believe it.
Dogs gave me just one win in seven picks for the second day in succession, so now even the 50x rules set is awash in red ink for the first time this year.
I concluded quite a while back that seven picks a day is too many, but on days when all dogs are getting their hides thrashed, you're going to do badly no matter how many selections you back or how clever you think you are.
It's the percentages, stupid (I'm quoting a former President of the USA here, not insulting my readers!).
When I strolled into my "local" for a half hour of blackjack, I had no idea, obviously, that all but one of my underdogs were doomed to defeat.
Not that it would have made any difference.
What woulda made a difference was if I had paid attention to one of the regulars, who was standing in the cashier's line with a long face, and told me: "I wouldn't if I were you...all the dealers are hot this afternoon."
An hour later, I was licking my wounds from my first serious loss in months, and contemplating the awful truth that for now, I'm in the hole for the year to date.
Ouch!
There are still eight more months to go, of course, and I walked away from the killing field in mid-recovery after the dealer turned a stiff into 21 for the third time in a row.
That kind of luck you can't beat!
I'll have to buy in with three times as much cash next time to support the higher level of betting, but that's standard and nothing to worry about.
The likelihood is that I will be ahead again after the next session, which probably won't be until next week because I am never in a hurry to get back in the action after taking a rare drubbing at the tables.
One thing that provided an interesting distraction yesterday was the misbehavior of a player who was a stranger to me, and whom I hope will remain so.
He wasn't drunk and he didn't violate the basic strategy for blackjack, but he was a jerk who flashed green chips like a sailor on shore leave, and sighed and moaned about the fact that the two players on each side of him were betting the royal match.
My view is that RM is a mug's game, but yesterday the two punters at my table were making more money at that than they were at blackjack.
I don't like the way that what I see as a silly bet slows up everything else, but there is no sense in joining other players at a table if you have a hard time suffering the strangeness of your fellow man.
The fact that he was pushing hundreds of dollars out on each of two hands - and, what was worse, kept winning while the rest of us took it in the shorts! - did not give him the right to try to control the table.
The right way to respond to players who irritate you (a dealer too, for that matter) is to take up your chips and walk away.
Fools have a right to be parted from their money (as I was yesterday!) any way they want, and giving them a hard time is just plain rude.
The deadly table session was a reminder that the sports book is so much more civilized than the casino floor in so many ways.
I'm still waiting for Pinnacle to credit my new account - they have had my money for more than a week now, and the only thing that is stopping me from getting seriously anxious about that is the A+ rating they get from pretty much all the objective online critics I have canvassed for background.
The Pinnacle site is certainly impressive. Pity I still can't play any of their games!
Here's today's sports book update. Shed a few tears for the 7-dog trial, by all means...
An important reminder: The only person likely to make money out of this blog is you, Dear Reader. There's nothing to buy, ever, and your soul is safe (from me, at least). Test my ideas and use them or don't. It's up to you. One more piece of friendly advice: If you are inclined to use target betting with real money against online "casinos" such as Bodog, spend a few minutes and save a lot of money by reading this.
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