Blackjack, Dad, Uncles and Life
I was in Tahoe a few weeks ago when I had a really interesting experience. I was sitting at the blackjack table with my Dad and my uncles, when I was dealt a split hand. The book on this hand says that I should split. My uncles thought this was a bad idea – it was too risky. I had a heavy bet on the table. 100. They kept urging me not to split. I kept telling them that I had to play the book, that’s the way I always played. They nagged me, they annoyed me, they made me angry – they kept interfering with my hand. I told them all to go F themselves and split either way. I was dealt the same card again. I split again. I was dealt three shitty hands – I didn’t care if I won or lost though. Before the trip, I decided on my blackjack strategy. I was going to stick to it. In the end, the dealer busted. I took my winnings and went to the beach.
As for my Dad and my uncles, I still love them. We had a small talk afterword– I told them that they needed to leave me to play my own hand and that I think they play to much with emotion, not enough by the book. I hope that they won’t and doubt that they will interfere with my hand in the future.
On a side note, my betting strategy worked. I left Tahoe up, which really doesn’t matter because no matter what you do, in the long run, if you keep playing blackjack you’re going to lose, unless, that is you’re counting cards. I’m not counting. I guess the most redeeming thing was later that night, one of the dealers, told me that I was the best blackjack player in the casino. Obviously doesn’t mean much, because again, blackjack is a sucker’s game, but it was a nice feeling.
