Category: Uncategorized

A First Year in the Blackjack Pits
by G.K. Schroeder

Blackjack Luck
by Howard Grossman

The Low-stakes Professional Card Counter
by Arnold Snyder

Las Vegas Blackjack Diary (excerpt)
by Stuart Perry

Waiting for the Long Run
by Arnold Snyder

Winners and Losers
by Tobaksa, Tommy Hyland, Taylor James, Dan Paymar, Pro21, Dustin D. Marks, One More Shoe, Bob Loeb, Abbot Avarissa, Bill Haywood, Anthony Curtis, JC, Cizef, Max Rubin, James Grosjean, John Brahms, Moe Cash

Risk of Ruin for Basic Strategy Players
by Brother William

A Counter’s Story
by One More Shoe

Lady Luck: Ain’t She a Bitch?
by Arnold Snyder

Psychology of Professional Gambling
by Orange County KO

You Won’t Win
by Arnold Snyder

Playing Blackjack in Nepal

by BJ Traveller (with Mark Dace)
(From Blackjack Forum XXIII #4, Winter 2003)
© Blackjack Forum 2003

I love and hate Nepal as I was JAILED there 76 days but was rescued by the Nepal casino and many nice Nepalese. Nepal is a good place for blackjack, but beware ….

Major Casinos in Nepal

The major Casinos in Nepal are Yak & Yeti, Everest, Crowne Soltee, and Annapuma. Two new ones have been planned. All casinos are owned by an American. He has been running casinos for over 30 years in Nepal.

Blackjack Rules in Nepal

The blackjack games I find in Nepal were all 4 decks, S17, DAS, split to 3 hands, ENHC (dealer takes split and double with BJ). Penetration varies from 90% (for morons) to 50% (for bet spreaders), up to three “back bets” are allowed. The tables have seven boxes. The limits are 100 Indian rupees (about $2.20) and $3US (play at the same table) to $100 (Annapuma) and $300 (Yak & Yeti and Everest). Some casinos place a table max of $600 aggregate on suspected counters. One player may bet 3 to 6 boxes (different casinos allow different numbers of hands). Suspected counters may be restricted to a 10-unit bet spread.

Risks of Playing at Casinos in Nepal

All casinos are at Kathmandu, the capital, which is quite safe. (Rebels are at remote towns.) There is, however, severe foreign exchange control in this FX-short country. People bringing in more than $2,000 need to declare it and get a stamped duplication of the declaration. Read that again and make sure you understand it, because the Customs officials make no mention of this required duplicate form when you declare the funds you are carrying, which gives crooked Customs officers an opportunity to set up unsuspecting visitors for trouble when they later attempt to leave the country.

Customs officers can get 20% on catching undeclared money, so they routinely “lose” the paperwork if you fail to ask for a duplicate of your declaration form. I declared my money but was not given the duplicate certificate and ended up jailed for 76 days. (More on this later … )

Currency Control in Nepal

You can’t bring out more than you declared. You can’t buy traveler’s checks in Nepal. The Nepal casinos will not give you proof of your winnings, so you have to take the risk of transmitting any casino winnings out through black market or smuggle them out yourself.

Food in Nepal

Buffet and a la carte are offered to gamblers. Locals are not allowed to gamble, theoretically. Indians are major customers so most foods are curry flavored and beef is not offered regularly. There is a Chinese restaurant at Everest Hotel.

Comps at Casinos in Nepal

Food is comped. Yak & Yeti requires a $50 average bet for 4 hours for a room comp. Everest requires a $20 average bet for the same 4-hour time frame.

Major Attractions in Nepal

Mountain Everest ($109 for mountain flight), Palaces (3 World Heritage Sites at Kathmandu). Casinos will send cars for a city tour.

Souvenirs in Nepal

Crafts, textiles, metal castings, and wood carvings.

Blackjack Travelings in Nepal

Nepal is a mountainous country between China and India. It shares Mount Everest with China and charges high fees for climbers. The country is land-locked and has one of the lowest per capita annual incomes ($250, two-thirds that of Bangladesh) in the world.

Most travelers fly from Bangkok and New Delhi. Most people get a landing visa. The hotel reservation counter asked for $150 for a room at Yak & Yeti, which we found out from casinocity.com was the hotel with the largest casino. I didn’t take it for the possibility of room comps. The clerk offered a 50% discount to lure me. I paid $3.50 for a taxi going to the hotel ($2 should be enough).

Yak & Yeti Casino

There is a name for the casino at the Yak & Yeti Hotel but I see no reason for differentiating the casino from the hotel, thus I always use the hotel name for the casino. We found a casino host to ask for a room. He made the room reservation for us at the casino rate and said the room could be comped based on our play.

The casino was medium sized with about 20 tables offering BJ, pontoon, flush (a 9-card poker game), baccarat, and roulette. I later learned that the casino leases space from the hotel for $20,000 a month. The casino employs 600 people. A dealer makes about $100 a month working 40 hours a week, which is generous compared to Sri Lanka (where dealers get $100 a month working 72 hours a week in a country with a per capita income three times that of Nepal).

There are four blackjack tables, which are also used for pontoon. Most Indians play pontoon. The house edge at blackjack is about 0.50% off the top. Penetration was good but became worse after we jumped our bets. It was hand-shuffled but the cards are washed before every shuffle.

We took a casino car for a city tour and shopping, and went to Buddha’s birthplace (Lumbini) for a one night stay.

The Nepal casinos publish a quarterly English gaming magazine called Casino Times with articles on all aspects of gambling, including card counting. Indian gamblers play blackjack poorly and like to split 10s. The casino doesn’t care about minors gambling. We sat playing together with a 12-year old boy who scorned his father for hitting 12 against a dealer’s 6.

Customers were treated courteously. A player complained about bad cards and the pit boss asked the relief dealers to line up for the player to pick. There are three small rooms at the casino. Customers can get free massages, haircuts, and have their fortunes told. There is a restaurant in the gaming hall with a platform for live dancing every night. The casino hires many beautiful hostesses to walk around lighting cigarettes and changing money for players.

