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How to Stack a Deck

by Sam Case

(From Blackjack Forum Vol. III #1, March 1983)
© 1983 Blackjack Forum

Stacking a deck requires two stages — location and placement. Location is just finding the cards, placement is putting them where you want them in the stacked deck. Whenever the exact order of the deck is prearranged, the location step can be omitted. One example of a prearranged deck is a fresh one.

All players know that a deck comes in a standard order. From the front to the back, according to suit, they read A to K, A to K, then K to A, K to A. Many players know that the center clump, which consists of 8 tens, can be shuffled to the bottom, and kept out of play (see the last issue of Blackjack Forum). Few players realize that a dealer starting with a fresh deck could stack himself a blackjack on the first round, even with his eyes closed.

Try this yourself. Get a deck in it’s new order. You will need that ace that’s sitting on top and the clump of tens in the center. Cut the top half of the deck to the right. Be sure to cut near the center so you are left with a paint (face card) on the left hand half.

We’ll set up a dealer blackjack against a head-on player. Riffle shuffle the cards together evenly, except make sure that the top card from the right hand packet falls directly under the last card from the left.

Square up the deck. Now we have a ten on top, an ace under it, then the rest of the deck.

Now shuffle as I described last time to preserve the top two cards of the stack, since most dealers do three riffles and only two are needed to do the dirty work. This is basically a “stalling” shuffle.

Now it’s stack time. Cut the top half to the right, and riffle evenly except hold back the top three cards on the left side, and the top two on the right. Do this slowly and carefully. Drop one from the right, one from the left, the last from the right, and finally the last two from the left. (Forget the cut for now.)

Square up, burn a card, and deal to an imaginary player. Shame on you! By hiding your ace you didn’t even give the player a chance to insure!

If there had been seven people at the table, the shuffle would be similar. The first two shuffles would be the same. On the third shuffle, hold back fifteen instead of three cards. Drop one from the right, seven from the left, one from the right, then eight from the left. Deal out the deck to a full table, and you still have your blackjack. This would take a more skilled cheat.

You may be wondering what would happen if a player joined the table after the dealer had stacked the deck. Well, using the old standby, the second deal, the hand can be saved.

Now, what about the next shuffle? Well, the dealer would scoop up the cards carefully, making sure that the blackjack goes just under the burn card. He would first bring the blackjack to the top in the first two shuffles, then stack on the third. Thus, he could keep getting the same blackjack over and over.

Often, if you’re being cheated by a dealer who keeps getting first round blackjacks, this is what is happening. Until you catch on, it will seem as if lady luck is out to lunch and it will cost you time and money. You could spot this quickly if you remember the Sam Case First-Round Blackjack Rule: Any time a dealer gets a first round blackjack, memorize the suits of the ace and the ten. Walk if the dealer gets that pair again.

Getting back to the cut, which is supposed to be your insurance against a stacked deck, a good cheat can nullify your cut, but this will have to be covered in detail in a future article. For the simplest method of nullifying a cut see my article on “Crimps” in Blackjack Forum Vol. II #3.

While I’m on the subject of memorizing an occasional card or two, I’ll let you know the simplest method to prevent a dealer from pulling a turn-over on you. That’s when you’re playing, and during the first half of the deck you’ve seen a pile of low cards. You push out a big bet, but as soon as you glance away the dealer flips the deck over.

You start playing against those discards — the same low cards that already brought you so much grief. You’re at a big disadvantage, but continue to bet more and more since your count keeps climbing higher. Very bad. But suppose you took the trouble to memorize just one card on every round. If one of those cards flips out a second time before a shuffle, you’ll know it and save yourself some money. If you don’t trust your card memory, try reading “Perfecting Your Card Memory”, available from the Gambler’s Book Club.

Final words: Be very suspicious of a dealer who watches his hands while shuffling. There’s no reason for that. Touch is enough. A dealer who watches the shuffle is probably either a rookie or a cheat. Experienced, honest dealers usually spend their shuffling time making eye contact with customers to encourage tips. That’s the way it should be. ♠

Dangerous Shoes: Casino Cheating at Blackjack

by Steve Forte

(From Blackjack Forum Vol. XI #1, March 1991)
© 1991 Blackjack Forum

Over the years, between letters, phone calls and personal meetings, I’ve talked with hundreds of concerned players who suspect they were cheated in card, dice and gambling games of all kinds. When the game is blackjack, one of the most commonly asked questions is: “Can I be cheated when the cards are dealt from a shoe?” As you may suspect, the answer is a definite yes. What you may not suspect is that you can be cheated easier and more deceptively in shoe games than in games where cards are dealt from the hand.

One reason shoe games can be so dangerous is that everyone knows you can be cheated in hand held games, and bad luck naturally invites suspicion. You also have many players who believe you can’t be cheated in shoe games. With such a false sense of security, these players could lose entire bankrolls against some of the following techniques, and never suspect foul play.

Most of what you are about to read has never been “tipped” in print. There are many ways to cheat players in shoe games, many more than most players would ever imagine. They range from rank moves like the “Selective Upcard,” a technique discussed in the December 1988 issue of Blackjack Forum (p. 8) to the sophisticated “Set Up Games” where the dealer, boss and players all work together to “take off” (cheat) one or more players.

This article addresses three of the most common methods of cheating players with a shoe. They are the “Short Shoe,” “The Anchor,” and “Crooked Dealing Shoes.” Although these techniques are somewhat known, I think you’ll see that a little knowledge can sometimes be a liability!

Cheating at Blackjack: Short Shoes

Removing high cards from the shoe is the easiest way to cheat players at a multi-deck blackjack game and requires no skill or brains. Removing 8-10 ten-valued cards and 2-4 aces from a four-deck shoe before the game starts will effectively increase an operator’s advantage. If you are consistently left hanging with a positive count at the cut card, you may be bucking a short shoe.

The following story shows one way to “short” shoes after the game starts out on the square.

I know a winning player who frequented this private game. The operator dealt three out of four decks with Vegas rules. The player was hip to the short shoe so he insisted that whenever he played, four new decks were opened and spread face up for inspection.

The player always played two hands and generally played alone. The game was dealt under the guise of a challenge proposition. The operators boasted that no one could beat the 4-deck shoe with a card counting strategy. They actually knew better, but this was all part of the hustle.

The ploy was simple. The dealer simply waited until a rich round showed up (i.e. two twenties and a blackjack). The complete round would be picked up, apparently placed into the discard rack, but actually “held out” (palmed). The dealer would reach under the table for a tissue, and during this action would drop the cards into the waste basket. The dealer would then wipe his glasses and throw the tissue away, conveniently on top of the trashed cards.

The move would be repeated once again, and in no time at all the deck would be significantly short. Since the player was put to sleep with the initial inspection of the cards, he never caught on. If the player woke up and demanded a count down, you can bet that all four decks would have accidentally been spilled all over the table and the floor, and, of course, some cards would have ended up in the trash can.

There are also ways to short shoes without actually removing cards. There have been some sophisticated shuffling procedures designed to “slug” or keep groups of high cards together. These slugs are then cut out of play by an accomplice posing as a player, or the dealer just gambles with a legitimate player cut. This turns out to be no gamble at all as some rules allow no less than one deck to be cut from either top or bottom. [Note from Arnold Snyder: For an example of this kind of cheating, see Stickin’ It to the Safari Club.]

Even without this rule, influencing the cut is not a problem. Some players always cut deep, some thin, some always cut center. The dealer just picks his spots. A hustler once told me, “When I need a center cut to hit a brief (crimp) or cut a slug out of play, I give the deck to the player paying the least attention to the game. When I catch them off guard they cut center about 8 or 9 times out of 10.”

[Note from Arnold Snyder: Since the writing of this article, I have encountered short shoes in two Las Vegas casinos. If you see high counts shoe after shoe but the high cards never come out, don’t imagine that a short shoe is impossible, even in a casino on the Las Vegas Strip.]

The Anchor–Another Method of Cheating at Blackjack

The “anchor” was a ploy developed quite some time ago. It was used in single-deck games as a subtle substitute for the second deal.

The “anchor man” would sit on third base. He would receive signals from the dealer to hit or stand depending on the top card and the dealer’s total. This information was obtained through the use of marked cards or various peeking techniques.

If the top card would bust the dealer, the anchor would be signaled to hit; if the top card would help the dealer, he would be signaled to stand. Sometimes the anchor would even hit a three or four card standing hand. When the hand eventually busted, the cards would be picked up quickly, making it difficult for anyone to spot the unusual play.

Anchors allow all cards to be dealt slowly and cleanly, which naturally puts all players at ease. A “double anchor” is also sometimes employed, using two players to help take off cards for the dealer. Needless to say, either way the frequency of dealer busts decreases dramatically.

The “anchor” and “double anchor” can and have been used in shoe games. Typically sand, trims, blockout or any type of marked cards that can easily be read across the table are used. The shoe is legitimate, and although the cards are marked, these games are always dealt face up making it impossible for anyone to “burn” (watch closely) the back of any card for any length of time. With the cards dealt face up, some discretion must be used by the anchors in their playing decisions.

One variation, known as the “early anchor,” is subtle, and designed to take dead aim at an individual player. Instead of playing third base, the anchor sits immediately before the targeted player. His goal is to take off good double down cards and put the targeted player on as many stiffs as possible.

For example, the dealer shows a ten, the anchor has 13 and the targeted player has a total of nine. If the top card is read (remember the cards are marked) to be a 4, 5 or 6, the anchor stands. The player, after hitting once, will be stiff against a dealer ten, not a lucrative situation.

Or, the player may have nine, ten or eleven vs. a dealer low card, and is obviously going to double down. If the top card is read to be ten valued, the early anchor will hit almost any hand, taking off at least one winning card from the player. This can be very frustrating. The early anchor often plays two hands, allowing the greatest chance to alter the hit card distribution favorably for the dealer, or unfavorably, if you happen to be the targeted player.

Crooked Dealing Shoes at Blackjack

There are a number of crooked dealing shoes in existence today. The most common is the “Prism and Second Dealing Shoe.” The prism is the peeking gaff that allows the dealer to see an image of the top card. It is a semi-transparent solid piece of plastic that works a bit like a periscope. It hides behind the upper part of the face plate (front of the shoe) and to the uninformed simply appears to be part of the plastic casing. When the top card is pushed back slightly, it gets wedged between the prism and face plate. In this position not only can the top card be peeked but the second card can be dealt.

It’s ironic, but when dealing shoes first became popular many players thought that blackjack’s two most dangerous cheaters’ moves, the peek and the second deal, would finally be eliminated. What really happened is that the second deal, a prized gambler’s move taking hundreds of hours of practice to master, became easier to deal and more deceptive to boot. And the peek became automatic and almost foolproof without any of the unnatural moves that tip off handheld peeks.

In many ways, crooked dealing shoes became more dangerous to players’ bankrolls than skilled card mechanics. Gaffed shoes are sold in various parts of the country, usually costing from $1200-$1500. They are frequently sold with a “front” (legitimate dealing shoe that perfectly matches the gaffed shoe) for an additional $100. Most of these shoes come with various locking mechanisms. With the shoe “locked up,” second dealing and peeking become impossible and the shoe could be safely passed out for inspection.

An inferior variation of this shoe has the prism replaced by a “shiner” (mirror). Each time the top card is pushed back into the second dealing position a small mirror mechanically pops out from behind the face plate to peek the top card.

The most sophisticated “Peek” and “Two Shoe” I ever saw was made of a black shiny plastic. There were no extra or moving parts, just a front, back, two sides and the bottom. The optics necessary to peek the top card were molded right into the face plate. In peek position only 1/8 of the card’s index was readable. This means you could be standing on top of the dealer and probably never suspect the peek.

The decks had to be aggressively shuffled, putting a natural wave in all cards. This allowed each top card to hug the plastic and contact the optical part of the face plate. To deal this shoe expertly required tremendous practice, and you couldn’t buy the shoe for less than $10,000. I mention this particular shoe only to show how much thought and energy can go into perfecting these gaffs.

When you remove the prism or peeking mechanism from one of these gaffed shoes, you end up with a plastic box that really looks like a legitimate, ungaffed shoe from all angles. The only visible discrepancy is the slightly longer face plate which goes unnoticed by all except those in the know. This extra room allows the top card to be pushed back for the second deal. Since a second dealing shoe is of no value unless the top card is known, other means must be used to get this information.

I know of spots where they deal “rough and smooth” from these shoes. Rough and smooth are marked cards that can be distinguished by feel alone. Some card manufacturers use more than one finish on the same back design. The high cards (9-A’s) are taken from decks with a rough and grainy finish, while the low cards (2-8’s) are taken from the smooth finished backs, and both are sorted together to make complete four-deck shoes.

With the dealer’s left hand resting naturally on the shoe and top card, the different back finishes are easily discernible. The dealer can now read every card without any unnatural moves, and use the second deal when needed to go for the money. If you happen to be in this game looking for the prism or watching the dealer’s eyes, trying to detect him glancing in the shoe’s direction for the peek, you would have to wait a long time.

In closing, let me point out that some of the techniques discussed can also be found in multi-deck games where the shoe is not used. Dealing the cards from a spread on the table is a very common practice in private games.

Secondly, if you do happen to run into one of these techniques, use your head, dummy up, and find another game. In some spots, if you let your suspicions be heard, you can expect to be escorted to the street. Hopefully, there will be no traffic at the time.

Finally, we’ve only touched a few bases. There are a number of other ways you can be cheated in shoe games. There are also other variations on the short shoe and the anchor. I’ve simply described the most common techniques. Hopefully this information will be worth something to you in dollars and cents, somewhere down the road. ♠

Learn the Optimal Strategies for Free Play Bonuses at Online Casinos

by the Editors at Blackjack Forum
© 2006 Blackjack Forum Online

At the time this article was written, Mummy’s Gold online casino was offering players a $500 free roll. The deal was: Play for an hour on the house on $500 free (no deposit required) and your winnings up to $100 become your bonus for a $20 deposit.

