Today’s story starts off completely true about a recent meeting I had. About half-way through, I’ll veer into fiction because I didn’t think of the right things to ask until after the meeting was over. So, I’m going to list the questions I should have asked. And I won’t presume to give his answers to these questions, although I will forward the article to him and maybe we’ll continue the conversation later.
A valued decades-long friend has a son, John, who just graduated from the University of Nevada Reno. John got a job as a slot analyst at a large Reno casino, and the father asked me if I would speak to John about the gambling world. The father thinks, probably correctly, the son has stopped listening to him. So Bonnie, John, and I had a dinner meeting.
John told me his girlfriend was a senior at UNR, and he hoped to marry her. For the next year, at least, he was planning to stay in Reno, but after that, he could go anywhere.
The first “casino business” thing we spoke about was the recent tax bill, the uncertainty about whether it will be modified, and my plans to give up gambling effective January 1 should it not be modified. (Should this be news to the reader, I discussed it at length in this column about a month ago.)
At this point, John told me that if I wanted to pass along my knowledge before I retire with all my secrets, he’s willing to be my student. And starting with the next question, things get fictionalized.
I asked him, “Is being a professional gambler a lifelong dream of yours? Or maybe you’ve heard that I’ve been successful and you just want to be rich?”
John gave a sheepish grin and said maybe a bit of both.
“How long has being a professional gambler been a dream of yours — and what have you done to prepare yourself for such a career?”
He admitted that it hasn’t been a dream that’s been on the front burner, and he really hasn’t done anything to prepare himself.
“How much bankroll do you have? What I mean is how much money could you lose without it being a major burden on your way of life?”
John said he had essentially no bankroll and he had some student loans that would need to be addressed soon.
“The complete answer is pretty long, but the bottom line is you’re not a very good candidate to be a professional gambler.”
I then spelled out my pretty long answer.
First, you need a bankroll. Just starting a marriage and bringing along student debt for at least one of you is not the best time to be saving 40% of your income for future gambling purposes.
Speaking of marriage, if being a professional gambler hasn’t been discussed with your bride to be, it’s possible that it could be a showstopper with respect to whom she wants to marry. If not specifically for her, maybe her family.
Second, being a professional gambler is a way of thinking. Most of us were playing strategic games for a long time before we gambled at it. Were you good at chess, scrabble, Minecraft, or any other games where strategy is a prerequisite?
Third, I’m leaving gambling because I think I can’t make a living at it under the new tax law. Do you think following my methods can lead you to success when I think those methods won’t work anymore under the new law? I could be wrong, of course, but are you willing to bet you know more than I do about this?
Fourth, succeeding at video poker is a lifelong process. I’ve been playing more than 30 years and am still learning things. This is not a profession where you can read a couple of books and be set for life. Are you a lifelong student sort of guy?
Fifth, the best professional gamblers are much smarter than average. Genius isn’t required, but being smarter than the casino employees who decide which games and which promotions to offer is useful. Does this describe you?
Sixth, successful professional gamblers often change games they play if situations change. Video poker itself is reasonably well understood by most casino slot directors and few casinos offer lucrative opportunities for players. I’ve found some, but who knows how long they will last and who knows how long my welcome will last. It’s very possible that in ten years the successful video poker players of today will be playing gambling games that haven’t even been invented yet.
I’ll leave this fictionalized conversation off for now, although I’ll continue it in next week’s blog, and just surmise that John’s last response was a polite, “Well, Bob, you’ve given me a lot to think about.”