Annapuma Casino

The Annapuma Casino is a 5-minute walk from Yak & Yeti. This casino is the smallest one with about 10 tables. It had bad penetration (50%) as soon as we sat down. Pit bosses were very nervous about BIG ($100) bets. My friend jumped in betting $100 on the last hand. The next shoe he bet $3. The pit boss said he could only spread to 20 times his smallest bet.

Lumbini Casino

At the Lumbini Casino the host would only comp 2 nights (of 4). We threatened to move to Everest, which asked for only a $20 average bet for 4 hours a day. He agreed on future room comps if we bet a $50 average. Indians got better terms. For Indians, a buy-in of $1,000 would automatically get them 4 nights. The Nepal hotels also charge twice the room rate for non-Indians and locals.

We hired a car with a driver. The quote from the casino host was worse than the travel agent’s. He suggested we get a car without air conditioning for $30 less. We took the cheaper option, as we would travel mostly in the mountain range.

We were told it took 8 hours for the 200-mile trip due to traffic jams and winding roads. We rode up and down along the Trisuli River. The car was hot when we ascended to the plain. We found that the car was in fact owned by the casino host, so we asked the driver what would happen if we wanted an air-conditioned one. He told us it would be the same car with the air conditioning turned on! We bribed the driver $10 for the air conditioning (which worked poorly). We later went to India and found that Indian taxis charge a 40% premium for turning on the air conditioning.

There is a small temple beside the point where Buddah’s mother gave birth to him 2,500 years ago under a tree. The tree had long gone. A stone marked the spot. King Ashoka erected a 6-meter stone rod in 245 B.C. On our way back we went for the 3-km cable ride to Manakamana Devi Temple. There are many beautiful stones along the Trisui River bank. It would be nice for rafting and stone picking.

Durban Square Casinos

There are three Durban Square Casinos at or near Kathmandu. We went to the one at Bhaktaur. There are many delicate wooden structures there. We (Taiwanese) were asked to pay a $10 admission fee, higher than Chinese and Indians pay (70 cents). Yak & Yeti gave us good cuts. We won about $10,000 from the blackjack table. My friend lost $11,000 at the baccarat table, however. He lost $4,000 at baccarat in one shoe, a sad contrast to a robbery of the casino cashier that day. The robber took $3,000, killing the clerk and wounding a security guard.

Everest Casino

Everest allowed us to bet up to the $2,100 table maximum. (Yak & Yeti allowed us to bet only $600 maximum). We lost $4,000 there. The dealer got 4 blackjacks on my last four hands at Yak & Yeti. I insured three. It was time to leave … or was it too late…?

Jailed on Trying to Leave Nepal

As we were leaving the country, at Customs, I declared for my friend. As we had lost overall in the casinos, I was taking less money out of Nepal than I’d come in with. The airport security found my money (which was not hidden). He asked for “proof” of my declaration, which I had not been given when I’d entered the country. (I had declared $26,000 when I’d entered Nepal, as requested on the Customs form. The Customs officer asked why I brought so much money in, and I said for gambling. He took my declaration form, shrugged and waived me away. He never gave me a duplicate of that form.)

I was taken to the Security Director’s Office who asked the Customs Director for the Declaration File. He said there was no record of my declaration! The Customs Director brought two empty forms with him. They asked for $4,000 for filling out the forms on the spot, and to release my $22,700 in “undeclared” funds. I refused to pay such a high bribe for a crime I didn’t commit.

It was Friday. Three armed guards took me to Customs Custody. All of my money was confiscated. Seven prisoners were sitting or lying on the 7-square-meter cell floor without blankets or pillows. Three of them were there for drunken fighting and two were drug offenders. There was no light in the cell. Prisoners had to buy their own food and water. I chose not to eat. The jailer gave me some bananas.

My girlfriend went to the casino for help. The casino management was very sympathetic and tried hard to rescue me. My friend also contacted the Chinese Embassy, which didn’t care about Taiwanese. I had about 70 bug bites on my feet after three nights in custody.

The Revenue Investigation Department had a 7-day interrogation period for my case. Seventeen customs and airport security guards fingerprinted me on my “catch report.” I was told they could share 20% of my “undeclared” money, which amounted to about five months of their combined salaries.

The Revenue Investigator asked for $650 (50,000 Nepal Rupees) for handling my case. I learned that several months ago a Taiwanese incurred similar charges and had paid the same amount. I was willing after three nights of hell, but would not pay in advance. The investigator said, “No money, no good report!” He said he had to share the bribe with 4 other people. I told him all my money had been confiscated. He suggested we borrow money from the casino host who accompanied us.

We finally gave him $150 as an advance. He recommended a only a one-year sentence. I was sent to a formal jail. There were bars at the entrance but not in the jail. About 250 prisoners lived in five big rooms circling a garden. The jail was designed for only 150 prisoners. Prisoners slept side by side. Each person had a space about 70 centimeters wide. We slept on the floor. A senior prisoner took me around telling me jail rules such as not sitting at certain spots.

The newcomers were required to clean toilets for some time. I could pay a $6 one-time charge if I didn’t want the work. After the initial donation, I needed to pay 50 cents every month.

Prisoners did not need do any work, but could make 60 cents a day making necklaces. The prisoners included girl traffickers (10 years), drug dealers (10 years), over-stayers (10 years), and murderers (20 years). The prisoner who slept beside me had sold his wife, sister, and MOTHER to India. Eight Tibetans, including three monks, were in the jail for going to India to see the Dalai Lama without a passport. There were also prisoners with similar cases to mine. I learned that most who had been victimized by the crooked Customs agents spent a month or so in prison, then were let out of the country empty handed.

Many prisoners could be released just by paying money. The Tibetans could be out of the jail any time just for paying about $1,500 each. They could then go to India after their release. If they could not come up with the money in 5 years, they would be sent to China where they would face three years in a labor camp and a $1,000 fine. The Tibetans helped me, generously giving me a bed sheet and blanket. Each prisoner was given a 24-cent food allowance plus 700 grams of rice per day. There was a food stand at the jail. Some prisoners would cook chickens or potato cakes for sale.