Crazy Vegas and Golden Riviera were giving away $75 free to play on with no deposit required from the player at any time. The deal was: Transfer your winnings up to $75 to a real account and play on them, and your winnings were yours to keep.

7 Sultans online casino was offering players $50 free, with no deposit required at any time, with any winnings up to $100 becoming a no-deposit bonus.

Casino Classic was offering $500 free to play on for an hour, with your winnings up to $200 becoming a bonus for a small deposit, and Captain Cook’s was offering exactly the same free play deal.

Blackjack Ballroom was also offering players $500 free to play on for an hour, with your winnings up to $200 becoming your bonus for a $20 deposit.

At Royal Vegas, new players could try out the casino with free slot spins with their winnings becoming a bonus, while at Fortune Room you could get $100 free to play on, no deposit required, to earn a bonus up to $500 for a $50 deposit.

Lucky Emperor, Virtual City and Zodiac Casino were all giving away $10 in free bonus play money, no deposit required.

Plus, all of these online casinos (and many others) regularly put free gambling money (from a few dollars up to hundreds and even thousands of dollars) into the accounts of their loyal customers—again, no deposit required.

To many players, these small free bonus offers may not look all that valuable. You can’t even pay your monthly light bill with $10 these days. But what you have to remember is, these free play bonuses give a lot of gambling power. How much gambling power?

Online Players Win Thousands Playing on Free Play Money

Players at Blackjack Forum Online have scored big on small online casino free money offers many, many times. For example, when Golden Palace gave a player $16 free about a year ago, he bet the entire amount on one spin of the 8-line Gold Rally slot, and immediately hit a bonus round that paid him $900!

Another player at Blackjack Forum Online played $2 coin on single-line Jacks or Better video poker with his $10 free at Lucky Emperor. She got a pair of Jacks on the first deal, and using the double-or-nothing feature, doubled her payout four times, to $160. Now she figured she had some money to play on.

A few hands later, she hit a royal, for a payout of $8000! But it didn’t stop there. The $10 free had a small wagering requirement before this player could cash out, and while playing off this wagering requirement she hit 4-of-a-kind—not once, but twice—for another $500! She ended up cashing out just under $8500 on $10 free, without ever depositing a penny herself.

Another player at Blackjack Forum Online had good luck on the Royal Vegas free spins offer. After hitting some good payouts on Lara Croft, Tombraider, he had won a little over $100 that he could transfer as a bonus to a real account.

There, he chose to play Secret Admirer, betting all nine lines for $45 a spin, and on his second spin got a $30 payout. He gambled it on the double-or-nothing feature three times to turn it into a payout of $240.

He hit nothing on the next few spins, and only small returns on the ones after that. But when he was down to his last $45 spin, he hit three Diamond Rings in a row, and before he’d even realized what was happening was launched into Free Spins that made him over $4500!

“It was the first time I’d ever played slots,” this player said.

Another player at Blackjack Forum Online ran up the first big gambling win of his life at Casino Classic, on the casino’s “play free for an hour on $500” deal.

“For me, it was just a lark,” he said. “I figured, what could I lose? I had some time to kill and ran up the $500 to $1000 just trying out various slots, then transferred the max [editor’s note: $200] to a real account. Then I played Thunderstruck, and hit some kind of jackpot. At first, I didn’t even know I hit it, because I never hit a jackpot before. I was just sitting there and staring. Suddenly there was all this money in my account.

“After I won, I didn’t really expect to get paid all this money. This was an online casino, and I’d never even put in a dime. But you know what, they did pay me—every penny, and with no trouble at all. There I was, just fooling around, and suddenly I was $1900 richer.”

Free Play Bonuses are Great Deals and Easy to Play

The requirements attached to most online casino free money offers are minor. Some casinos (but not all) require that you download the casino software. (Don’t worry, this is easy to do, and the software is easy to uninstall if you don’t want it later. To uninstall, just highlight the casino in the list of programs on your computer, found by clicking your “Start” button, and click “Uninstall”.)

Most online casinos require you to give some wagering on your free money winnings. And many require you to make a small deposit (typically $20) before transferring or withdrawing your winnings (there will usually be no requirement to wager this small deposit).

Some online casinos, like Casino Classic and Mummy’s Gold, treat your free money winnings as a bonus. In this case, you must complete a wagering requirement on the bonus to withdraw it, but you may withdraw your deposit and any winnings on the bonus at any time.

The purpose of these requirements is to direct the free money, which has a lot of potential value, to players who might truly be interested in becoming a long-term customer.

Winning Strategies for Playing on Free Money Bonuses

So, what’s the best way to give yourself a good shot at big money on a small free money bonus? The answer is two-part. The first part is to play with aggression. Remember, it’s hard to win big if you’re betting only a penny a spin on slots, or a dollar a hand at blackjack.

The second is to play a game that offers big payouts for small bets, like slots or video poker. Don’t play a game like blackjack, where if you bet $10 you win $10 (or at most, $15, if you get a natural). You would have to make too many bets, and have too long a run of luck, on an even-money payout game to ever get close to big money. On slots, video poker, or roulette (where a lucky hit straight up on a number pays 35:1) you only need to get lucky once to make a good score.

Just be sure not to bet too aggressively for the particular free money bonus. When your win amount is unlimited, you should play as aggressively as possible. But what’s the use of hitting a royal that pays thousands when your maximum win is $100? Adjust your aggression for your goal.

So don’t ignore those baby bonuses—whether they’re free gambling money offers designed to entice you to try an online casino for the first time, or one of those free play bonus gifts online casinos give to loyal players. These small free money bonuses are great deals for players. Almost every player we know who has given them a chance has won big on at least one, and some professional gamblers have actually launched their gambling careers with free money wins. Give yourself a chance to get lucky. ♠

A Funny Thing Happened on My Way to the Forum

By James Grosjean

(From Blackjack Forum Volume XXI #1, Spring 2001)
© 2001 Blackjack Forum

[Ed. Note: Last year, when I published James Grosjean’s first book, Beyond Counting, I wished that I could tell you the story that follows. I couldn’t. In fact, I only knew a small portion of what had happened when this casino surveillance department, to harrass two professional gamblers for a win, falsely accused them of cheating on a game. Now, James relates the whole story. — Arnold Snyder]

[Follow-up note from A.S.–Since this article was first published, James Grosjean has been voted into the Blackjack Hall of Fame. He is the author of Beyond Counting, one of the great works on professional gambling.]

Easter 2000

“Brighter days are ahead, young man.” What nerve he had trying to cheer me up. He was the one who had already missed one insulin shot because of the apathy of the jail guards, and no remedy was in sight. I smiled. He had caught me in a down moment, but of course he was right. And, I couldn’t help but be pleased that he had called me “young man.” I guess it’s all relative; he was quite old.

At that moment, I was bored more than anything else. It was Easter Sunday, there was nothing to watch on TV, no one to talk to, nothing to talk about, because I was sitting in a “holding tank” at the Clark County Detention Center. My “crime”? I am a professional gambler who is good at a card game. Very good.

Money Eyes

That Friday morning started like every other day that week: Wake up on the couch at Mike’s place and get ready for the Vegas heat. The addictions kick in right away: Mike always wants to swing by Starbucks first, I want to hit the games first. We strike our usual compromise. I’ll check one or two particular games high on my list, and if they aren’t immediately available, then we’ll go grab some coffee.

Checking on a particular game is in fact the only reason I am still in Vegas. I was scheduled to leave four days ago, but after my ex-partner Fredo betrayed me to a bunch of Vegas hustlers, I am hanging around town monitoring things, verifying the extent of the damage, but that’s another story (“The $80,000 Game”). Though my ex-partner already broke our deal, I am still keeping my word to not divulge that game, not even to Mike, with whom I’ve been staying all week. So, Mike and I hit the Strip a bit before noon, and I tell Mike that I’ll check on a few games and meet him at Caesars in about ten minutes.

Not much is happening at Caesars. Mike is checking out a game. It looks beatable, maybe an edge around 3%–6%. Perhaps it isn’t worth the exposure, but if we can pop it for $500–$1000, I could afford a muffin with my latte, so we decide to experiment a few hands. I sit in one seat, then another, with Mike playing here, then there. The dealer is definitely flashing, but she is a bit inconsistent, and I don’t want the frustration. Surely there are better games out there.

We are about to leave, when we see a new dealer come to the table. She watches for about 15 minutes, learning the game for the first time. We’re willing to teach her a few things. Then, to our amazement, she says this will be her table for the day, until 7 p.m. Where I’m from, a dealer would receive instruction away from the table, then watch an experienced dealer for a while, then deal for a few hours with an experienced dealer shadowing, and only then would the dealer be “signed off,” if competence has been demonstrated. Could Caesars be so arrogant to think that they could just tell a dealer the rules of a game for 15 minutes and then assign her the table?

After only a few hands, we know that our new dealer Steph is a “superstar,” so we start right in: “So, Steph, how long you been dealin’?” “What other games do you deal, Steph?” “Is today your Friday, Steph?” “Steph, would you mind filling out a questionnaire so that we can add you to our files. Please attach a passport-size photo, too.” It is going to be a good Friday.

In terms of the numbers, the SCORE of this game is around $5000. We are underbetting, though, because we are afraid that Caesars might not be able to stomach the action. We don’t want them to banish Steph to the roulette wheel, or worse, kick us out. Mike has been half-joking about wanting to win enough this week to buy a boat, so he is betting around $400 per hand. I am betting less, about $300 per hand; I want that muffin with my latte.

Steph says that she has been dealing ten years. Really, it’s more like a week, 500 times. Apparently no one has ever shown her how to hand-deal a game. Or perhaps she underestimates the training of our eyes. She isn’t giving it up too blatantly, just a bit off in the angle of her wrist when she snaps her hole cards. Not much, really just enough to give us a 35% edge.

After a couple of hours, I am getting quite used to the speed, the angle, the lighting, the design of these cards. I am very pleased with my play. I have made some gutsy calls, and though my chip pile is only treading water, my eyes are on the money. Beating the card game is always the easy part.

On the dead roulette game behind us, there is a nosy dealer who keeps trying to see our cards. If we had a third teammate, we’d send him to play roulette. It’s important to turn observers. This dealer is nosy to the point of being rude, and is costing the crew some tips, at least from me.

At around 4 o’clock, after three hours of play, Mike and I are ahead $18000, right at expectation. I am up only $800 of that, and we are not splitting, but I have enough for my muffin. I turn to Mike and whisper, “Now the question is: At what point do we leave?” Mike answers, “At 7 o’clock? What are you talking about? Where are you gonna find a game as good as this?!” That isn’t the point, but our decision is made for us about 15 minutes later.

The Tap

With no prior warning or indication of heat, we suddenly get the tap on the shoulder. We are told to step away from the table. We are the only ones playing (probably why the tap came at this moment), and we know we’ll be barred, so without much more than a “Sure, what’s the problem?” we step back and stand there, surrounded by three security guards. Our chips are still sitting on the table, and I’m relieved when they say we can take our chips, an indication that they are going to bar us, but that that will be the end of it. We put the chips in our pockets, and then continue to stand there. And stand there. For twenty minutes we stand there by the table, as security waits for instructions. In the distance there are suits on phones, and it sounds like Gaming Control agents are already on the premises, and have been here for an hour or so watching us play.

We have dealt with incompetent Gaming Control agents before, but in the end, they will have to concede that we have beaten the game legally, and we’ll be out of here, off to laugh about it over coffee. The guards will not answer any of our inquiries about what is going on, and why it is taking so long. They say only, “Thank you for your patience.” In the past, I have recommended that players in similar situations proceed to the exit with cautious confidence. In general, that’s still my advice, but I also always say that each situation is unique, and the player’s response must weigh all factors carefully, and quickly. Here, Mike and I consider it, but agree that there is no chance we could leave. The exit is far away, and we are surrounded by guards. There is no doubt in my mind that any move to the exit would be denied by the Caesars grunts, and the situation would escalate. Worse, the guards would then claim that we “tried to escape” or “created a public disturbance,” or some nonsense. It is clear: we have to stay cool, be sharp, and hope that the Gaming Control agents are not complete morons.

After twenty minutes of staying cool and being sharp, a suit comes over and asks for our names and birth dates. He is apparently a Caesars person; we have no obligation to tell him anything. I hope Mike realizes this, and, true to form, Mike fires off an alias right away, and the guy writes it down. Then I give an alias: “Jack Pozzi, 7/6/51.” Having given names, I’m expecting the guy to read us the Trespass Act and then kick us out. Then the unthinkable happens. The suit announces, “I’m taking you into custody for cheating,” and with that we are handcuffed and led through the casino to a back door.

I have been interrogated once before in my career, surrounded by security and threatened with handcuffs on another occasion, and chased on many other occasions, but the outcome was always just another story for a cocktail party. Nothing like this has ever happened to Mike or me.

While the incompetence of Caesars and Gaming Control cannot be overstated, I don’t understand how they could believe that we were cheating. I think that the more likely causes are envy, malice, and the libelous records of the Griffin Detective Agency regarding Mike. As we are led through the casino, past the gawking eyes of civilians, I am furious, stunned, and a bit nervous. It is comforting to have a partner, the truth, and the law on my side.

