The Brad Hole

Last Thursday, my friends and I took our annual trip to Vegas, a tradition we've held since 1990. This year presented an extra (and unexpected challenge) in that the one week the four of us could make it happened to coincide with NASCAR weekend in Vegas (estimated to bring in 140,000 extra people), as well as two large conventions totaling 90,000 people. Finding a reasonably-priced hotel room was challenging, but we pulled it off by staying Thursday and Friday at the Luxor and spending Saturday night at the Flamingo in Laughlin, which essentially signaled the end of our trip.

I've had great luck the past two years with my own little "system" of blackjack. It's actually not so much a system as it is an observation - namely that I'm typically up 50% over my starting total at some point during play. So I've decided that if I hit that point, I automatically get up and leave. Invariably, it happens very quickly. It means that I never win much in one sitting, but over the long run, it adds up. It also means that I don't sit there and gamble the whole time, which is nice.

Anyway, luck wasn't a lady this past trip. I managed to hit my magic 50% stopping point in over half the casinos we visited, but several others put up stiff resistance, and I walked away a loser for the trip. MGM Grand, from hell's heart I stab at thee!

You could definitely tell it was NASCAR weekend. I've never seen so many handlebar mustaches in my life, and the jean brand of choice was definitely Wrangler. I also got the sense that many of these folks had never visited Las Vegas, or certainly had never played table games before.

Still, the Chump Play of the Trip happened to go to our friend Ron, who when given a 13 at Blackjack, hit against a dealer showing a six. He busted with 23, the dealer drew to 21 and everyone at the table lost. However, we can excuse this because Ron was working on 2 hours of sleep at the time.