The casino gave my girlfriend a free room (for 3 months). She brought casino food to me everyday, including mineral water. The Casino’s Food and Beverage Manager was asked to coordinate the efforts in rescuing me. He cooked many delicious meals for me to share with the Tibetans.

The most difficult part of jail life was the boredom and the mosquitoes. A Czech prisoner left his mosquito net and a lam for me, which was a great relief. I borrowed some novels from the jail library and started writing my fifth book and a jail diary. Prisoners could buy most things from the jail. A British prisoner installed cable TV. He said he watched thousands of movies every year. I thought I would get out in a few days, then a few weeks, then months. A casino staff person arranged for my girlfriend to see the Attorney General, who was sympathetic but couldn’t help as the revenue case was beyond his authority.

On the 11th day of my imprisonment, the Nepal King went to visit China. The 12th day was my birthday and a Nepalese holiday celebrating the King’s China trip. This country found any excuse for a holiday. There was later a holiday for the birth of the Prince’s child.

On the 20th day, I went in handcuffs to the Special Court. Most revenue cases were settled on this day. I listened to the prosecutor describe how a first-time visitor like myself who had attempted to “smuggle” money out of the country deserved a one-year sentence.

I was taken to a separate room to wait for the judges’ decision. The court guard came for me after 20 minutes shaking head and raised two fingers. “Two what?” I thought. “Two months? Two years?” It turned out the court wanted testimonies from the airport security guards within two weeks. The jail guards said I was unfortunate and, “No decision was very typical in Nepal courts.”

Meanwhile, the Nepal King returned successfully from China on the 21st day. He got a $10 million grant from China. I hoped that would help his foreign reserve and spare me…

On the 26th day, the Special Court refused my bail. My lawyer applied to the Supreme Court, which was closed for annual maintenance. My girlfriend talked to the Nepal Tourism Board, which politely declined to help me. The Board’s mission was to pull in tourists, not help them after they were there.

I found I needed new holes on my belt after one month in jail. I would have lost more weight without the casino food. A Czech told me he had a bad stomach from drinking the jail water. I drank a 2-liter bottle of Coke everyday and became the bottle supplier in the jail. Most prisoners needed big bottles for storing water.

I got a place at the flat on the 35th day, when 27 prisoners were sent to a bigger jail. Thanks to the cigarettes I gave to the prisoner head, I got a wider, one-meter sleeping space. I learned that my mother had lost 4 kilos worrying about me, which was a shame as my mother was thin.

I heard many stories about the crooked Customs Department. A Nepoli returned with a gold chain. Customs charged him $150 tax. He said his brother worked at Customs. The guy got his name but collected the money anyway saying his brother would get a share. He found the Custom officer threw away his tax form and pocketed the money. My girlfriend arranged to see a judge in private. The judge would not take money from her and warned her not to give money to a broker. The judge said he would do his best but they were pressed to confiscate the money.

The regular days at the Nepal jail were, in fact, quite relaxing. A friend translated talks among the Nepolis for me. They said the jail life was better than their country life, as in the jail they had water, TV, and a roof.

There was one Nepoli prisoner who refused to leave and had to be thrown out. Another prisoner went in and out 21 times. Some were jailed for minor offences. A prisoner was jailed for 7 months for not paying a $16 fine.

The Supreme Court refused my bail on the 43rd day as part of my money was in traveler’s checks signed by others. This was really unreasonable as I was told on my later trip that traveler’s checks did not need to be declared. I was taken to the Special Court hearing. Airport security guards lied about me “hiding money in a belt.” There was never a belt and their testimony was in conflict with the original catch report.

I had to pay for the taxi to court and also had to buy lunches for the guards. Then I learned the Special Court did not, in fact, have the authority to make a decision on my case, as the government was considering its fate. 400 cases were withheld for two months.

Several Germans visited a Tibetan in the jail. They had read his letter soliciting help in a German newspaper. They said they would put up the money ($1,400) to bail him out. The Tibetan was excited and started packing. They never came for him. We learned that several days later a small plane had crashed at Pohara, a mountain town, and 14 German tourists were killed.

I ran out of interesting books and writing ideas on the 50th day. The jail time had exceeded my expectations. The British lent me some books and recommended some books for me to buy. It took me three to four days to finish one English novel at jail. The last book I had in jail was Tom Clancy’s Executive Order. I read half in jail, and finished the rest in half a year.

The Nepal Corruption Investigation Unit searched 22 Customs officers’ homes, including the Director of the Airport Customs Department. Tons of “undeclared” wealth was found. One customs clerk had the equivalent of 120 years’ salary at his home. I finally saw some light for my case.

The Nepal. jail supposedly housed the worst people of their society, but I felt no fear among the Nepal prisoners. While I was writing my diary, I could see seven prisoners making necklaces for 60 cents a day.

The 55th day was my scheduled court date but I knew it would be cancelled as the government had appointed three new judges for the Special Court. I did the regular jail routine: woke up late, brushed teeth for ten minutes, took turns for toilet (250 shared 4 toilets), walked around the garden, chatted, bathed, ate, washed clothes, watched locals sing and dance, waited for visitors, ate, brushed, went to bed at 9 pm. Most prisoners lived a similar life of just wasting time. The only difference for most prisoners after jail was that they were older. I thought training or some education for these prisoners would be a good investment for the society.

The new judges were finally settled in and set a date for my trial, which was then postponed for a big bank forgery case. A bank manager who was jailed for the bank case said I was lucky because I would get to leave Nepal eventually, while they were stuck for life. I received a new trial date on my 71st day in jail. There was an article in the newspaper about a girl who had been jailed for over six years because the decision paper on her case was missing.

I was found not guilty on the 75th day but I had to spend another night in jail, as I needed to report to the Immigration Department. A judge told me I had to wait 130 days for my money. He also said this was a small mistake and could happen in any country.