The Back Room

We are led into a small room with a desk and a bench. The bench has a metal bar on each end, perfect for handcuffing two prisoners. On the wall are two signs quoting the Nevada Revised Statutes supposedly giving them the right to imprison legal players. (For those of you who are not lawyers, I’ll translate: In the interpretation of Caesars and Gaming Control, if you win a lot of money, they have “probable cause” to arrest you for cheating.) On another wall, facing the bench, is a camera with a sign saying that the room could be recorded by both visual and audio equipment. Sitting on the desk is their in-house still camera. Only a few months ago, a card counter was handcuffed at Caesars. I wonder if he was brought to this same room.

After a moment, guards and suits come, and each of us is searched, and all of our stuff is placed on the desk. It’s a hole-card player’s toolkit: $23000 cash, $80000 chips, 30 player’s cards under different names, 2 baseball caps, 2 pairs of sunglasses, and a bottle of eye drops. They don’t seem surprised that there are no illegal devices in our possession. They are going to have to think for a while longer on what they can fabricate in the way of “probable cause.”

The suits go away, and we are left handcuffed to the bench, guarded by one or two uniforms at all times. As the minutes tick by, I keep my eyes glued to that desk. The guards can’t stop ogling the heap of money and chips, and they all joke, “We should go playing with you guys sometime.” Yeah, right.

At one point, Cod, a guy whom we had not seen previously, comes storming into the room, walks straight up to Mike’s face and yells, “Lemme see your hands, front and back! I’m the guy who’s going to take you to jail!” Mike shows the guy his hands, and the guy yells, “Both sides!” [Uh, hello, dude, Mike just showed you both sides and you were too busy gloating to look.] What is curious about the moment is that the guy is yelling in Mike’s face, even though we have been calmly sitting there handcuffed the whole time. It is disturbing to see how gleeful the guy is about the prospect of taking Mike to jail, and more worrisome that he announced with conviction that he will take Mike to jail, even though the body search turned up nothing, and we have not yet been questioned by anyone. The most curious thing is that the guy leaves the room without saying anything to me, or even acknowledging me. He clearly has a burning desire to hurt Mike. The guy probably has determined that Mike is the “big” player. His envy is showing. He is just a small Gaming Control agent who naively equates sadism with power.

Mike, though, is weakening. He looks depressed, and is hanging his head part of the time, and then getting chatty with the guards, telling them he’s a professional player, and so on. At one point, he even mentions my book [Beyond Counting, RGE, 2000], and I have to hush him and hope the guards didn’t notice. This is not yet the moment to divulge information, and the guards are just peons anyway. I want him to keep his mouth shut, or talk about the weather, and help me keep an eye on our stuff. Unfortunately, being handcuffed on opposite sides of the bench, and probably being recorded by both video and audio, I am having difficulty communicating with Mike.

It is not clear what is going on, but we surmise that Caesars and Gaming Control are reviewing videotape of our play. At about 6:10 p.m., I look over at Mike, and we decide that having been handcuffed for an hour and a half, and with Caesars and Gaming Control apparently still unable to figure out anything, the quickest way out of there is to tell them how we beat the game. Hole-card play is legal, after all.

When the head of Caesars security comes in the room, Mike just lays it out for the guy, explaining that we were playing a break-in dealer who was poorly trained. I give the executive summary: “If you’re playing a card game, and you know your opponent’s cards, you’re going to win. It’s totally legal.” The other guards nod and agree that if the dealer isn’t doing the job right, it isn’t our responsibility to fix it, and why shouldn’t we take advantage? The security chief just says, “That’s very interesting,” and leaves the room.

Now that they know how we beat the game, it shouldn’t be long before we get out of here, and I’m hankering for coffee and a muffin. It’s almost dinnertime, after all.

“Good Cop, Bad Cop”

At about 6:30 p.m., the agents come in and say that they want to question us, me first. They uncuff me and lead me into an office, where GCB agent Duck sits at the desk, Cod stands on the side, and a Caesars uniform stands in the corner. I am glad she is here, because she is the one person who seems to have a shred of integrity. They Mirandize me and say that I don’t have to talk to them, but it is quite clear to me that if I do not talk to them, they will just throw me in jail. At this point, I’m still thinking that cooperation will lead to their grudging admission that while we are not desirable Caesars patrons (i.e., we are not losers), we were playing legally. Since these are actually “officers of the law,” I agree to talk to them, triggering a “Good Cop, Bad Cop” shtick that makes Laurel and Hardy look like Shakespearian thespians.

First, the harassment begins over my identity, since I am not carrying ID. In the back room, I already gave my real name and Social Security number, but Bad Cop isn’t satisfied: “How tall do you say you are?” he asks, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “I don’t know, 5’ 10″? 5’ 11″? I got my driver’s license long ago, and I don’t know if the physical description is quite right.” Then he gets loud with me: “No! Here’s what I think: You’re not ‘James Grosjean.’ That’s just some guy you know.” Apparently, Bad Cop isn’t interested in the truth, but that’s all he’s going to get out of me: “Well, I am. I was a lot lighter then, too.”

Then, Bad Cop tries to get some dirt on me: “So where else [besides Caesars] have you played this week?” OK, the only point of this question is so he can call up those places and have me barred all around town, and get more videotape to figure out who my associates are, how we play, and so on. I tell him: “I don’t see how that’s productive,” and seeing Bad Cop’s head about to explode, I turn to “Good Cop,” who dismisses that line of questioning. Bad Cop asks: “What other games do you play?” I tell him that I play lots of games, anything with an edge. I try not to get specific. “Where did you stay last night?” Again, they’re looking to hang me at other places, but the truth hurts: “I slept on Mike’s couch.”

Having told them I’m a statistician, I start spouting numbers about hole-card theory. I’m giving the guy the statistical edge for this scenario, and that scenario. I don’t think Bad Cop has ever interrogated a statistician, and he’s getting frustrated. They’re not questioning my numbers, but they are obviously unsatisfied. Then I say, “Anyone sitting on the left half of the table could have seen those cards.” With that, Bad Cop triumphantly yells, “So you’re cheating, because you’re using information not available to everybody at the table!” By his interpretation of the law, a counter at third base, or even a BS player at third base, would be cheating, because he uses hit-card information that is not available to the first-base player. The guy is obviously not a legal scholar, nor am I, so I just say, “That’s not what the law means. The point is that I’m no special guy. Anyone could have sat down in that seat and seen this dealer’s cards. It’s totally legal. It’s described in the book, Blackjack and the Law, by Nelson Rose and Robert Loeb.”

Oh, boy, Bad Cop doesn’t want to hear citations: “Well that’s a book. You’re in the real world now!” I see, so in this “real world” of Gaming Control, the law isn’t relevant. He continues on this line of argument: “You’re going to put all this on a book?” and again he says the word “book” with utter disdain. “I have no choice. That’s how we were playing. I’m cooperating as much as I can.” With that, he again has the look of triumph: “Aha! You’re cooperating ‘as much as you can’.” Even when he twists my words, his argument is flaccid. After a bit of further frustration, he says, “I’m not talking to you anymore.” OK, now comes “Good Cop.”

“Well, I’ve looked at the cards, and the aces and tens are bent.” Ah, finally they have figured out something to fabricate, but duh, we weren’t playing blackjack. Why would a cheater bend the aces and tens? I again try to explain to him that with full hole-card information, bending the cards would be useless. He’s not disputing any of my hole-card information, but he’s sticking to his garbage: “Mike has a long history of [card bending].” With that, he shows me a libelous page from the Griffin book with Mike’s picture. Now I know that they really want to get Mike out of the game, and they don’t know what to make of me, and then “Good Cop” confirms that by saying: “We’ve never seen you before, and we’re surprised. You and Mike seem to be from two totally different worlds. How did you meet each other?” Without going into the long story, I just answer, “At the tables.”

So then “Good Cop” pretends to give me some “career advice”: “With your education, you’ve got a bright future ahead of you. If you go get a job, you could make $80000 a year.” I interrupt him by saying, “Actually, it would be more than that.” He continues: “But I can tell you this: if you’ve got a felony on your record, then you’re not going to get hired. They’re not going to say why; they just won’t hire you.” At this point, Bad Cop is still festering, and I’m starting to put “Good Cop” in the “Bad” category as well. He’s desperately trying to get me to roll on my partner, and he’s saying that the tape shows a “subtle move” by Mike where he could be bending the cards. He admits that the “move” is very subtle, which tells me that the tape shows the truth, that there’s absolutely nothing there. It was a hole-carding play, pure and simple. They don’t accuse me of making this “move,” but I think their strategy is to get me to somehow incriminate Mike, but I’ve already told him that I was not bending cards, Mike was not bending cards, and that our win was right at expectation given our edge from hole carding. Now Bad Cop wants to get back into it: “Get Russo in here! Keep ’em apart.”

So they lead me out of the room and make me stand facing the wall while Mike enters for his interrogation. Then they take me back to the back room, and recuff me. Not wanting to talk to the uniform about anything gaming related, I get him going on some macho stuff: tanks and military background. After a while, Mike returns, and we sit for a while. We’re worried. We don’t know if the whole “the cards are bent” is just a bluff to try to get us to accuse each other of things we didn’t do, or whether some Caesars or GCB guys actually tampered with the cards and bent them. It’s obvious that they hate Mike, but we’re still hoping that the truth will be enough to set us free.

After a few minutes, the badges come into the room, and the unthinkable happens: “We are going to arrest you for cheating and take you to the Clark County Detention Center.” Now that this announcement has been made, Bad Cop is on Cloud 9. He starts gleefully counting up the cash and chips again, now that they will be seized as evidence. After counting Mike’s money silently, with us watching along, he looks up and asks Mike, “Well, how much?” Then he looks and points over at me and says, “I know you know” [as if to say, “No help from the audience.”] Then he says he’s going to give us some advice, and it is: “When you get to CCDC, don’t let ’em know that you’re in there for a gaming offense.” “Good Cop” comments that we’d better keep our pants on real tight at CCDC.

The GCB agents are about to confiscate all of our cash and chips, and then they have a private word outside the room with a Caesars person, and then come back in and announce that they will confiscate only our cash, our Caesars chips, and our baseball caps. Our non-Caesars chips will go with us to the Card Counter Detention Center, where the Las Vegas Police Department will take custody.

Before leaving the Caesars back room, they use the in-house camera to take a front shot and profile shot (without our permission). It’s about 9:30 p.m. We’ve been held captive for about five hours already.

Friday Night at The Joint

Still handcuffed, we get into the GCB car and drive to CCDC, which is only a few blocks from the Fremont Street Experience. One at a time, we are processed by LVPD, who inventory all of our stuff and ask some basic questions. Meanwhile, Bad Cop is hamming it up with the LVPD, telling them that we were bending the Aces and Tens (BC: “That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it!”). I don’t trust these cops, and I’m keeping an eye on all my chips sitting on the table, and then the cop checks off the box on his form saying that my “Attention to officer” is “Poor”! Well, excuse me, having never been to jail before, I don’t know the drill, and the verbal instructions are mumbled and vague. Having been stripped of our watches, wallets, and other personal items, but still wearing our street clothes and shoes, we enter The Tank.

There are about 20 guys in the tank, which is a room with a dirty, concrete floor, a wooden bench around the perimeter, a toilet in the corner, a TV with a plexiglass shield, and three phones. The first thing I notice is that there are apparently people sleeping or hiding underneath the wooden benches along the wall. How pathetic, or so it seems. I don’t like the fact that one guy, who looks like a gangbanger, seems to be drooling over us, and I hear him mutter, “Look at the homies they just brought in here.”

Each of us received his “sheet” listing the charges, arresting officers, and so forth. Finally, we get to see the official charges: “Cheating at gambling,” and, since there are two of us, “Conspiracy to cheat.” Each is a felony charge with bail set at $3000, so we need to find someone with $12000 to get us out.

Our first priority is to get on a phone. One phone is apparently broken, and half the people in there are trying to use the remaining two. The phones are finicky. If all goes well, we get a dial tone, dial the number, wait as the number is processed, then hear the tones as the computer redials the number. If someone answers, a pre-recorded voice announces, “This call is coming from the Clark County Detention Center. To accept the call, press 1.” Often the phone doesn’t work, blasting static or computer gibberish, and we have to hang up and start over. It takes some time before we figure out all this, and we don’t want to display our ignorance by asking too many questions. What is clear is that the phone will not allow any long distance calls, 800 numbers, pager numbers, credit cards, or calling cards. Cell phones can sometimes be reached, but the software controlling the phones is apparently adaptive, because the same jail phone would subsequently reject calls to that cell number with a message: “The number you have dialed is blocked.” Basically, the only numbers we can call are local, Vegas home numbers.

That limits our options. The big stumbling block is that Mike, though he lives in Vegas, doesn’t know anyone’s home number. He has these numbers programmed into his cell phone, so he never dials them personally! There is one local number, though, that both of us know — our lawyer’s. He has done some civil work for us, and we could sure use him now. The problem: he went on vacation in Hawaii a few days ago. But, with only one number to call, we call it. We leave messages with his answering service. We try, then get back in the phone line to try again a few minutes later.

There is a list of bail bondsmen on the wall, but unless we can get someone on the outside to bring collateral, the bondsman isn’t going to put up the $6000 to get one of us out. If we could reach someone on the outside, we wouldn’t need the bail bondsman! By some miracle, on the nth try, our call is relayed through to our lawyer in Hawaii. I give him some long-distance numbers to call, and through the fraternity of skilled players, he arranges for a player to come down and post bail for Mike. The guy doesn’t have enough cash to get us both out, but if he gets Mike out, Mike can fetch some money to get me out. This guy and Mike had a falling out in the past, but in crunch time, the vile, illegal actions of the casino bring players together. I have no doubt he’ll bail out Mike, but how long will it take? It is about 3 a.m. Saturday. So much for a good Friday.

