of craps deities, they
rate under the foot of the offal digger. So at least
they know their place. But the other night at Wild
Wild West Casino in Atlantic City I experienced
one of the most sublime, beautiful, thrilling, funny,
wonderful and amazing spectacles – a don’t
player getting his…and getting his with a vengeance.
Let me set the stage.
The table was cold to cool; that meant most of the
shooters were sevening out before the 5-Count. (For
those who don’t know what the 5-Count is, it
is the Captain’s method for selecting which
shooters to bet on.) So these shooters weren’t
hurting me. However, enough shooters, myself included,
had sevened out just after the 5-Count that I was
losing money and, naturally, I was not happy.
And then there was
this don’t bettor. He was about my age, around
55 or so, thin; looked like a left-over from the
radical 60s, although he was clean shaven. He had
some kind of fishermen’s cap or painter’s
cap pulled down low over his forehead. His graying
hair came down on either side of his cap. He was
wearing a green army jacket, baggy army pants, and
he was betting $50 on the Don’t Pass with each
and every shooter. And he was cleaning up. He had
this little permanent sneer, as if he were saying:
“Look at you, you fools, playing the right
side and look at me, you fools, and how much I’m
making. You are all fools.” Sneer.
Now, many of you “don’t
players” don’t realize that we “do
players” are acutely aware of your presence
at our tables – just as we are aware of a mote
in our eyes. Don’t players are that irritating
and this guy was irritating me and irritating the
guy next to me, a young fellow who had been taking
a shellacking.
And now the dice were
being passed to the don’t player.
Usually don’t players aren’t arrogant
enough to pick up the dice and shoot, but rather
they pass the dice on to the next right player while
hoping their wicked hopes and dreaming their deadly
dreams. Not this guy. He picked up the dice, looked
right (he was on stick right so he was looking away
from where he was shooting the dice) and he flung
them with disdain.
“Seven! Winner seven! Pay the line, take the
don’ts.”
“I hope he keeps this up,” I said to the
kid next to me.
“Yeah,” he said. “I hope he kills
himself.”
The don’t
player was passed the dice again and this time he
rolled a 4. He looked at the rest of us at the table
and put $200 in odds on his 4. The only time he
took odds was if the point were 4 or 10 – the
longest shots at the table when it comes to point
numbers. So he was a two-to-one favorite to hit
a 7 before a 4.
He looked away and disdainfully flung the dice.
“Four, winner four! Pay the do’s, take
the don’ts!”
“Yahoo!” yelled the kid next to me.
The don’t player just kept that sneer on his
craggy face. He put out another $50 Don’t Pass
bet.
“Winner eleven! Yoooooo-eleven!”
“Yahoo!” yelled the kid.
He flung the dice again.
“Seven, winner seven!”
“Yahoo!”
“Oh, God, let this last forever!” I said
to the kid.
“This is great,” he said to me. Then to
the shooter: “Keep up the good shooting!”
The don’t bettor’s jaw started to twitch.
He was grinding his teeth.
He flung the dice down the table, sneering, not
looking.
“Nine, nina, nine is the point!”
The don’t bettor didn’t lay odds on his
nine. He flung the dice.
“Nine! Nina! Nina! Winner! Nine! Pay the do’s,
take the don’ts.”
“Yahoo! A nine!”
For a half hour this
don’t player stubbornly, persistently, dog-headedly
– gloriously -- made those $50 Don’t Pass
bets and hit sevens and elevens on his come-out
rolls or, when he established a point, he made the
point! Players were cheering wildly – lead
by the kid next to me. “Yahoooo! Keep up that
hot hand, shooter!”
At the half hour mark,
with the table hooting, jeering, sneering and cheering,
with chip racks filled to overflowing, the don’t
bettor looked at the table layout with a dead look
on his face. He was busted, broke; he didn’t
have a single chip left! He stormed off. “Wait!
Wait!” yelled the kid. “Come back! You
didn’t finish your roll!” One old guy
cackled loudly: “I’ll put up a bet for
you so you can keep shooting!” Whether the
don’t player heard this, I don’t know;
but I do know, he had one heavenly roll – and
he was damned because of it. Yahoooo!
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