I was finally released after 76 days in jail. The jailer made one last effort to delay my release, as he said he could not find a guard to transport me to the Immigration Department ten minutes away. A guard appeared mysteriously after I bribed him $12! I needed a new visa but couldn’t get it as the Revenue Investigator who had confiscated my passport was not in his office. I got the visa the second day but was fined for two days’ late fee (one day for the court ruling time after the Immigration Department closed, one day for waiting for my visa).

I went back Nepal after 6 months for my money only to learn that it would take the Special Court four more months to write up my case’s decision paper. And I couldn’t get my money, as there was also a “waiting period” for the Attorney General’s Office to decide on appealing my case for the government. So I paid another bribe for the Court register to speed up my case… It seemed I had missed my last payment.

Two months later, a court broker sought me to tell me I could come for my money. I again returned to Nepal, but found again that the money was not there for me. He had conned me back to Nepal so that he could “broker” my case for me with the Attorney General’s Office. I declined his offer, as I didn’t trust any officials in Nepal any more.

I finally got my money back 10 months after my release from jail. I got $420 extra on local currency appreciation, but another $2,000 was missing. We went to the court to inquire about it. The money appeared mysteriously the second day. Despite the gracious help of the Nepal casinos and many nice Nepolis, I would never go back to Nepal. I hope (but doubt) I will be the last one suffering from Nepal’s crooked government officers. Up to my last trip to Nepal, there was still no mention of a declaration certification form at Customs, which means innocent tourists like myself can land at the Nepal jail at any Customs officer’s will.

I lost 15 kilos (33 pounds) during my 76 days in jail. What have I learned? First, bribe your way out on the spot. Second, be cautious in handling foreign currency exchanges, and get evidence of your declaration, especially in any uncivilized country. Third, if you come across a similar unfortunate experience, be calm and use your jail time effectively. Fourth, avoid traveling on Fridays. ♠

Your Ticket to the Big House (Part II)

by Thomas B. Duffy, Attorney at Law
(From Blackjack Forum XIV #2, June 1994)
© Blackjack Forum 1994

In the first part of this article, I discussed the laws of Nevada, Mississippi (which are verbatim from the Nevada Statute) and, to a lesser extent, New Jersey on the topic of playing blackjack with the assistance of a computer. In all three states, it is illegal. In Nevada and Mississippi, however, the statute’s use of the word “device” without any descriptive adjectives or definition causes the law to suffer from two serious constitutional infirmities: vagueness and overbreadth.

The law affecting blackjack computers is vague because it fails to put a person of reasonable intelligence on notice about exactly what is prohibited. (Recall Webster’s includes “stratagem,” like Basic Strategy, within the definition of “device.”) It is also overbroad because it could possibly apply to activities protected by the First Amendment like publishing information and books about blackjack strategies.

To refresh, let’s take another look at Miss. §75-76-303 and Nevada §465.075 (hereinafter “Nevada-type statute” will be used to describe this law):

It is unlawful for any person at a licensed gaming establishment to use, or possess with the intent to use, any device to assist:

1. In projecting the outcome of the game;
2. In keeping track of the cards played;
3. In analyzing the probability of the occurrence of an event relating to the game; or
4. In analyzing the strategy for playing or betting to be used in the game, except as permitted by the commission.

The New Jersey Statute §5:12-113.1, which is not constitutionally infirm, reads:

• A person commits a disorderly persons offense if, in playing a game in a licensed casino or simulcasting facility, the person uses, or assists another in the use of, an electronic, electrical or mechanical device which is designed, constructed, or programmed specifically for use in obtaining an advantage at playing any game in a licensed casino or simulcasting facility. A device used by any person in violation of this section shall be subject to forfeiture pursuant to the provisions of N.J.S. 2C:64-1 et seq.

Each casino licensee shall post notice of this prohibition and the penalties of this section in a manner determined by the commission.

The differences are easy to see. First, the New Jersey Statute describes the kinds of devices that are prohibited. Using your brain seems to be “O.K.”

Second, the device must also be “specifically” designed for “obtaining an advantage.” So using the calculator in your watch or a pad and pencil will not land you in the county jail.

Third, a warning must be posted to warn potential device users of their possible criminal liability. This is especially critical in a state, like New Jersey, where there was no law against devices until about three years ago.

Fourth, the user must be “playing a game” to offend the statute. Fifth, in a related vein, mere possession of a device, even with intent to use it, is not an offense. Finally, there is a serious question, probably unintended by the drafter, of whether the state must prove the device could actually have gained the user “an advantage.”

At roulette and baccarat, the casinos seem only too happy to have the players use pad and pencil to play fallacious systems. Many casinos even use electronic devices that display the last 50 to 100 numbers at the roulette table so players can find a “pattern.”

If a device were programmed with one of these fallacious systems, it would seem to be outside the statute. (In fact, if it were my casino, I would supply free batteries for these devices at the tables.) Based on this open acceptance of some “devices,” it seems only fair that the state should have to prove that the algorithm used had a statistical edge over the house.

Device Laws in Other States

The statutes from the states not covered in Part I, unfortunately for them, follow the Nevada-type statute. Colorado §12-47.1-824 is another exact duplicate. Illinois §230-10/18(d)(3) and Indiana §4-33- 10-2(3) substitute the word “a” for “any” before “device.” Still, these two statutes are virtually identical to the Nevada statute.

Iowa §99F.15(4)(c) begins, “Uses a device to assist in any of the following ….” and then lists the identical four subsections. This change is probably not as significant as it might seem. Possession with intent to use is very difficult to prove. As a practical matter, even under the “possession with intent” statutes, the state would probably not initiate prosecution unless they could also prove the defendant used the device. Still, the Iowa law gives defense attorneys more room to maneuver.

Furthermore, all of these Nevada-type statutes fail to define the word “device.” Although they do usually define “gambling device,” that definition is clearly inappropriate, having been meant to apply to slot machines, dealing shoes, playing cards and the like. The easiest way for these states to repair these constitutionally infirm statutes would be to define “device” using some of the New Jersey wording.