We try to nap a bit on the concrete floor. Additional arrestees have arrived, so the room is quite crowded. I try to stay away from the gangbanger, who keeps eyeing me hungrily. We don’t want to talk to anyone about our case; it is no one’s business. Contrary to popular belief, the first question isn’t, “What are you in for?” Here and there I gather that the guys are in here for various offenses — drugs, theft, driving-related crimes, and outstanding warrants in other jurisdictions — but for the most part, each guy is in his own hell, and doesn’t care about anyone else’s problems, so there isn’t much personal inquiry. New people arrive, some of whom have the same, age-old questions: “How do these phones work?” “How do you get bailed out?” “When do we get food?” Having been here a few hours already, we are no longer at the bottom of the totem pole, so we give some expert answers to the newbies.

After a few hours, we are called to be photoed and fingerprinted. The fingerprints, both ink and laser scan, will be sent to the FBI. They’ll check their files to try to identify yours truly, John Doe. I don’t think there are many professional card players running around in the FBI files, so I have no idea what will happen after the FBI check turns up nothing. Texas hold’em players wind up on ESPN, celebrated by the media, personally congratulated by old man Binion, anointed with titles and honors, and photographed with a $1 million cash prize. I get photographed with a number in front of my chest. The $800 I won was from Caesars.

Breakfast comes around 4:30 a.m., now Saturday morning. This is the first food we have had since Thursday night. Each of us receives a plastic tray with a carton of milk, some orange wedges, some eggs, and some waffles (I think) soaking in syrup. The oranges and milk are welcome, and I dare to eat the eggs, but the waffles? Yeah, right. Others immediately ask for my waffles, and there is much bartering of food — the prison economy begins.

When my name gets called out, I am not as excited as Mike was earlier, when we thought bail had been processed. Now I understand that I am in the pipeline, and it’s just my turn to see the jail nurse. As the only non-tattooed people in here, we don’t want to appear soft, so I like the fact that they call out my name as “John Doe.” I am the only John Doe in the tank. Don’t mess with me. The nurse asks about drug use, diseases, medications, and takes my blood pressure. The highest it’s been in my life. Correlation does not imply causality, but I suspect that jail has something to do with it.

As the morning wears on, I become annoyed that the TV is set to a channel that seemingly shows “Cops” several times a day, and some other “court” shows. Having witnessed the apathy of the LVPD, and the malicious incompetence of the G.C.B., I find it nauseating to be subjected to “Cops.” Mike is taking this hard, I think, so it is fortunate that his bail was posted, around 4 a.m. They tell us it could take 24 hours to process, but there is a certain relief in the inevitability of it, that in a day or less, he will be free.

At around 11:30 a.m., my name is called again. Now it is time for my ROR interview. As a John Doe, I can’t be released on my own recognizance, and this potential avenue of release (only three avenues — bail, own recognizance, and judge) will be terminated if bail is posted, which I expect to happen as soon as Mike gets out. Nevertheless, I let the clerk fill out the ROR interview form with names of friends who could vouch for me. I don’t name any family members, because I don’t want them to panic if they receive a call from the Clark County Detention Center. My friends will worry, but not panic. Though I don’t take the option, I think it is a good deal that you can list your wife to vouch for you. (I think that’s a good deal.)

As I am escorted back to the tank, I see a glorious sight — Mike is being escorted out. His bail has been processed and he is leaving! I give him last instructions to get my ID from his apartment and bring it to the jail. I am quite nervous about being left alone, but Mike can do more for me on the outside.

The Shower Room

I call Mike soon, and he has found my ID, but won’t be able to present it to the jailers until 3 p.m., Saturday afternoon, when the desk opens to outsiders. When he does so, they refuse my ID, saying that as a John Doe, they must wait until the FBI verifies my prints. Well, yeah, but that’s because most John Does don’t subsequently present their legal identification! But there is no point arguing with a bureaucrat. In answer to our inquiry about why the FBI is taking so long, their answer is that the FBI is closed over the weekend — a lie. I tell Mike to try during another shift.

Meanwhile, I am moving through the CCDC pipeline. My name is called, and I stand in a line in the hall, apparently to go take a shower. I have no desire to take a shower. The guards seem to treat this as a service, like, “You’ll get to have a nice shower, and some new clothes.” Yeah, right. Not only am I about to go take a shower, but the guys in my line are from other holding tanks, so I don’t know any of them. The guy next to me in line is protesting; he wants to get help for the burning sensation in his penis. The guard’s expert medical advice: just let the hot water run on it, and it’ll feel better. Great, we have to take a shower with Mr. STD over here. The guy keeps wailing, and everyone in our line is thinking, “Please get this guy out of here.” Our prayer is answered.

So, we proceed to the shower room, where we surrender our clothes to the guard. We are given towels and some lye soap, and we take turns in the three showers. After time is up, we line up for inspection, still naked. One by one, we have to open our mouths and raise our arms for the guard. Then we have to lift our testicles. Then we have to turn around and bend over. I’m in here for being good at a card game.

Each of us is issued the jumpsuit, some loose blue pants and shirt (emblazoned with “CCDC,” of course), and a pair of rubber slippers. They give us a toothbrush and, inexplicably, our choice of comb or pick.

It angers me that their procedures, and in some cases, the holes in those procedures, threaten my safety more than is necessary. We have already showered — why do any of us need combed hair? Why are they satisfying a cosmetic purpose at all, especially by supplying devices that can be fashioned into weapons? And, the guard makes the mistake of leaving the room before us, so one or two of the guys do smuggle towels out of the room under their shirts. They could have smuggled other things.

Tank Two

After showering, we are returned to a new holding tank. This one is a bit more spacious, clean, and bright, but otherwise it is the same — a concrete floor, a wooden bench around, a TV with a shield over it, a toilet, and phones. I call Mike to tell him that I have been showered and moved to a new holding tank, where all of us have the CCDC team uniform. There is still no progress on bailing me out. Mike is told that a John Doe cannot be bailed out, so it doesn’t matter if he can put up the $6000 or not; we have to wait until they can identify me. He is getting the red-tape job from hell, and can’t do much for me, but it is so comforting to have someone on the outside, someone trying.

I look around, sizing up this new group: a few Spanish speakers; an outgoing, black kid; an old man with diabetes; a meek Russian whom I met in the previous tank; a tall, aggressive, white guy who has been around the block (he laments how boring it is that “None of us have ‘equipment’ yet.”); and a few others who don’t seem noteworthy or threatening. Black Kid and White Guy are the two who are potentially the most dangerous.

Mike is still trying to give my ID to the Booking Sergeant, and I’m trying to pass the time. Time passes slowly on the inside. The best thing to do is try to sleep. The air conditioning is too strong, so it’s a cold day in hell. By this time I’ve discovered that the best place to sleep is underneath the wooden benches along the wall. It’s a bit darker, more sheltered from being stepped on, and it’s out of view — the best way to stay safe is to go unnoticed.

Dinner consists of something inedible. I give my sugar packets to Black Kid, who’s hoarding them: “These are worth 10 cents a piece upstairs.” I hope I’ll never see “upstairs.” Meek Russian tries to give his milk away to White Guy, and as he holds it out, Thirsty Guy grabs it, at which point White Guy says, “You better watch what you’re grabbing. I believe he was giving that [milk] to me, and I find [your grabbing] offensive.” A bit later I try to placate White Guy by offering a milk I saved from the previous meal. I tell him the milk is no longer cold, and so he declines, but he is appreciative. Now I have to discreetly throw away the milk, because I don’t want to anger White Guy by allowing someone else to drink the milk that he has “dibs” on.

As the hours creep on, I begin to think that I won’t get out over the weekend. The FBI supposedly won’t be able to verify my prints until Monday, and I won’t be able to see a judge until Monday at the earliest, so I’m stuck. I don’t know how long I can last in this room, but I am curious to see if we’ll have any special food tomorrow, Easter Sunday. Yeah, right.

Breakfast at 4:30 a.m. is the same old stuff. A piece of cake. A hot dog. A milk. As Sunday wears on, I am looking forward to the Lakers game that will be broadcast this afternoon. That will kill three hours. The trick is turning the channel. The guard promises to fetch the remote to change the channel, “if she has time.” Yeah, right. We wedged plastic spoons underneath the plexiglass shield to change the channel before, but the spoons were removed during a sweep of the room earlier today.

Together with St. Thomas (who is from the Caribbean), I am able to use our CCDC-issued combs for the same purpose, and the holding tank crowd is quite pleased with our handiwork. The TV reception is horrible, but it is something. Were I at home, I would watch this game anyway, but I find that it’s a completely different experience to watch the game with people I don’t know, mostly criminals, sitting on a concrete floor, with no food and drink, with no freedom, and with uncertainty over what will happen to me. The game ends. I don’t know which team won.

I call Mike frequently, and try to nap, using one slipper as a pillow and the other as a hip cushion against the concrete. My hip is already bruised. I am starting to get hungry, but I am glad I haven’t eaten too much, because going to the bathroom is something I want to minimize. There are three or four guys in the room who have rolls of toilet paper, because they have taken the communal supply and co-opted the rolls for use as pillows. Asking these guys for toilet paper isn’t something I want to do, but no one can hold out forever.

Late that evening, “John Doe” is called. I am going “upstairs.”

Room 9A — RFB at CCDC, Compliments of Caesars

They tell me to grab a bedroll, which is a sheet, a blanket, a toothbrush, soap. I am then escorted to Room 9A. Now this is more like it! Here is my RFB comp from Caesars. This is a large, carpeted, L-shaped room. In the middle of our wing are cots, and I am assigned to one of them. The other wing of the L has tables and chairs to serve as a cafeteria area during meals. Around the perimeter are wooden doors to cells. The doors have only a small window, so the cells do afford privacy, but privacy terrifies me. There are staircases leading up to a balcony around the perimeter, with more cell doors. All together there are about 50 cells. In terms of physical accommodations, this is better than some youth hostels I’ve stayed in long ago.

Of course, it isn’t the physical accommodations that I care about. There are rules posted on the wall, and I quickly and discreetly read them when I get into the room. The main rule that I learn right away is that except for free time (one morning session, one afternoon, and one evening), I am to stay on my cot at all times. During meals we may leave the cots, but only according to the instructions of the guards, and only to enter and exit the line to receive a food tray. Phones may be used only during free time. There are some books on a shelf, and during free time we may pick up books and bring them back to our cot.

Mike informs me that I am scheduled to see the judge Monday morning at 7:30 a.m., so I expect to spend only Sunday night in Room 9A. Yeah, right.

Black Monday

Our 4:30 a.m. breakfast Monday morning is the usual. Crazy Guy is on the cot next to me, so I gave him my extra bread. I don’t want to appear weak, so there are occasions when I trade food instead of giving it away, but then I discreetly throw away the food I receive, because I’m not about to eat anything that another prisoner has touched. After picking up a tray, eating lasts about five minutes, and then we must queue up to return the trays.

Then everyone goes back to sleep. In three hours, I’ll be before a judge. I don’t understand how the judge is able to release me either. If Mike can’t bail me out because I’m unidentified, how can a judge release me if I’m unidentified? Our lawyer isn’t sure how this will work either.

At 8:30 a.m., I awake in a panic. Would they have let me sleep through my 7:30 appointment with the judge? I calmly ask the guard what is going on, because I was supposed to see the judge at 7:30 a.m. “I didn’t call you, because your name’s not on my list.” I can’t believe it. What is going on? I ask if he sees “John Doe” on any list, but of course, all he can tell me is, “This is my list, and you’re not on it, so I didn’t call you.”

I call Mike, who went to the courthouse, expecting to see me. He, too, discovered that I am not on the Monday list. The clerk had erroneously told him that I was scheduled for Monday morning. In fact, I am scheduled for Wednesday at 7:30 a.m. I can’t tell you how gut-wrenching it is to expect release on Monday morning, and then find out that it’s going to be two more days. Even then, would release be certain? I don’t know how I will last two more days. Time stands still on the inside.

“Arnold, Hold the Presses!”

During free time, Cot People are allowed to walk around, and Cell People may leave their cells. Some people play chess, dominoes, cards. Not me. I learn that it’s not wise even to watch others play these games. These folks are territorial, and defensive about strangers watching them play. I make a small joke at the chess table, and Irritable Addict doesn’t think it’s funny. When he starts commenting about how I’ll make a cute couple with this other guy, I nonchalantly slip away, with a vow to avoid the chess players. Luckily, it will take only a few minutes before Irritable Addict gets angry at someone else or something else.

I don’t like the fact that the prisoners have access to “equipment” now. When free time ends, and the prisoners scurry back to their cots and cells, there are quick exchanges of contraband near the cell doors. In some cases, I suspect that drugs are being exchanged, but even money is contraband. Prisoners have access to pens, pencils, and other items that can easily be fashioned into stabbing weapons. There is a pencil sharpener mounted on the wall, available during free time! Cell People there long enough are able to acquire razors! I still think that the safest thing to do is to stay on my cot and keep to myself. Expecting to be there only another two days, I think it is less important for me to make friends than to avoid making enemies.

So I decide that the best way to stay on my cot, even during free time, is to pretend to be reading books. If I can find something good on the shelf, I could even read it. Too much to hope for to find Feller, Volume I, but I’ll settle for any classic. Most of the titles are best-selling mystery thrillers, and I am in no mood. So, I pick up the only classic I can find, The Great Gatsby. I read it long ago in high school, and now I reread it, with better comprehension than the first time. My teacher would be proud.

Since it no longer seems possible to expedite my release, the next order of business is to get a hold of Arnold Snyder somehow. He is about to publish my gaming book, Beyond Counting, and now in light of what has happened, I need him to delay the publication. I need to update some of my advice for players; I need my lawyer to review certain passages; and I need to make sure that the cover is going to be professional-looking, just in case I ever have to face a jury and use my book as evidence. I can’t make long-distance calls, so I tell Mike to call Arnold. Mike does not know Arnold, and in fact, I have never met Arnold either, so this is all quite bizarre.

