Bonnie and I recently cruised the Mexican Riviera on NCL, courtesy of Penn National — in particular M Resort. We’ve vacationed several times on the same cruise line courtesy of Harrah’s/Caesars, but this time it was from somewhere else.
I packed a lot of M logo shirts — of which I have dozens. Perhaps two or three times per week, M offers free gifts — such as shirts or alcohol, sometimes higher-end stuff. I rarely go down to pick up these gifts. It’s ten miles away; it causes another trip which can lower my mailer; and how much do I need another T-shirt anyway? A few times a year, however, they have a “Warehouse Blowout” event on a Sunday, where they “give away” unclaimed items. Depending on your tier level, you get one, two, or three tickets for free and you can earn another four tickets for play that day. If you do “play up” for extra tickets, you also qualify for a free Sunday lunch buffet — which is a quality meal at this casino.
Once inside, you spend your tickets on whatever you like — keeping in mind that the pickings are pretty slim (leftover alcohol rarely finds its way to these events). Often neither Bonnie nor I can find stuff we can’t live without, so T-shirts and polo shirts (for which you get two shirts for one ticket) are our default. More than once I’ve brought home eight or ten shirts.
On the ship, a senior couple, “Marge” and “Ed,” recognized the shirt I was wearing and told me they lived in Henderson, which is in the greater Vegas area. They played Double Double Bonus and told me the casino they played at, Emerald Island, had the 9/6 version on a 100-coin penny machine — a level at which they were comfortable. “We’re retired, you know, the casino is close to home, and they give us free food.”
“That’s fine,” I told them. “The game is costing you a penny a hand on average, assuming you play well, offset by whatever food they give you. It sounds like low-cost entertainment.”
“What do you mean ‘play well?’” Marge asked. “It’s pretty much common sense.”
“Every hand has a mathematically correct play. Let me ask you some basic ones,” I said. “How would you play A♠ Q♥ J♣ 7♦ 4♣?” I knew the correct choice was QJ, but many DDB players hold just the ace. Occasionally some players without a clue hold AQJ.
“I’d throw them all away,” Marge announced.
Whoa! This shows a fundamental misunderstanding of how the game is played. I wasn’t sure how to tell her that without insulting her.
“No,” I told her. “That’s not close. Sorry.”
“How do you know?” she asked.
“Computer programs tell you how to play every hand. Over time I’ve learned correct plays,” I told her.
“I’ve never heard of that,” Ed said.
“Do you guys own a PC?” I asked. They did. My computer, with Video Poker for Winners installed, was in my cabin. I was willing to spend a few minutes showing them — but if they hadn’t owned a computer there was no hope that they’d remember enough hints to make a difference.
When we got to my cabin, I let the computer deal hands just to see where they were. I had it set on “Advanced” so the hands were tougher than average. I didn’t do this to be mean — it’s just that they are more interesting. Having the computer ask them if they know how to play Q♥ Q♣ 7♦ 7♠ 7♥ is a waste of their time and mine.
One hand was K♠ Q♥ J♣ 9♣ 7♣. This is not a beginner level hand. Not all players would correctly play KQJ9. Some would hold KQJ and other hold J97. But not Ed and Marge.
“I’d hold king jack,” Ed told me. “Holding queens is always unlucky.”
“And I’d throw them all away,” Marge chimed in.
These were both awful decisions
Next was K♦T♦7♦ 6♠ 3♥. Ed held the KT and Marge held the K. Both wrong, but at least reasonable. They didn’t come close on three of the next five hands we tried.
There are some people who just aren’t smart enough to play intelligent video poker. I concluded I was talking to two of them. I didn’t suggest they buy the Winner’s Guide for the game because I think it would have been incomprehensibly difficult for them.
I did suggest they get the software. I told them that if they practiced a couple of hours a week before they played, and attempted to play like the computer recommended, they would save more than a thousand dollars a year.
Marge was doubtful. “I’ve seen people use strategy cards, including some with your name on them,” she told me. “They don’t do any better than anybody else.”
I asked Marge if she knew for sure how well she and Ed were doing gambling-wise this year. She didn’t. “Keeping records is too much like work. We’re retired, you know.”
I wanted to ask her how she could possibly know that somebody else was doing better or worse than she was if she didn’t even know how well she was doing? Surely, she had no strong knowledge of how the other person was doing either.
But I didn’t. I did tell them that strategy cards worked well if you practiced with them and used them regularly.
I also told her that I’d be teaching beginner DDB at the South Point, probably in January. I invited them and promised it would help them a lot. Although the DDB class is for beginners, they would probably still find it too difficult.
They left with a “we’ll think about it.” (I know what that means! It means I should assume 10-1 odds against them showing up for class.)
Playing video poker intelligently isn’t for everybody. It takes a certain level of the right kind of intelligence. Not everybody has a chance to succeed.