The penalties under these statutes are the only differences between them. Colorado imposes a 6-18 month term of imprisonment or $500- $5000 fine or both. The Illinois law carries a term of 1-3 years. Indiana imposes a sentence of at least 1 year and a fine of up to double the gain from the offense. Iowa imposes up to 5 years in prison and a fine of up to $7500 or both.

I am not admitted to practice in any of these states so I am only attempting to give you a general idea of the time you might face for using a computer in these jurisdictions. Most states have a presumption against incarceration for first offenders so you may be able to pay a (large) fine and the sentence will be suspended.

Conversely, most states also have repeat offender statutes which, in a worst case scenario, allow for life imprisonment given sufficient offenses. While not going that far, most of these statutes do have harsher penalties which are reserved for repeat offenders.

In case the reader believes that constitutional issues these Nevada-type statutes raise are the legal equivalent of 15th Century discussions about the number of angels on the head of a pin, at least one Illinois casino seems to instruct its dealers to tell players to put away basic strategy cards. I will note that, under the plain words of all these Nevada-type statutes except for Iowa’s, putting away the card does not end the player’s liability. He or she still “possesses” the card and has demonstrated an “intent” to use it.

Even if the player is allowed a warning, refreshing one’s recollection of the card in the bathroom or the restaurant could lead to liability because the player is still “using” the device “to assist” him or her while “at a licensed gaming establishment.”

This situation came to my attention via the following letter written by a subscriber to this magazine:

“[My wife] was using a basic strategy card. A dealer told her she could look at the card while he shuffled, but if she looked at it while playing she would be committing a felony…. I wonder what would happen if she wore one of those basic strategy chart T-shirts on the boat.:”

Indeed, I guess the casino would confiscate the young lady’s shirt, lending new meaning to the term “lose your shirt.” Mainly, I think this shows how stupid these vague and overbroad laws are. If it were my casino, I’d hand out (accurate) basic strategy cards at the door and at every table. Most players don’t mind losing, they just don’t want the other players laughing (or shouting) at them for not knowing how to play.

This kind of rude treatment of novice players is just plain bad business. Even a new player who eventually memorizes the Basic Strategy probably has a 1% (at most) chance of becoming a winning card counter, a 75%-85% chance of becoming a recreational losing player and a 10%-20% of becoming a compulsive gambler who will lose his or her life’s savings, house, car, etc. to the casino.

These are odds a card counter would take any day of the week — yet the casinos chase away the player with a strategy card. At the same time, the casinos moan and groan that young people don’t gamble as much as their parents or grandparents. Well, they’ve got to get their feet wet somewhere and, barring the outbreak of World War III, I doubt young people are going to get interested in gambling in the armed services, as prior generations did.

Computer Play in Louisiana and Other Foreign Places

Louisiana does not have an explicit statutory provision prohibiting the use of devices. La. §4:559 (for riverboats) and §4:664 (land casino), however, do contain the cheating statute, virtually identical to N.J. §5:12-113, prohibiting the use of a “fraudulent device” to win or attempt to win money.

I do not believe that Louisiana has a prayer of convicting a device user under this statute. After all, this provision was pilfered from New Jersey which had to pass the much more explicit §113.1, above, to outlaw devices. Furthermore, all of its sister states have passed specific, albeit defective, statutes in an attempt to outlaw devices. Given this great weight of authority, a general cheating statute cannot be used against predictive devices.

With all due respect to the residents of Louisiana, the state does have a reputation for putting politics before justice. I predict the political influence of the casinos in Louisiana will surpass the influence the casinos enjoy in Nevada in the near future. If the casinos want you convicted, you will probably be convicted.

Adding to this uncertainty is that “fraudulent” may not have the same meaning in Louisiana as in the other 49 states because its system of law is based on the French civil code. Still, their courts have to follow the U.S. Supreme Court and including a merely predictive device within the meaning of “fraudulent” is too vague to pass constitutional muster.

The main risk of being arrested under a general cheating or fraud statute (when there is no “device” statute), then, would be in foreign countries. While this risk would be less pronounced in a Common Law jurisdiction (any place such as the U.S., Canada, The Bahamas and Australia that follows the English system of law which is based on cases rather than civil codes), I have heard of players being charged with “fraud” for using computers in Common Law jurisdictions. Under the Common Law, fraud or deceit had 5 elements: 1) a false representation; 2) knowingly made by the defendant; 3) intended to induce reliance on the part of the victim; 4) reasonable reliance on the falsity by the victim; 5) loss to the victim from the reliance. For a criminal conviction, all 5 elements must be proven beyond a reasonable doubt.

Although a good argument could be waged for the defendant on all 5 elements, Elements 2, 3 & 5 will be conceded: the player knows about the use of the computer; such use is intended to create the impression, given the unusual plays computers often make, that the player is a sucker and not a winning player; if the player wins, the casino has lost money. On Element 1, the state will claim that the player walks up to the table and presents himself as a human being when he is, in fact, a virtual automaton.

This argument would carry some weight if the casino had the player sign a statement that he or she was unaided. Posting a sign that computers were prohibited by house rules would not help because disregarding unilaterally imposed rules does not create a “false representation.”

On Element 4, the state faces a very uphill fight. The casinos know about the existence of computers that can beat their games. Further, they know these devices can be concealed so that it is virtually impossible to tell a person is wearing one. Given these facts, it is not reasonable for the casino to assume that every person who sits down at a table is unaided by a device.

Be warned, though, that any jurisdiction, including Common Law jurisdictions, could have different elements for this offense. Under other systems of law, these elements could be totally different or the prosecutor may not have to prove the case beyond a reasonable doubt.

Frequent variations are the elimination of reasonable reliance on the part of the victim or substituting a negligence standard for the knowledge requirement in Element 2. The former variation is particularly significant because I have identified it as the best argument for the device user in the above analysis.