We make the lucky discovery that if I call Mike using the jail phone, Mike can use Three-Way Calling to get Arnold on the line as well. Arnold tells me that the book is supposed to go to the printer tomorrow, but, out of legal necessity, I tell him, “Arnold, stop the presses!” I need him to wait until I get released, get home, review passages with my attorney, make necessary revisions, and give him a new printout. This will cause a delay of about a week, but it is necessary. [Delaying Arnold’s pipeline may also cause a delay in the release of the second edition of Blackjack Attack, but I hope Don Schlesinger and the readers of that book will forgive me.]

It is ironic that while other prisoners are using their free time to call family and friends, I am calling my publisher. Arnold also agrees to testify as an expert witness on legal advantage play, if it ever comes to that. I can’t say how uplifting it is that a man I have never met would do that for me. It makes me want to fight.

Once per week the prisoners with money in their accounts may fill out order forms for the “commissary.” The following day is like Christmas, with each prisoner receiving his goodies in a big plastic bag. The bags are filled with junk food, stationery, and toiletry items. Giving them candy bars is one thing, but the big sheets of plastic are scary.

One morning, prisoners with shoes may spend an hour out in the recreation yard. I still have only my rubber slippers, but I would not participate anyway. On TV at least, the rec yard is where bad things happen — fights and stabbings. I sleep on my cot.

Some of the prisoners have hobbies. Artist Guy does portraits and nature scenes, sometimes selling illustrated envelopes to other prisoners. Rose Guy made out of toilet paper the most beautiful rose I have ever seen. It has a stem with thorns, and perfect petals. It is the scariest rose I have ever seen.

I finally get word that the FBI has processed my prints. I have no idea how they can release me if the FBI database search turns up nothing. In the end, don’t they have to use my driver’s license, and if so, couldn’t they have used it days ago? Mike posts my bail right away, but it could still take 24 hours to process the bail. Having finished Gatsby, I embark on some lighter reading, a teen “novel” called This Place Has No Atmosphere.

As little as I have in common with any of the guys here, there is one unmistakable bond that we have — we are prisoners, and the guards are guards. After one meal, a couple of guys go to the sink to drink some water, which is not unusual. This particular guard, though, has issues: “There’s no water unless I say so. Sit back down! You just cost everybody half an hour of free time in the morning.” The guard is trying to get us to blame these two prisoners for our loss of free time, but the unanimous feeling among the prisoners is that the only one to blame is the guard. He enjoys the capricious exercise of authority, and such behavior only strengthens our collective resentment of him and his office. Furthermore, we know he is bluffing, because he will not be on duty in the morning to enforce the half-hour reduction in free time. The guard is as weak and foolish as he is sadistic.

As time passes, I become afraid that I will progress to the next step in the pipeline — getting assigned to a cell. Being confined to a cot for most of the day may be safe, but having a roommate? I’m not into gambling.

LVPD Thieves

I am awakened by a tap on the shoulder. My bail has been processed! I will be free in minutes. Not so fast. First I have to get my clothes back, so I am taken to a holding tank, as dingy as the first one. I sit there waiting with a few other guys. Why it is taking so long is a mystery, but a common mystery on the inside. After nearly an hour, a guard comes to process us, and he fetches our bags one by one from storage.

When his bag is returned, Shoeless Guy is missing one shoe. The guard says, “If it’s not in the bag, then you didn’t have it when you got here.” “I came in here with two shoes,” says the prisoner. Then the guard asks, “What size was the shoe?”! The guard goes back to the storage area to “look for the shoe.” Meanwhile, the prisoners speculate that the guard will just go and steal someone else’s shoes from a bag. Sure enough, the guard returns a few minutes later with a pair of shoes. Shoeless Guy takes the shoes, and gives up arguing about his missing shirt. Another eternity passes, but finally we all have clothes.

I agreed with Mike that I would call him and make a beeline for his car when he comes to pick me up. We are worried that cops on the inside will tip off their mugger friends on the outside that we are being released with a stash of chips. We don’t want to tarry and give muggers that chance.

As a guard escorts me down the hall to the property window (like a casino’s cage) to get the rest of my stuff, he says, “There’s a hole in the outer bag, but the inner bags are sealed.” I get to the property window where they produce the bag with my stuff. I see the bags of chips inside the bigger bag, which indeed has a hole in it. I don’t think much of it, and sign for my stuff, and then get escorted to the lobby.

As I wait for Mike in the lobby, I decide to count my chips. When I take out the inner bags, I have a sinking feeling when I see that the inner bags are not sealed, as the guard said. They are just Ziploc bags. I count all the chips, and sure enough, $2000 is missing!

I immediately complain to the guard in the lobby, who summons the other guards, including the Watch Commander. I had been escorted to the lobby, and remained in the empty lobby the entire time. Furthermore, the lobby is being filmed. I offer to let them search me, to show that I do not have the four missing purple chips in my possession.

Naturally, instead of having the slightest concern that a felony theft has occurred in his police station, Watch Commander just says, “You could have counted it back at the window, but you signed the paper.” I argue that I signed for $54,000, not the $52,000 that is in the bag. Further arguments are useless, because the bottom line is that Watch Commander is completely apathetic to my loss of $2000. Looking in his eyes, it is clear that there is nothing I can do, and nothing that I could have done to get that $2000.

Even if I had counted it down at the window, so? There’s $2000 missing. The cops will back each other up. There will conveniently be no film or access log of the property area. They will claim that the $2000 was never there (“You must have come in here with only one shoe!”) To get the money would then require a lawsuit. While $2000 is a nice bonus for a corrupt cop, it’s just small enough that it is not worth my effort. Even if the money could be recovered in a lawsuit, lawyers would eat up most of it. And, with a double felony charge pending, can I risk stirring up animosity by fighting with the LVPD?

By this time, Mike shows up, so we just chalk it up as a business expense, and hop in the car. It’s graveyard shift, and after 4½ days in jail, the Vegas lights have an eerie glow.

The Dream Team

Our court dates are scheduled for exactly one month after our release from jail, so Mike’s is several days before mine. Our first order of business is to get lawyers, and we are in full agreement that we will spare no expense in fighting. All of our legal advisors say that each of us should have a lawyer, so, we retain the two top criminal lawyers in Vegas, in addition to our lawyer-friend on vacation in Hawaii. But they are criminal lawyers, with little understanding of my background, and the nuances of legal, skilled play.

We have seen a group of baccarat players go to jail because of the incompetence of their lawyers, who knew nothing about legal skilled play, so we decide to add none other than Robert Loeb to our team. He’s a criminal lawyer, but also a gaming lawyer and author. And, I know Mr. Loeb personally, having first met him two years earlier at a blackjack table! He will understand the nature of our case at many levels.

The first court date in late May will only be to schedule a Pre-Trial Hearing before a judge, probably in late summer. If the judge decides that there was Probable Cause, he will schedule a date to enter a plea a few weeks later. When we enter a Not Guilty plea, they will then schedule a trial, probably several months after that. So, a trial might not be until December or January, but it is still hard not to think about what would happen there. Were the Gaming Control agents prepared to lie and say that the cards were bent? Worse, had they already bent the cards? The videotape would show no bending, but would they get Griffin “experts” to testify about “subtle moves” and other nonsense? Would a jury of uneducated gamblers have any appreciation for the fact that what we do is legal, and that Gaming Control agents are hardly the unbiased, third-party experts that they pass themselves off as. Naturally the Caesars bosses would lie to protect their careers. In another story (“A Night at the Maxim”) we have court documents that show a casino lying to the Gaming Control Board in an effort to avoid redeeming our chips, so we have no doubts about the corruption of the casinos.

We analyze and overanalyze every scenario. The biggest hypothetical, and one that is relevant to every defendant: If they offer a plea bargain, will we take it? Of course we’re innocent, but what if the prosecutor takes his option to bypass the Pre-Trial Hearing in favor of a Grand Jury? In a Grand-Jury hearing, we would not be present, and even our lawyers would not be present. The prosecution makes its case, and with no rebuttal, it’s quite easy to convince a Grand Jury of probable cause, especially when the prosecution witnesses are prepared to lie and tamper with evidence. So then we could suddenly find ourselves facing a jury that knows nothing about skilled play. Suddenly our use of alias player cards will look “suspicious,” and no doubt our back-room testimony will be taken out of context and twisted. With the truth on our side, and plenty of evidence on our side, we’d be overwhelming favorites, but what if there’s even a 1% chance that a jury could be erroneously convinced that we are cheaters? Is it worth a 1% risk of destroying our lives with felony convictions, or should we admit to something we didn’t do and accept some kind of plea bargain for “Misdemeanor Theft” or something?

It is not an easy question. The ideologue in you may say, “I would never accept a deal where I had to admit to crimes I did not commit.” A piece of me says that same thing, but is it that easy? A felony conviction is so much worse than a misdemeanor, and no matter how innocent you are, facing a jury on a felony charge is gambling. If someone on the casino side tampers with evidence, are you still confident? Vegas is a “company town,” and you would face an uphill battle all the way. Even finding experts to testify in your defense is difficult, because many of the experts either want to retain their anonymity for playing purposes, or they now do casino consulting, and will not “betray” their new taskmasters. Even if you want to fight, and are confident that you’ll ultimately win, a trial process of a year or longer is stressful and costly.

The Phoenix

I won’t tell you my decision to that hypothetical. In the end, we never had to answer. The May court date came and went, and the charges were never filed by the District Attorney. I guess the DA is not interested in fabricated cases. Perhaps he didn’t want to face our Dream Team of Bill Terry, Richard Wright, Robert Loeb, and Lawyer X. It cost us $23,000 to retain the four lawyers through the Pre-Trial Hearing. The Pre-Trial Hearing never occurred, so I guess that’s the best money we ever spent. So much for my muffin.

In the interrogation, I think the GCB agents thought that an academic would be easily intimidated. Perhaps they thought that handcuffs and jail would chase me out of the game forever. What do you think?

Afterward: Lessons

There’s a moral to every parable. This one has many. The great irony of casino countermeasures and intimidation tactics is that they often backfire and lead to innovations by players. As a player, I am so much more dangerous now. As a teacher, perhaps I’m more dangerous still. I will share the lessons that I took away from this incident, but you must decide what is relevant to your own circumstances. The lessons are both from the things we did right, and the things we did wrong.

1. Memorize the local numbers for a lawyer and for some friends. If these friends have access to cash, so much the better. Your cash will be confiscated.
2. While I don’t want casino personnel to see my ID, I do want the police at CCDC to see my ID, to avoid being booked as a John Doe. There is a way to have your cake and eat it, too. Contact me if you want to know.
3. If you carry lots of cash and chips, realize that this gives the casino personnel, GCB, and LVPD more loot to confiscate and steal. Also, an inventory of chips tells GCB agents other casinos where you’ve been playing. (In my case, the funny thing was that while I had chips from casinos throughout Vegas, I had barely played at any of them on that trip. Some of the chips were from over a year earlier. I wonder if the GCB guys wasted time checking these other places.) There’s a tradeoff here, because carrying an inventory of chips and cash facilitates play. The game sometimes demands spontaneity.
4. Hold the cards as gingerly as possible, using only one hand, so that the GCB cannot accuse you of bending (cheating). It’s probably best to pick up the cards in the middle. Put them down so that it’s clear that the corners are not jamming the table.
5. Do not hold anything in your hand, not even money or chips. When I was paid a purple chip for winning a big hand, I held it in my hand. In interrogating me, the GCB agents wanted to know what was in my hand, insinuating that I had a cheating device! Don’t assume that the tape will show what’s in your hand. They may have the wrong angle; they may be focusing on your partner; they may not be zoomed in enough. In this case, I don’t know what it looked like on tape, but I wouldn’t at all put it past these GCB guys to tell a jury that the object in my hand is most likely a cheating device in their “expert opinion.”
6. Your partner’s heat comes down on you. There is no doubt in my mind that we were arrested because my partner was libelously listed in the Griffin book. I knew this, and it was my choice to play with him. In the future, I would think carefully about whether it’s worth playing with someone so hot. Or, at least, if I think we should leave a casino, and he wants to keep playing, I’ll leave without him.
7. Even if GCB gets involved, don’t say anything to them. When they said they wanted to interrogate us, I assumed that they were trying to make an objective decision about whether to arrest us. I agreed to be interrogated, because I assumed that these were honest people. I was wrong. The decision to arrest us had already been made, but they were hoping to get some dirt to hang us. Anything you say can and will be used (and twisted) against you. And, they will ignore things you say that do not suit their purpose. They’ll threaten to take you to CCDC. So what? You’re going there anyway, and if you have ID, you’ll be out of there in 12 hours.
8. If they ask you where else you have played, don’t answer. Of course, you shouldn’t be talking to them at all.
9. If they ask you where you are staying, don’t answer. If it’s a hotel, they’ll just call up that joint and get you barred there. If it’s your friend’s house, they’ll use that to try to fabricate a “conspiracy” case.
10. Don’t get flustered if they say, “Your partner said [this] and your partner said [that].” They will lie about what your partner said, in an attempt to intimidate you, fluster you, trick you. They used this ploy with us, lying to Mike about what I had said (I said I had slept on his couch, but they told him that I said I slept at a casino hotel. They didn’t even ask me how I got to the Strip from the airport, but they told Mike that I had said he picked me up.) Unfortunately, it is legal for them to lie during interrogations, so you should expect it. Of course, you should not allow them to interrogate you.
11. When you get released from CCDC, count everything before you sign. When they steal your money, you still will be powerless, but I’m curious to see what their story will be at that point. In my case, they had no story to explain the missing $2000, nor did they accuse me of hiding it; they merely said that I signed the sheet, so I had no legitimate complaint. So, next time, I want to hear their story when you count before signing.
12. Don’t talk much in jail.
13. Don’t eat food touched by other prisoners. One guy in our holding tank had hepatitis.
14. Even if you are jailed with a partner, hire one lawyer for the initial stages. If the DA never files the charges, you will have saved money by not hiring too many lawyers. If the DA does file charges, there will be plenty of time to hire additional lawyers once the Pre-Trial Hearing is scheduled, or even after that. We jumped the gun in this regard. The process is quite slow. If you end up having to go to trial, then don’t skimp on your legal defense, but don’t get too ahead of yourself thinking about a trial and juries and the like. That’s a lot of unnecessary stress and money. Small steps — small steps.
15. If an incident like this does happen, don’t let it deter you from playing. Most places are not like Caesars. Don’t be paranoid. If you play wisely, you can minimize this risk. Just know that it can happen. ♠

Interview with Tommy Hyland

by Richard W. Munchkin

(From Blackjack Forum Volume XXII #1, Spring 2002)
(From RWM’s Gambling Wizards, Huntington Press, Las Vegas 2002)
© 2002 RWM

[Note from A.S.: Richard W. Munchkin is the author of Gambling Wizards: Conversations with the World’s Greatest Gamblers, and, like Tommy Hyland, a member of the Blackjack Hall of Fame.]

