The Wake

“What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.” Ever heard that line? It’s the one and only commandment in Sin City. Because if Hugh Hefner and Heidi Fleiss had a baby, it would be christened under one name only…Vegas, baby, Vegas!!! I thought about South Padre Island, considered Cancun and contemplated Panama City Beach for Spring Break, but one place always came up aces in my mind: Las Vegas.

Maybe it was the Travel Channel’s Top-Ten-Bathrooms-in-Vegas special or The World Poker Tour pulling me and my wallet to a Disneyland for adults. Whatever the case, gambling has captured the interest of many and I wanted a piece of the action.

Thanks to cameras in the table, Poker is the hot new spectator sport because it allows viewers to see the cards before they’re played. NBC premiered a Texas Hold ‘em tournament before the Super Bowl, Fox Sports Net features late night poker and ESPN has replayed the 2003 World Series of Poker so many times I couldn’t help but get the gambling jitters. Then there’s sports betting. The “real” reality television.

The sports books in Las Vegas grant every wish a sports enthusiast could ask for. Free drinks, gigantic televisions, leather chairs and the ability to throw some wood on your favorite sports team, all coming together in one glorious room.

The sports book is divided between the horse gamblers on the left and the sports gamblers on the right. The two rarely interact. It was fun to see these old codgers smoking cigs, reading horseracing magazines and sipping on Budweisers as if they’ve been there for years. It’s almost as if the horserace gamblers loathe the cheering on the sports side.

My first experience, however, left a lot to be desired. My buddies and I settled into the Bellagio sports book and missed the tip-off for the Wisconsin, Illinois Big Ten title game. So we’re chiding Greg, the only Wisconsin Badger amongst us, for screwing up the time. Apparently they don’t teach time zones at Madison.

So I figured we couldn’t wager on the game. I also forgot we were in Las Vegas and if Vegas can get money from you, it will. So we put some money on the second half. I laid a measly ten dollars on the over/under, betting on the over at 66.5. Essentially, I was gunning for Wisconsin and Illinois to score more than 66.5 points combined. As the game wore down and Greg and I were trying to add up scores after a few White Russians, I needed two more points to cover. With seconds left, Illinois misses three consecutive baskets within 15 feet. Combined score at the end…65. The entire room either cheered or booed as the “overs” ripped up their tickets and the “unders” went to the cage to collect.

Before we left the sports book, we stumbled over and made a couple more bets for the road. The New Jersey Nets were giving two points to the Miami Heat and the Dallas Mavericks were giving five points to the Clippers. I took the Nets and Mavs in a parlay bet. Simply put, if both teams win, I win more than if I bet on each team individually. If just one team loses, I’m busted.

As we hustled over to the New York, New York casino, our entire group was like a bunch of degenerates.

“Hey, did someone get the Nets, Heat score? When does the Mavs game start?”

Well, the Nets laid an egg in Miami and Dallas covered. Either way, I lost. Advantage: Vegas.

Before the trip ended, I had my redemption on our last night at The Venetian. Greg and I saddled up to a crowded craps table. Ten dollar minimum to a $10,000 maximum bet. Greg counted his few remaining dollars and I tell him to play it all as the dice are being pushed my way.

Craps, in its simplest form, involves rolling a number, let’s say an eight, and then rolling that same number again without rolling a seven (craps). I’m rolling dice at the bone yard for over 45 minutes hitting point after point. I was like a pitcher in a no-hitter.

Greg didn’t say a word to me. I shook some guy’s hand and gave a woman a high-five after I hit my first point. From then on, it was ritual. Handshake, high-five, roll the dice. I finish nailing five points. I’m up over two hundred dollars. An old guy across the table who was betting literally thousands on each roll calls me over. The man hands me $2,000 in chips. I made him over $56,000 and I get a gratuity.

Vegas paid for my flight, my hotel, my drinks and my blown bets at the sportsbook. I’m definitely coming back.