Blackjack Computers and Other Devices on the Indian Reservations

I make no representation about being expert about Indian law. I have read a (large) book on the subject in which the author kept emphasizing how confusing and uncertain the law in this area is.

If I recall, the U.S. Supreme Court has made three major flip-flops about the extent of Native American jurisdiction on their reservations. What I can tell you is that the Federal Indian Gaming Act does not prohibit such devices, but then it does not prohibit cheating at the games either.

This messy area of jurisdiction over the games was left to be ironed out in gaming compacts between the Native American Tribes and the state in which their casino is located. My impression is that all the tribes turn cheats over to the state for prosecution under state law.

Most, if not all, of these states have not passed anti-cheating statutes, like N.J. §5:12-113, let alone anti-device statutes. As a result, the state would probably charge the device user with theft by deception (which does not include Element 4, above) or some other fraud analog.

I believe most prosecutors and judges would laugh this charge out of court. They would ask: Where’s the misrepresentation? Did the casino at least put a sign up that computers were prohibited? (On this point, I would like to hear from readers about any such signing at Indian casinos.) Still, there is a risk of prosecution and conviction, mainly due to political factors à la Louisiana.

Caveat

I have tried to put most of the applicable caveats in the body of this article. The main issue I wish to warn the reader about is that I have not studied the casino regulatory body’s rules for any of the jurisdictions above with the exception of New Jersey, Nevada and Mississippi.

These rules (as opposed to laws) can have the force of law if the legislature so chooses. It is possible the legislature has granted regulators the power to define some offenses in these rules. See, e.g., Colorado § 12-47.1-302(g) (can define “[a]ctivities which constitute fraud, cheating, or illegal or criminal activities”). I can tell you that in the three states I have studied, the regulators have no such power to define criminal offenses.

As for using “devices” on Indian reservations and in foreign countries, there are just so many possibilities no general rule could apply. I highly recommend a consultation with a gaming attorney who is familiar with these issues. If you go to a general practitioner, you will end up paying hundreds of dollars for attorney’s time just to get the attorney up to speed.

Even if a gaming attorney is not familiar with the jurisdiction in question, he or she will be able to direct a research attorney from that jurisdiction to relevant sources of law, saving time and money. Furthermore, the research attorney will typically do the work at a professional courtesy rate (yes, I’ve heard all the shark jokes), saving the client additional money. If you would like me to provide such a consultation, feel free to call me at (609) 646-4100.

If you do not play for high enough stakes to make such a consultation worthwhile, my best advice is to leave the blackjack or other type of gambling computer at home when abroad.

First, you can still play with your brain and win a goodly fraction of what you could win with the computer. Second, you will be free from risk of arrest and prosecution, allowing you to enjoy your vacation. Third, you won’t have the nosy customs people thinking the computer contains accounting information for the Colombian Drug Cartel. In any case, good luck with or without a “device.”

Thomas Duffy is a New Jersey attorney who specializes in representing players versus casinos. ♠

The World’s Foremost Blackjack Authority

by Arnold Snyder
(From Blackjack Forum Volume XXIV #2, Spring 2005)
© 2005 Blackjack Forum

I’m willing to bet that when you saw the title of this Sermon, you immediately assumed that I was about to launch an attack on some pompous, pedantic fool who is laying claim to that overblown, stuffed-shirt title. Your assumption is wrong.

In fact, I am here to make a feeble attempt at defending the honor of that man.

Any of you who may soon pick up a copy of the new 2005 edition of my book, Blackbelt in Blackjack, will discover – as I just did when I finally opened my box of author’s copies – that the back cover of the book touts yours truly – in bold, 36-point Helvetica type – as “The World’s Foremost Blackjack Authority.”

Oh, no!

I am trying to imagine the look on Wong’s face when he first sees a copy. Or Thorp’s, Grosjean’s, Hyland’s, Francesco’s. Or Braun, Wilson, Revere, Uston, or Griffin up at the Great Blackjack Table Beyond.

And how can I possibly show my face at the next Blackjack Ball? How can I take the ribbing? How will I ever survive the party to come in Fight Club?

How in the world did this situation ever come to pass?

A few weeks before the book went to press, I got a PDF file from the publisher that showed that bombastic back cover text. I called him.

“Avery,” I said, “you can’t call me the world’s foremost blackjack authority.”

“Why not?”

“Because all my friends will laugh at me for claiming a title like that. I don’t think of myself as the world’s foremost authority on the game. I can think of half a dozen players I call when I have a question.”

“You’re not calling yourself the world’s foremost blackjack authority, Arnold. I’m calling you the world’s foremost blackjack authority. If you pick up a copy of my book, it says: ‘Avery Cardoza, the World’s Foremost Blackjack Authority.’ Now that I’m publishing your book, you’re the world’s foremost blackjack authority.”

“But it’s not my style, Avery. Look, I have to be firm on this.”

“I’ll see what I can do, Arnold. By the way, can you send me some endorsements I can use on the cover?”

“I hate endorsements, Avery. I don’t want a lot of hype.”

“Just a few quotes, Arnold,” he said. “Something to help guide the decision of the average Walmart shopper.”

“I’ll see what I can do, Avery.”

I made exactly three phone calls to collect endorsements. I called Howard Schwartz at the Gambler’s Book Shop; Max Rubin, author of Comp City; and Richard Munchkin, author of Gambling Wizards. All three provided some very nice verbiage, and I emailed their quotes to my publisher.

A week later, he sends me another PDF file, this time with two endorsements, the one by Howard Schwartz, and another by Avery Cardoza.

I emailed Avery and asked him where the other endorsements were.

He emailed back another PDF file of the inside title page, which included endorsements from Jerry Patterson and Stanley Roberts! (But no Rubin or Munchkin…)

I called him.

“Avery,” I said, “Where did you get these quotes from Patterson and Roberts?”

“They were on your other book,” he said.

“Avery, those were taken from my first book, the Blackjack Formula, which came out in 1980. Believe me, you don’t want those quotes from Patterson and Roberts!”