[Note from RWM: Tommy Hyland runs the most successful blackjack team in the history of the game. For twenty years he has trained and tested card counters, then sent them into casinos with piles of money. He fully expects them to be truthful when it comes to reporting their wins and losses. He says, “We’ve made a lot of money by trusting each other.”

Tommy Hyland enjoys the high life at the casinos. They provide him with first class airline tickets and limousine transportation. Arriving at a Las Vegas Strip casino for our interview, I give the front desk the name that Tommy is using this week. I ride a private elevator to a luxury suite. Tommy greets me at the door. This cavernous suite with its marble floors and gold fixtures is larger than my home and probably cost more to build.

I glance in the bedroom and although huge, it looks like a college dorm room. Books and papers are strewn everywhere, and a battered set of golf clubs occupies the second bed. “Let’s order room service,” he says. After all, the casino is paying.]

In the Beginning

RWM: Do you remember the first bet you ever made as a kid?

Tommy Hyland: Seems like the first gambling I ever did might have been a bet on some sports event. We also used to pitch coins against the wall at times.

RWM: At how old?

Tommy Hyland: I’m going to guess I was in fifth grade, maybe ten or eleven years old. We used to pitch nickels, dimes, quarters against the brick wall. The closest one would win and take the other guy’s coin.

RWM: Did you practice at all? Did you try to get an edge?

Tommy Hyland: Yeah, I think we did practice. Might have flipped by ourselves sometimes. I used to bet on myself in sports a lot, shooting baskets or other games. What else did we do? Golf.

RWM: How old were you when you started playing golf?

Tommy Hyland: I think I was about ten or eleven. We used to play for a soda or a dollar or something.

RWM: Where did you grow up?

Tommy Hyland: New Jersey.

RWM: Did your parents gamble?

Tommy Hyland: My Dad gambled but nothing serious. He liked to go to the racetrack a few times a year. He liked to play golf for a dollar or two-dollar Nassau. He used to be a pretty good pool shooter. Bowling too. Just once a month, or something like that.

RWM: Did you play a lot of sports in high school?

Tommy Hyland: Yeah. Basketball, golf, baseball. I played pretty much everything.

RWM: Once you got into high school, did you start betting sports?

Tommy Hyland: Yeah, but not to a great extent. In high school, I’m ashamed to say now, I was the house in giving out the parlay cards. I used to get one from a guy and I’d photocopy it and back my own cards. It’s pretty much the only time I’ve ever been the house. I’ve always been a player. Some guy at my Dad’s work had them, so he’d bring them home. The payouts were so bad, I raised them.

I think there were other guys doing it, but they were just returning the standard payouts, so I eliminated the competition. I made money for a while: Thirty dollars a week, or fifty dollars a week, something like that. Then, I remember I got the bright idea of trying to create more business. I made up my own spreads on high school games. Apparently they were pretty bad. I got waffled one week and I remember having to sell my pool table. I lost about four or five hundred dollars and I think that was the last time I did the cards.

RWM: How did you get into blackjack?

Tommy Hyland: By the time I was in college, in Wittenburg, Ohio, I was playing cards all the time. I played a lot of poker and I got interested in gambling in general. We used to golf a lot for money. I was basically being a bum. I was supposed to be studying political science, but I was on the golf team. I was playing golf and shooting pool and playing cards. I’ve always been an avid reader and I just picked up some books on blackjack. I started reading them and my roommate and I started practicing.

RWM: Did you also pick up books on poker?

Tommy Hyland: No, I never really did. I was beating the game there, but I remember in college the game kind of deteriorated. There were a lot of bad debts. I gradually got out of playing poker. We were playing a little backgammon. I wasn’t any good at either poker or backgammon, but I was better than the guys I was playing with. Based on what I know now, I was horrible.

It seems like we got Revere’s book from the bookstore. [Playing Blackjack As A Business by Lawrence Revere.] My roommate and I started practicing blackjack, and he was more interested in it than I was. He was from Ohio, but he stayed at my house for Christmas break. I lived about fifty miles from Atlantic City. This would have been 1978, I guess, Christmas ’78.

The Hyland Blackjack Team is Born

RWM: So Resorts had just opened.

Tommy Hyland: Yeah, it opened earlier that year. My roommate stayed at my house for about ten days and he drove down to Atlantic City and back every day. I went down with him two or three times. We’d memorized basic strategy, but we really couldn’t count. I didn’t have any significant result, but he won. That was when they had early surrender and you had an advantage off the top.

I guess he was able to count a little bit, but he won eight out of ten times or nine out of ten. He won several thousand dollars. He’d always been a loser in our college gambling, a heavy loser. I said, man, if this guy can win all these times, there might be something to this. So, after I went back to school, I started practicing more and reading. We only had the one book as I recall.

Then I guess I went down to Atlantic City on and off. I thought you had to be a memory expert to keep the count. That it wasn’t really possible to do it yourself unless you had some extraordinary gift.

Revere’s book, and even with the later books, they don’t actually tell you how to physically do it. They really don’t say how you get your speed up or anything like that. It was pretty confusing. Some of Revere’s charts were great. They’re still good today, his color charts. But the physical act of counting wasn’t explained properly.

A friend and I would sit next to each other and I’d count the high cards and he’d count the low cards. We’d whisper after every hand what he had and what I had and then we’d get a count. We did this for hours and hours. We were winning. We did really well. We both put in a thousand dollars and after several months we had three or four thousand each.

RWM: How much were you betting?

Tommy Hyland: We were way over-betting. I know you had to play a five-dollar table back then. There weren’t any two-dollar tables. Resorts International was the only casino open. I’m going to guess we were betting five dollars to fifty dollars, or something like that. We were fortunate not to tap out.

Then we met a guy who told us about a new book by Stanford Wong [Professional Blackjack]. He came on our table and he realized we were counting. He’s the one who told us you have to wait until the person on first base gets his second card, and then you start keeping the count and canceling out. So we started practicing, and obviously after a little while we were able to do it ourselves.

Then we met two other counters. They each had a few thousand dollars. By this time I’d read Ken Uston’s book [Million Dollar Blackjack] which talked about the teams. Having a team seemed really glamorous to us. We decided to trust the other two counters.

My recollection is we each put in four thousand dollars. Now we had this massive sixteen-thousand-dollar bankroll. We started really firing at them. This would have been about October of ’79. We didn’t realize you could keep books. We used to each start at the exact same time. We’d each have $4,000 and we’d agree to all play until a certain time.

Back then it was pretty hard to get barred betting small. I guess we were betting up to a hundred or two hundred at this point. We usually played at night. We’d start at eight p.m. and we’d play until almost closing, and then go over to their apartment and split up the money.

We didn’t keep track of hours. We just all assumed we were all going to play the same time. We didn’t do it by win or anything like that. We just whacked it up each night. It seems like we did this about four or five nights a week for quite a while.

Then we met this annoying guy, Not Too Smart Art. He was pestering us, pestering us. Oh, can I get on your team? He thought we were big shots now. He begged us and begged us to get on the team and we brushed him off a few times and finally we decided to put him on the team. Our bankroll was maybe up to twenty-five grand at this point, plus he put in an equal share. So now we had maybe a thirty-thousand bankroll. It seemed like we won pretty regularly.

Like I say, he begged for two weeks to get on the team and then every time he played he won, so he said, “Oh, I should have kept playing on my own.” That’s what I remember about Art. Just complain and complain: “Why’d I ever get on this team? I should have taken a shot on my own.”

RWM: By this point, did you guys know anything about how much to bet?

Tommy Hyland: A little bit. I could figure out a little but I’m not super sharp at math. I think that by the “Experiment” we had a forty or fifty thousand-dollar bankroll. That was in December ’79. [In December 1979 Resorts International experimented with allowing card counters to play unmolested. The casino was not allowed to bar anyone from play and would not shuffle the cards until two-thirds of the shoe had been dealt. The experiment lasted two weeks.]

We crushed them during the Experiment. After the Experiment, I wanted to keep playing, maybe go to Vegas. The other guys had gotten Stanford Wong’s book, Blackjack In Asia. They decided to go to Asia. That’s when I started teaching all my friends from the golf course. That’s kind of how I got into the whole team thing. We had fifteen or twenty guys by the end of 1980. I’d teach them, test them, and put them on the team.

RWM: What percentage of guys would actually test out?

Tommy Hyland: Pretty much everybody I tried to teach. I just looked around to see which people I thought were honest. I made some poor judgments and ended up with some bad people, but over the years I’ve been fortunate to have mostly good people. I’ve never really found anybody that – there’s maybe like one out of twenty that I tried to teach that I just gave up on.

After a while I just gave people a basic strategy card and showed them how to count, then said, “Come back when you have basic strategy memorized and you can count down a deck within thirty seconds.” Some of those people never came back. Pretty much everybody else was able to learn the rest of it.

RWM: So you started teaching these guys, and you became the administrator of the team?

Tommy Hyland: Yeah, then we’d just play with my money and when we’d win a certain amount we’d whack it up. We did it in a really simplistic fashion, and I know there were lots of inequities in the way we did it. It was either unfair to investors or players.

I didn’t really know much about bankroll requirements. Sometimes the way I structured it we had the wrong incentives. You’ve got to be really careful how you structure a bankroll. It can be pretty bad if something extreme happens. If you start losing real bad and you don’t have it structured properly nobody wants to play. That’s happened a lot in the past.

RWM: What happened with the first big losing streak?

Tommy Hyland: These things all seem to run together. I was always pretty lucky. I remember meeting a couple of other guys who were much better blackjack players than we were. They were much more knowledgeable, but they were having some tough luck and were struggling.

They couldn’t believe how we just always won. During some fight–maybe the Holmes-Cooney fight, or one of those fights a long time ago–we won several hundred thousand just over a weekend. I think we had twenty players out here, and eighteen or nineteen of them won.

RWM: Have you ever had a bankroll that crashed and burned?

Tommy Hyland: I remember we got involved with a guy named Rats Cohen. I always admired people who were really sharp with math and things like that, because I wasn’t that good myself. This guy Rats talked a really good game. I was a young guy, kind of impressionable, and he was pretty impressive.

He had an apartment in Brigantine. He brought me over and showed me this computer equipment. All he needed was a bankroll and we were all going to get rich.

We took one-third of our bankroll and gave it to him. There were all kinds of delays. There were never really any significant results, and he kept asking for more money. His players seemed very skilled. I liked his operators, but the money just disappeared. He was buying four-hundred-dollar eyeglasses and a real nice apartment. It was a nightmare. He was also superstitious. He seemed to not always bet the money mathematically. That bankroll was a disaster. I think we ended up losing two-thirds of our money.

I think that’s when we lost early surrender in Atlantic City. My recollection is we ended the bankroll, and a few of us came out here to Vegas to play, and shortly after that I ended up joining up with Pitts & Red and a few others.

The Blackjack Computer Plays

RWM: How did playing with computers come about?

Tommy Hyland: We’d been hearing about them. We rented a house out near Sam’s Town, and we ordered the hardware from a guy. I remember all of us were in this house, or maybe four out of the five of us, and we had absolutely no furniture. We had one table and we all slept on the floor. I slept in the bathroom because we had no curtains either. That was the only room with a tinted window, so it was a little darker.

We were playing blackjack on a bankroll, but we were waiting for these computers to come. They came with the boots and all, and we’d practice every day in this house. We did really well with the computers. We made a lot of money.

In 1985 they made it illegal to play blackjack with a computer in Nevada. Computers were a relatively new thing. They weren’t used in everyday life the way they are now. The hidden blackjack computers had been glorified in a Sports Illustrated article. The story made Ken Uston and Keith Taft sound like two entrepreneurs blazing a trail through Nevada making money.

It said right in the Sports Illustrated article that the FBI had ruled that these weren’t cheating devices. When Nevada passed a law against them, my mind set was that the only reason Nevada was ever able to get it passed was because the casinos control all the politicians. Clearly they should be legal. You’re just using the information that’s freely presented to you, and it would never be illegal anywhere else.

I had our lawyer at the time check to see if there was any law in the Bahamas that prohibited us from using them, and there wasn’t. So we continued to play everywhere else in the country with the computers, except in Nevada. We were playing in Atlantic City and in the Bahamas and maybe some other islands in the Caribbean.

The casinos were starting to figure out how to spot the computers. They’d look for people with boots, with their feet moving, or sitting with their feet flat on the floor.