“They’re big names,” he said.

“What happened to the quotes I sent you from Max Rubin and Richard Munchkin?”

“Who are they?” he said. “I never heard of them.”

“Avery,” I said. “You cannot use that quote from Jerry Patterson on my book.”

“Why not?”

“Because in 1982, he started selling this system called TARGET, and for more than 20 years, I’ve been telling players they can’t trust anything he says!”

“He’s a big name, Arnold.”

“No! And please don’t use the quote by Stanley Roberts either. Not only is it 25 years old, he used to call himself blackjack’s ‘Grandmaster.’ Now he’s just publishing a poker tabloid. He has nothing to do with blackjack.”

“I’ll see what I can do, Arnold… He’s a big name. That’s a great quote.”

I thought back 20 years, when I got a call from Julian Braun. He was very distressed. His first (and only) book was about to come out, and he was calling to tell me that he did not write the chapter on money management. “The chapter was written by my publisher, Arnold,” he said. “It’s just a worthless betting system. He didn’t like my betting advice, and he felt that players would win more if they bet according to trends of wins and losses. But my name is on that book, and everyone is going to think I wrote that chapter.”

In any case, the new 2005 Blackbelt in Blackjack is now out. Thankfully, the endorsement from Jerry Patterson is gone, and the endorsements from Rubin and Munchkin have been added. But the endorsement from Stanley Roberts was not taken off. After 25 years, ol’ Stanley is still calling me a genius. Thanks, Stan. I had a few anxious moments as I frantically leafed through the book to see if any “money management” chapter had been added with a betting progression system.

No, the inside text of the book is mine.

But there it is, still on the back cover, “The World’s Foremost Blackjack Authority,” along with some other stuff I will probably never live down.

Sorry, Ed, Julian, Tommy, Al, Ken, Nick, Deep… You guys were just a bit slow on grabbing the title. In this business, if you snooze, you lose.♠

What Happens When You Bar a Card Counter?

by Arnold Snyder
(From Blackjack Forum Volume XXII #4, Winter 2002/03)
© 2002 Blackjack Forum

I am a conspiracy theory nut. I admit it. In fact, I’m proud to admit it. The history of man is littered with hare-brained conspiracies, but people just never see the lunacy that pervades their society. There is a known reason for this mass myopia: Humans, as a species, are slow learners.

Here’s how the Witch Hunt Conspiracy Theory goes:

If we want to soak the masses for bundles of money, we convince them that they have a mortal enemy that we must eliminate. Essentially, we scare the crap out of the rubes. We then begin to hunt down this evil entity mercilessly, knowing that a witch hunt inevitably creates more witches.

This is the central theorem of the Witch Hunt Conspiracy Theory. We do not need a real enemy, we simply start hunting down any minority group of the population that we insist is a mortal threat to us all. Those foolish enough to sympathize with the victims publicly are simply setting themselves up to be hunted. This increase in the witch population keeps us in business, and the rubes more scared than ever.

Since time began, this has been the way that every power freak has operated. From Attila the Hun to Saddam Hussein, from Prince Machiavelli to Hitler, from Nero to Stalin, the program is always the same.

Starting in the 1600s and continuing for a century or so sporadically, alleged “witches” were persecuted by the Church throughout Europe and America. They were hunted, captured, imprisoned, tortured and murdered, all in the name of saving mankind from their evil ways.

What is ironic about this era of history is that the witch hunters were the so-called “Christians,” a group whose existence came about as a result of the Romans trying to eliminate them some centuries before by feeding them to lions and otherwise slaughtering them in public. This Roman witch hunt, as expected, simply created more Christians. In fact, this Christian persecution went on so long and so viciously that Christians inevitably became the dominant group wherever they had once been hunted, with their worldwide headquarters located in… let me guess… Rome?

These days, nobody tortures Christians or witches, but the damage has been done. Christians today are infesting every corner of the world, and witches have their own web sites. Although we may still want to feed the Christians to wild animals, we don’t. We know they won’t go away, so we just turn the channel, ignore them, and let them live out their folly. Likewise, we allow the witches to set up their magical herb shops, sell each other crystal amulets, display “My Other Car is a Broom” bumper stickers, and dance under the full moon to their hearts’ content. Just leave us out of it.

In more recent times, we can look at the Communist witch hunt of the McCarthy era. Artists and intellectuals were hunted down simply for having contrary political opinions and exercising their right to free speech. What did these shameful inquisitions in the 50s lead to? Welcome to the 60s, the nationwide explosion of contrary political opinions and free speech, with lunatic fringe artists and writers the most prominent and revered members of society.

Then there’s the so-called “war on drugs.” This has been going on for what… forty years? Don’t get me started. As Bishop of the First Church of Blackjack, it’s not my job to cure the world of its ills, only to explain to you, my followers, how everything that happens in the universe relates to the simple card game that we regard as a Sacrament. Which leads us to the “card counter problem.”

We might wonder if the casinos will ever realize that their barring experiment has failed? Won’t it ever dawn on them that they cannot get rid of professional players simply by barring them from the tables? Are there actually intelligent life forms within the casino industry who do not realize that their witch hunt for professional players only leads to more professional players?

Don’t kid yourselves, my people. As in every witch hunt throughout history, those at the top know that the witch hunt itself creates more witches. The Romans were trying to fill a Coliseum, for Christ’s sake (pun intended). They had a lot of tickets to sell, and they needed a never-ending supply of lion food.

It is the persecution of the professional players that is directly responsible for the gambling craze that has swept the nation, and the world. The casinos have a lot of seats to fill and they know they can only draw the big crowds if they persecute the “witches” that are infiltrating their gaming pits. The minuscule handful of actual pros, who are labeled a threat to the industry’s very existence, are in fact the reason the industry exists at all. Because of the forty-year witch hunt for card counters, there are more pro gamblers today than ever before in the history of gambling. Witch hunts NEVER eliminate witches; they ALWAYS multiply the witch population.