At Cable Beach in the Bahamas they caught me with a computer and pulled me into the back room. The casino manager was there, and some Bahamian police that were assigned to the casino. They asked me to pull up my pant legs. When I did they saw the computer. They said, “You’re in a lot of trouble. We make a nice casino down here for you Americans to enjoy yourself and this is the kind of thing you do.”

The casino manager didn’t even seem upset; it was the Bahamian police that seemed really upset, or maybe it was just part of their act. My wife was on the beach. She didn’t even play blackjack at the time. When she came into the hotel they grabbed her and detained her. They took all the money I had in a safe-deposit box. They held me and started combing the books to see what they could charge me with. They held my wife for about thirty-six hours. They put her in a cell with somebody that was being charged with murder. They did all kinds of things designed to intimidate me.

They finally decided to arrest me, and put me in the central lockup with ten other prisoners, in a really filthy situation. I was in there for two days. It looked like a real serious situation. They were talking about trying to keep me in jail for five or ten years.

Somehow I got word to my lawyers in Las Vegas. My two lawyers came down. They weren’t allowed to practice there, so they hired a Bahamian lawyer. There was no real law down there. The only thing they understood was money. Everybody you ran into was figuring out how they could get some of the money. I think they had a $140,000 of mine and they were trying to figure out how they could all whack it up.

So anyway, my wife got out of there. She flew home. There were all these negotiations. We negotiated that I’d plead guilty to some sort of fraud and get a suspended sentence. It was clear they weren’t letting me out of there. I wasn’t going to win any trial down there, so even though I hadn’t done anything illegal or unethical, it was clear that I had to pay them off and get out of there.

The lawyer negotiated this deal where they kept about half the money and they returned the other half. Then, right when I was supposed to sign the agreement, this Bahamian lawyer said, “By the way, when you get the other half of your money back, I want twenty- five-thousand of it. We had paid him fifteen-thousand-dollars and he’d only worked about two hours at this point. He had me over a barrel. We decided to do that too. I lost close to a hundred-thousand dollars.

I also ended up going to an actual court proceeding. With their accents you couldn’t even understand what was going on. It was amazing. You’d have to be there because you couldn’t imagine. They might as well have been speaking in a foreign language. I didn’t know what was happening. I don’t know what I pled guilty to. My lawyers assured me that it wouldn’t matter. That it would never be recognized in the U.S. as anything.

RWM: But it showed up in Canada?

Tommy Hyland: Well, to the best of my knowledge, it doesn’t show up anywhere on a computer or anything. But it got a lot of publicity, and the Canadian casinos used this to get our group and me out of there.

Apparently, Canada’s immigration laws – if you’re convicted of a felony in another jurisdiction that would be punishable by more than ten years in jail in Canada, you can be deemed as not admissible into Canada. So the Canadian casinos, together with Canadian immigration, tried to do this. I was able to win this case and I’m allowed in Canada.

RWM: Was this just harassment?

Tommy Hyland: Yes. A bunch of my friends were counting cards and were exchanging the information through signals. The Canadian casino in Windsor tried to make this out as some sort of fraud. These were people who played for me.

I tried to go up there and get them out of it, and I was talking to the press. Public sympathy was obviously on our side. This was a big deal in Windsor. It was the front-page story three or four days in a row; all about this trial and about these people who’d been accused of cheating. Once the press got a hold of it and interviewed the people involved, they were on our side and so was public sentiment. I think the casino tried to bring up the incident in the Bahamas to stop our momentum. They tried to make me out to be a convicted felon.

RWM: Wasn’t there something from that Bahamas incident involving Gambling Times Magazine?

Tommy Hyland: Right. At that time the publisher of Gambling Times wrote this article, the tone of which was kind of I told you so. He used to be partners with Rats Cohen and I think they had a falling out. Now he took this high moral position that these computers were unethical.

He wrote this article where he basically exaggerated what happened to me in the Bahamas, and said that I was sexually assaulted while in jail. We sued him for libel, but we lost. New Jersey had a high standard. You had to prove that it was deliberately malicious or something. So he just said that that’s what he’d been told.

RWM: You talk about using the press. Didn’t you even hire a lobbyist at one point?

Tommy Hyland: All we want to do is play a game according to the rules that a casino lays out. That’s always been my view. The casino can make any rules they want. We’ll either beat the game or we won’t play it if we don’t think we can beat it.

Even though we operate ethically and legally, casinos are constantly harassing us. Unfortunately, it’s been necessary to hire lawyers and yes, we even hired a lobbyist. The casinos are very powerful and they’ve gotten a lot of laws passed that are probably not in the best interest of the public. We hired a lobbyist a couple different times to try to get our views heard by the New Jersey legislature.

On Running a Blackjack Team

RWM: Do you think that running a blackjack team is the same as running a small company?

Tommy Hyland: I’m sure there are lots of similarities. One of the main differences I’ve noticed is that people, when they meet blackjack players, can’t believe that we just hand each other massive amounts of money. A player comes back and says how he did. He might say he lost $20,000 or $50,000 and we just say, okay. We write it down; we believe him.

That’s probably the biggest difference that comes to mind. People just can’t believe that we don’t lose all our money from people stealing it. We’ve had a few bad incidents, but most of the time we’ve been pretty successful. We’ve made a lot of money by trusting each other. I may not even know a person, but if he knows a few people I know and they’ll vouch for him… We’ve loaned large amounts of money to people we hardly knew just because other people could vouch for them.

RWM: Didn’t you have trouble at another island casino?

Tommy Hyland: St. Kitts, yeah. It’s an island in the Caribbean. That’s been pretty much where all my foreign play has taken place. I’ve played most every place in the Caribbean. I went to this island, St. Kitts. They only had one casino. They had a pretty good game, maybe six or eight blackjack tables. I got friendly with the casino owner. This guy took an active role in running the casino. He was always on the floor; sometimes he’d push the dealer out of the way and say, “Let me deal for a while.” He got to like me while I was there. I played golf with him every day. I was doing pretty well. I won almost $30,000 in the course of four or five days.

On the last day, he saw me walking through the lobby and called me over. He said, “Tommy, you’re going back to Philadelphia in the morning aren’t you?” I said, “Yeah.” He said, “Would you mind giving something to a friend of mine back there?” I said, “Sure, I’ll do that for you.” He said, “Come on with me to my room and I’ll get it.” So I went with him to his room and he went to a desk. He reached in a drawer, pulled out a gun and pointed it at me, and he said, “I know who you are. I know what you do. I want the money back that you won.”

He had a piece of paper, it was a Griffin report, and he was reading from it. Tom Hyland, alias so-and-so, card counter, card-counting team. He’s reading from it and he says, “I want my money back,” while he’s holding this gun. I was young and foolish at the time, and I said to him, “I can’t give it to you. It’s not all my money. Besides, I won it fair and square. You do whatever you have to do, but I’m not going to give it to you.”

RWM: That’s pretty ballsy with a gun pointed at you!

Tommy Hyland: I’d hand it over in about three seconds nowadays. So he said, “OK, we’re going for a walk then.” It was night. We walked out of his room and he started prodding me with the gun in my back. We were walking down this narrow stone path. After we took about twenty steps I said, “I changed my mind. You can have your money back.”

RWM: Do you think this guy really would have shot you?

Tommy Hyland: I doubt it… Maybe. He ran that whole island. He might have been able to do it. He was flabbergasted by the whole thing and he was really pissed. I think he was also hurt. He thought we were friends. So, we walked back to the main building. He went to the office and said, “Give him his safe-deposit box.” The girl gave it to me. He said, “Count out $30,000,” because I had what I started with also. I said, “I think I only won $29,000.” He said, “All right, count out $29,000.” I gave it to him and he said, “OK, have a nice trip. See ya’ later.”

Then, he went back toward his hotel room and I was all shook up. I went back to my room, which was right across the way from his, and I saw him leave. I don’t remember exactly how it happened, but I was with somebody else and I said, “I’m going to go in there and see if I can find my money.” I went into his suite and looked around for the money, but I never found it. When I got back here I tried to get a lawyer and write nasty letters and call the Prime Minister, or whatever he was called on that island. I never got any satisfaction. It was lost.

RWM: Have you had other incidents where money has been stolen from you like that?

Tommy Hyland: Unfortunately, we’ve had a fair number of these incidents. I also remember one of my teammates got his money taken in Aruba. He was down there with his girlfriend and the casino got a flyer from Griffin saying that he was a computer player. By this time we would never play with a computer anywhere we weren’t sure it was legal. We would never have taken a computer to the Caribbean at this point. It would be a ridiculous thing to do.

He was down there in Aruba just counting cards. They insisted he had a computer. They searched him. They searched his girlfriend. They searched his rental car. They searched his hotel room. He had front money on deposit, and they said, “We know you had a computer; we just can’t find it. We’re keeping your money.” Coincidentally, I think that was about $30,000 also. He did the same thing I did. He made inquiries, but it was lost. It didn’t look practical to go after it.

RWM: Tell me the treasure map story.

Tommy Hyland: That’s when I was playing with Spike. This is before we had the bad incident in the Bahamas. We were all traveling back and forth to Freeport and Nassau to play. They had a high limit and they had a good game for these computers.

We didn’t want to carry massive amounts of money in and out of the country, and couldn’t really figure out how to leave it down there for the next guy. So Spike decided to bury it a couple miles away from the casino. He drew this map for himself, because he was planning on going back there. But then he got tied up with other things and he didn’t really want to go back to the Bahamas to play.

I did want to go, so he asked me to get his money down there. He said, “It’ll be easy; you can’t miss it. All you gotta do is find this spot, and from there you follow the map.” Well the map left a little to be desired. Spike had landmarks that were out in the water on another island, and you were supposed to figure it out from there. My wife and I took probably an hour or so to find this money. When we did, the box he put it in was all rotted, the money was moldy and smelled terrible.

We took it into the casino to play and they said, “Where did you get this?” It was about $140,000.

RWM: Has carrying cash become a big problem in the U.S.?

Tommy Hyland: It seems like it. Especially traveling through airports. Driving the interstate with money we’ve had problems and I’ve heard of other people having problems. They passed these laws to supposedly stop money laundering and drug dealing. People don’t realize how much the laws also affect the law-abiding citizen.

Some of the ways the laws are written, local police who stop people with money and confiscate it benefit directly. So they’re anxious not to give you the benefit of the doubt. There have been some real horror stories. These drug agents, police, and custom agents prey on people that don’t speak English. They find any excuse to take their money, and then it’s a nightmare to get it back.

RWM: Let’s talk about the Griffin Agency. What was your first experience with them?

Tommy Hyland: My first experience with them was when I got barred at the Sands back in the early ’80s by a guy made famous by Ken Uston’s book. [The Big Player by Ken Uston and Roger Rapoport]. A guy named Herb Nunez. He pulled me into the back room and forced me to have my picture taken. I found out several months later that there were flyers out on me, that I was now in the Griffin Book.

RWM: Did you notice an immediate effect when you walked into new casinos?

Tommy Hyland: Yeah, I found that now, instead of being barred because they recognized my style of play, frequently when I got barred they would call me by name or something like that. I don’t think back then I knew how all this Griffin stuff worked, and I was kind of taken by surprise by some of the things they knew.

The bad thing about the Griffin Agency is a lot of these foreign jurisdictions don’t really understand card counting. Sometimes Griffin doesn’t really make much of a distinction as to what activity you’re up to. They see you in a Griffin book and they explode. They figure you’re a scam artist and you’re cheating them out of money.

That’s led to a lot of nasty incidents. The other thing they do is when they list me or some other old time player today, they always put them in there as a computer player. Well, none of these people have used computers since the laws were passed against them. They only used them when they were legal. So a lot of times in these foreign places, the casino either legitimately thinks you have a computer or they use this as a guise to search you, harass you, and take some of your money, claiming they know you had a computer.

That’s what happened to my teammate in Aruba. The reason he lost his money was because he was listed in the Griffin Book as a computer player. They don’t make any distinction that you only used a computer when it was legal.

RWM: Isn’t that libel?

Tommy Hyland: You would think so. Some other card counters and I have tried to sue this Griffin Detective Agency. We never seem to get anywhere. Libel and slander are some of the toughest cases to win. If they can prove you’re a public figure, you have to prove it’s deliberately malicious. Somebody like me, even though my name wouldn’t be known by the general public, for purposes of the case I’d be a public figure, because I’m a well-known blackjack player. Someday I’m sure Griffin is going to get what they deserve. Hopefully somebody will win a big case.

I’m sure if some sheriff in the middle of Kansas sees this picture that looks like a mug shot, and finds out the casino is holding you, he’s going to treat you as some sort of criminal. Right on the top of the page it says Cheating Activity, and then it has your picture. Then they just happen to mention that you’re a card counter.

But I don’t want to overemphasize the effectiveness of the Griffin Agency. They hurt us a little bit, but I can play more blackjack than I have time for. I can’t play in every single casino that I want to. Particularly in Atlantic City I’m really well known but that’s not because of Griffin. It’s not a big factor for us. We can all play pretty much as much as we want to. We just have to move around.

RWM: Do you wear disguises?

Tommy Hyland: These days I don’t wear any actual disguise. I try to change my appearance so I don’t have to go to a lot of trouble each time I go out and play. I don’t quite have the energy to do that. I’ll dye my hair and grow a beard, or get my hair curled, cut it short, grow it long, things like that. I have ordinary features and an ordinary build, and people seem to forget my face fairly easily.

RWM: Didn’t you get barred once as Santa Claus?

Tommy Hyland: Yeah. That was back in Atlantic City, where they used to do this three-step process. The first time you got barred they’d tell you that you were welcome to play any other game except blackjack. The second time they’d bar you they’d say you weren’t welcome on the premises at all. And if you got barred a third time you’d get arrested for trespassing.

I think at the time I had already gotten the second step from Harrah’s, so I got the bright idea on Christmas Eve of dressing as Santa Claus. I was just going to fire away from minimum to maximum. If they barred me they would treat it as the first step. They wouldn’t have any idea who I was.

And that’s what happened. There were four or five of us in there at once. One guy heard a floorperson on the phone say, “I got a guy betting two hands of a thousand down here. Got a guy over there betting purple chips, and Santa Claus is really going crazy.”

It was pretty funny and it worked out perfectly too. They just read me the first warning, and they were laughing while they did it. They thought it was pretty funny. They took it in the Christmas Spirit.

RWM: When you did go to the trouble of wearing a disguise, did you ever go black, or Asian, trying to change your race?

Tommy Hyland: I never did that. The best disguise I ever had was when I went to Hollywood and got a couple wigs from this guy Ziggy, who’s a famous wig maker. I guess he made wigs for a lot of the Hollywood celebrities.

This was a long time ago, maybe fifteen years ago. He was the only guy who could make a realistic looking bald wig. I paid $2,500 for this balding blond wig. It looked really good. Nobody ever realized it was a wig. I got a lot of play out of that. It was worth more than the $2,500 I paid for it.

I also got fake teeth from Mike Westmore, who I believe won an Oscar for the make-up in the movie Mask. They were a little uncomfortable. I remember going back to him to modify them. That was probably the best disguise I ever had. I had to have my eyebrows dyed. They had to keep re-dying them. I had this spirit gum to attach the wig. It took a good hour to get ready to go play. My wife used to have to put it on me. You couldn’t put it on yourself.

RWM: Any other particularly outrageous stories that happened in casinos?

Tommy Hyland: When I first was playing I wasn’t the sharpest guy around. I’ve learned a lot over the years from the people I joined up with. A lot of the stuff we did wasn’t particularly profitable, but we used to have a lot of fun.

We would all go into these Atlantic City casinos at the same time. Twenty guys would just go in and bet. We really didn’t care if we got barred. We would just all go in there at the same time, figuring they couldn’t get everybody at once, because they had this really elaborate procedure that they were required to do. They had to come over and pull you away from the table and read you this card, and only a certain person was authorized to do it. We figured if we had fifteen or twenty of us, they couldn’t get everybody at once. That used to be fun.

RWM: When did the law change? When were they no longer allowed to bar you for counting cards?

Tommy Hyland: That’s when Ken Uston won his case. I guess that was in 1982.

RWM: And did that hurt the games? Was it better for you when they could bar you?

Tommy Hyland: Some people think that. I don’t. I know a lot of card counters like it where they’re allowed to bar you. They think the rules are better, the games are better.

I’ll always campaign for no barring. I just don’t think it’s right that they should be able to do that. And we’ve certainly made plenty of money in Atlantic City since they haven’t been allowed to bar us. It’s much more comfortable to play when you’re not worried about getting hauled off to some back room, or getting arrested or harassed.

As far as I’m concerned, and I’m sure most people agree, if you’re playing blackjack there, Atlantic City is the place you’re least afraid of some sort of casino nastiness. The worst that can happen is they’re going to shuffle the cards on you. I like that feeling.

RWM: You’ll no longer play out of the country?

Tommy Hyland: I’ll play out of the country. I won’t play in those ridiculous places anymore. I won’t play in the Bahamas or any of those islands, but I’ll play in Canada. I’ve played in Australia. I don’t plan on going to Europe, but I’d play in some of those countries. All the countries that I view as civilized.

It shocks me that some of these guys with all kinds of money will go to these crazy places to play blackjack, just because they have a good rule or something. It just doesn’t seem worth it to me. Boxer was talking about going to Russia to play. They have some great game there or something. That just seems like insanity to me.

RWM: On your team, do you have different people who do different things?

Tommy Hyland: We have different levels of skill. That’s another thing about this Griffin Agency that makes me laugh. We have people that can barely pass our test. Griffin makes them sound on these flyers like masterminds. They’re interested in self-promotion. If the Agency makes these people sound real dangerous, like all Einsteins, the casino is likely to renew their subscription. Most of our players are just regular card counters.

RWM: Have you branched out into other forms of gambling?

Tommy Hyland: I do a lot of sports betting. I don’t bet my own opinions, but I have some people’s opinions that I value and I’ll bet money on games.

RWM: One of the things that Alan Woods mentioned was that computers have changed everything in gambling.

Tommy Hyland: That’s true. Unfortunately, I’m computer illiterate. I don’t use a computer.

RWM: Do you use it to analyze games at all?

Tommy Hyland: We use Stanford Wong’s program, Blackjack Analyzer. That’s great. You used to have to try and figure out win rates by hand, and make all these assumptions. In the old days you’d ask knowledgeable people, what do you think this game is worth? Now there’s no more of that nonsense.

RWM: The sports betting that you do, is there a computer model involved in that?

Tommy Hyland: I’m sure these guys do computer work. I’m not really privy to it. I’m not an active participant. I just bet my money and they get a share.

RWM: Alan mentioned a horseracing story that you did together.

Tommy Hyland: I collaborated with Alan on that. We made $27,000, and the horse’s name was House Speaker. I’m not sure if that was the horse that won, or that was the horse we pumped so much money on. Back then there was no pari-mutuel betting in Las Vegas. You’d bet at the race book and the money didn’t go into the track pool at all. They would just pay you off at track odds up to a certain amount. They would pay as much as ten or fifteen to one.

You could bet money at the track on a bad horse and make him the favorite, and make the true favorite a long shot in Las Vegas. That’s what we did. We went to Keystone racetrack in Philadelphia, three or four guys from our blackjack team. Then we had friends in Vegas, I guess we had our watches synchronized. We bet as much as we could on the worst horse in the race, to show. This was a small track so it didn’t take much money to pump it up. As long as the best horse finished in the top three we would win. It paid a small amount to win and paid a monster show because there was relatively no money on him in the show pool. All the money was on this 50-1 shot.

That was fun. I believe our total take, split about twenty ways, was $27,000. It was not a big deal, but we got stories in the newspaper. Both in the paper out here and in the Philadelphia paper. “Still investigating. It doesn’t appear that there was any illegal activity.” I think it was done maybe a few more times with the dogs in Arizona, but that got to be an old trick. You couldn’t bet a lot of money to show or to place in Nevada after a few more of those incidents.

RWM: How did your parents feel when you first started playing?

Tommy Hyland: They were pretty conservative. They were hoping that it was only a phase and that I’d grow out of it and get a real job. My father is deceased, but my mother accepted it. She’s used to it now. My mother actually is pretty amazing. She’s eighty-seven years old and she still plays golf or tennis five times a week. They did a special on the Philadelphia eleven o’clock news sportscast; they did a feature on her playing tennis. She still moves around pretty good.

RWM: Are there more benefits to playing on a team than just evening out the fluctuations?

Tommy Hyland: Yeah, there are a lot of great things about playing on a team. There’s the camaraderie. You have somebody to travel with. You learn things from each other. You share information. It seems like you can really come up with ideas when you have a team. One guy has the germ of an idea, and he bounces it off somebody, and this guy adds to it, and all of a sudden you’ve got a great project. There are advantages to playing on your own, too. I’ve never really played on my own, but there are a lot of successful people that have done that. There are not really many people out there that play blackjack as their sole source of income on their own.

RWM: Any more stories come to mind?

Tommy Hyland: I’ll tell you my famous one. It’s not really famous, but Wong asked me if he could use it when he was giving one of his talks. This is when we were playing mostly in Atlantic City. I had these old friends that grew up in my neighborhood. They had a son who was a little younger than me, and he was going to college. He asked me as a way to make money in the summer if he could come and play blackjack for me. He was a real smart kid and I knew he was honest. So I said sure, I’ll teach you how to play.

I taught him how to play and he played Atlantic City and he did well. Toward the end of the summer he decided he’d make a trip to Las Vegas. One of his first plays was at the Sands. He was winning and winning and he couldn’t lose a hand. They didn’t have anything bigger than hundred dollar chips in the rack, so he had all these black chips piled up, maybe seven or eight thousand dollars worth in front of him.

The shoe went negative and he decided to count his money to see how much he was winning. He took all his chips off the table, and as he was heading to the restroom, he noticed a security guard looking at him. Now he had heard from guys who came back from Las Vegas about getting barred, and he heard about people getting roughed up in the back rooms. So he ducked into the restroom, went into a stall, and shut the door.

He pulled out his chips and was counting his money while sitting on the toilet. All of a sudden there was a knock on the stall door. He opened up the stall, and there was this big security guard. The guard looked down at him and said, “What are you doing?” He had all his chips, and he was fumbling around, and he said, “I was just counting my money.” And the security guard said, “In the ladies’ room?”

Another time… when I first started out we were really aggressive and we used to get barred all the time. Most times we wouldn’t say anything while we were being ushered out the door, but sometimes we’d ask them why, or say all kinds of things. Every situation was different.

One time, one of our players was in Puerto Rico and he was down $4,700. The casino manager came over and said, “We don’t want you to play blackjack anymore.” A lot of times how we’d respond if we were losing was, “Well, are you going to give me back the money that I lost?” And of course they would always say no. Well, this time, the casino manager said “OK, we will,” and he gave him $4,700 back! He gave him the $4,700 and he said, “OK, just never come back in here again.” That was at the old Ramada in Puerto Rico on the main drag there.

How Casinos React

RWM: You mentioned being backroomed. Does that still go on?

Tommy Hyland: There don’t seem to be many backroomings, but there’s still a lot of nastiness that our guys have experienced. The popular thing nowadays is to electronically lock you out of your room. Your plastic key card suddenly doesn’t work. So it’s the middle of the night, you go up to your room, and you can’t get in. You go the front desk and you say that your key doesn’t work. They check on it by looking on the computer, where there’s a note to call security or the casino manager. They bar you and stick you with a hotel bill even though they promised to comp it.

I hate to get people comps anymore, because things just always seem to go wrong. We actually have a rule that you’re not allowed to get room comps for people that aren’t on the team. I’m afraid people play too conservatively, because they’re afraid of getting kicked out of their rooms. That’s just foolish on the casino’s part, because we just get more determined to beat that place. It hasn’t happened to me, but it’s happened to other guys.

RWM: But you think barrings have become much more civil in the last five years or so?

Tommy Hyland: In general.

RWM: What about in these little places that have sprung up all over the country?

Tommy Hyland: Casinos are afraid of litigation. It does seem like most places go out of their way to be nice about it. And we’re nice about it too. I’m always nice about it. I’ll always go back eventually, but I won’t try to push it in their face. I won’t go back the next week, or something like that. I’ll stay out of there what I consider to be a reasonable period of time – six months or a year. I’ll never just go back out of defiance.

I don’t think it’s ethical that they bar you. I don’t think it’s legal. No place is going to intimidate me into not going back. Well, the islands have definitely intimidated me. I’ve decided not to go to them. But no place in the U.S. is going to intimidate me into not playing blackjack. If they have a good game and I think I have a chance of fooling them, I’m going to play.

RWM: If your son came to you and said, “I want to be a professional gambler,” what would you tell him?

Tommy Hyland: That actually is a realistic possibility. He just turned twenty. I don’t think he wants to do it for his career, but I think he does have an interest in playing. He’s a real good golfer. I think he’s hoping to make his career in golf.

I think blackjack is a great profession. I get a lot of enjoyment out of it, not just because you can make a good living at it, but I think it’s the perfect way to make money. It seems to me that you’re taking the money from greedy corporations. The more influence they get in a particular area, I think the worse off that area will be. I think the money is better off out of their hands. I think you’re on the good side of the equation.

I mean, I would never want to be the house. If somebody told me I could make $10,000,000 a year working for a casino, I wouldn’t even consider it. It wouldn’t take me five minutes to turn it down. I wouldn’t be interested. I don’t like casinos. I don’t like how they ruin people’s lives. The employment they provide, I don’t think, is a worthwhile thing for those people to be doing. They’re taking people that could be contributing to society and making them do a job that has no redeeming social value. That’s my view.

RWM: In your case, your son has the benefit of having you to teach him, but if it were somebody who wrote you a letter from out in the hinterlands, who said, ‘I want to become a professional gambler,” what would you tell him to do?

Tommy Hyland: I actually get that a lot. The thing I really get a lot is, strangers asking to get on my team, or for me to back them. I’m not interested in that. Unfortunately, there’s a lot of really bad stuff written on blackjack. I’d try to steer them to the right books. Emphasize that you have to have a bankroll that’s discretionary money.

It’s a tough grind. It’s not a sure thing. I’m more optimistic than most people about blackjack. I think it’s clearly possible for somebody starting out at blackjack to make quite a bit of money. It’s certainly not as hard as playing poker, or trying to beat sports betting. The good thing about blackjack is that it’s cut and dried. There is not much subjectivity to it. If you follow the books and you’re a reasonably intelligent guy, there really isn’t any reason you can’t make money.

To me the contrast between blackjack and poker is clear. Poker you have the benefit that you can put in as many hours as you want. You’re not going to get barred. But, to make twenty or thirty dollars an hour at poker you have to be quite good. You have to beat a lot of real sharpies, guys who have been playing for years. To make twenty or thirty dollars an hour at blackjack is easy. You can do that after one month of study, as long as you don’t make mistakes. As long as you learn properly and you have the bankroll, that’s a very low win rate at blackjack.

RWM: How do you think the game has changed? Do you think it’s gotten better or worse?

Tommy Hyland: The individual games have definitely gotten worse, although there are still places with really nice rules around. I think that right now, it’s a great time for blackjack players. There are so many casinos, it seems no matter how well known you are as a player, you’re always going to find somewhere to play. I think the state of blackjack is good. ♠