For example:

Let’s say I’m a professional keno player. I know this sounds crazy but at one time the term “professional blackjack player” sounded just as crazy. So let’s just presume I’ve come up with the secret of chaos theory that makes the keno numbers predictable.

As a normally greedy person in this society, I’m content to win what I consider a livable wage for my efforts, say half-a-million a year. I’m smart and I don’t want anyone else to think my keno wins are based on anything other than luck. So, I spread my keno wins around to different casinos and I keep my secret to myself, just trying to stay under the radar.

I’m going on this way for a few years, pleased with my easy life, until some casino surveillance agents get together and compare notes, and realize I’m beating them all. Now, if the casinos wanted to keep the keno status quo, what’s the smartest action they could take to keep their losses at this game minimized?

If they acted with intelligence, they would keep it under their hats, tell no one, and just keep watching me to see if they could figure out what I was doing. Perhaps they could figure out a way to change the game so I couldn’t beat it anymore.

What is absolutely the worst action they could take?

Bar me.

Why is that a stupid reaction?

Consider… as long as I am making a good living at this occupation, it is in my best interest to keep my secret to myself. If everybody starts beating keno, the game will cease to be profitable for the casinos and they will eliminate it, or change it, possibly in some fundamental way that negates my edge. There goes my free lunch. It’s also in my best interest to keep my own wins controlled to what I actually want for myself, so as to keep suspicions down and the game profitable for the casinos for years to come.

But what happens when I’m barred?

Here I have the secret to beating keno, and I have just been told I can no longer play keno. My name and photo have been posted in every casino in the world that offers keno. I get trespassed every time I try to enter a joint. Soon, my disguises and fake IDs wear thin. I am hunted, persecuted; I have become a keno witch.

Do you think I will just go back to pushing a pencil at the bank for chicken feed? Or is there some possibility that I might decide to train others to play keno for me? Of course, this team of keno players I put together will have to paid, and they will have to be paid very well so that they don’t decide to strike out on their own, or sell my secret to others.

They will also have to start taking enough money out of the casinos that I can still make my half-mill per year, as a percentage over and above what they take. As they are also picked off by the casinos and barred, which is inevitable, like me they also will not want to go back to their dead-end jobs when they are no longer allowed in the keno lounges. What was at one time a half-million-dollar per year cost for the entire casino industry worldwide, becomes a multi-multi-million-dollar problem that every casino must now cope with by hiring chaos theory experts.

These experts will be designing expensive computer analysis programs to recognize the signs of a professional player’s keno card. Keno runners will be studying mug books before they make their rounds. And Olaf Vancura will be simultaneously hawking his Keno KO book and furiously trying to invent a ping-pong ball for Mikohn Gaming that violates the laws of physics.

If only the casinos would have just let me alone with my system, just watched me, never spread the word that keno was vulnerable to intelligent strategic attack, the cost to the industry would have been minimized to my play, and controlled to a known quantity. So, why wouldn’t they do this?

Are you forgetting a crucial element of the central witch hunt theorem? Those at the top know. Your average surveillance or pit critter may think he’s “protecting” the game by chasing out a counter. This is what he’s hired to do. He’s not hired to think about the effects of a witch hunt; he’s simply hired to hunt witches. But the actual purpose of his job is to create more witches.

Before the card counter hunts began forty years ago, professional gamblers were a more discreet bunch than they are today. None of them told their secrets. Occasionally, a gambler would take some neophyte under his wing to act as a partner, and he’d show him the ropes, a few of the moves, perhaps introduce him to a few other players, but this was a small circle of friends who had a common interest in keeping their methods to themselves.

In the old days, pros did play against each other on occasion—may the best con win. After the game, the loser would bow to the winner as a professional courtesy, and they would each go their respective ways. Often, this was how a lesser pro would learn new tricks. Pros often carried guns and knives to defend themselves, but this was not so much a defense against other pros as against the robbers who hung around the big games looking for an easy score, or the rubes who might turn into sore losers and try to take some drastic action.

But every big gambling team in the modern (post Thorp) history of blackjack—from the old Uston teams, to the Hyland group, to MIT, to CORE, to the Greeks, et al.—was started by pros who had been personally hounded away from the tables, and had to train groups of players to do what they had been doing so they wouldn’t have to go back to the nine-to-five gig.

By employing the witch hunt mechanism, casinos turned professional gambling into big business. They built their games around many of the same cons that gamblers have always depended upon, and their theory of beating their opponents is virtually identical. They build in an “edge” that makes the games appear fair in any short run, but always delivers the money to them in the long run.

As businesses, casinos compete against each other for customers (marks), but they don’t actually play against each other at their tables. There are tales about how some of the early legends (real gamblers) of the Nevada casino industry—Benny Binion, Bill Harrah, Harold Smith, etc.—would occasionally wander into a competing casino and try to take a bundle out at the crap table or blackjack table, but this was never the normal way for casinos to compete, and it’s not happening at all today. Kirk Kerkorian does not try to beat Donald Trump by showing up at the Taj Mahal to play high stakes baccarat. (Okay, so there’s Kerry Packer—but he’s so rich he can afford to be the exception that proves the rule.)

Casinos are not, in fact, professional gamblers. They do not gamble. They are in the business of taking money from those who want to be gamblers. They know they can’t beat the real pros, but by persecuting the pros, they create more pros, and a huge population of wannabe pros and pro sympathizers.

Of course, those at the top must always remember what happened in Rome. The persecution went on so long and so hard that the Christian population reached critical mass; there came a time when there were more Christians than Romans. Once a witch population exceeds the population of the dominant group, the witch population takes over, and they begin to create, and hunt, witches of their own.

What will happen when the professional gambler population reaches critical mass? When the First Church of Blackjack is the ruling body of this industry? Hang in there, gang. Our day will come. We’ll all live to see the Trumps and the Icahns and the Kerkorians on their knees. Gaming Control will answer to us for their sins. And despite being a Bishop, I’m just not feeling very merciful. ♠