What aren’t the dice doing? To answer that, remember that dice are cubes. Casino dice are the most perfect cubes ever made outside of a scientific laboratory. They are within 1/10,000 of an inch of perfection. The operators use micrometers and balances to ensure they are “on the square.” They are perfectly balanced. The spots weigh the same as the die, as the material used to make the spots has the same density as the material used to make the rest of the die. They are translucent. Loads or BB’s can’t be used to throw off the die’s weight because you can see inside the die. Right out of their packaging, casino dice’s edges and corners are sharp enough to draw blood from slow and inexperienced hands on the game. Casino dice are as close to beauty and perfection as it gets inside a casino.
The reason dice are so perfect is because they are the Random Generators for the game. Their behavior determines the outcome of the game, and the amount of money the house will eventually win, even though the operators realize only a slight mathematical advantage on the game. This advantage, called the House Advantage (HA), is calculated by observing the percentage of difference between Natural Odds and Payoff Odds.
Natural Odds are the real probabilities of what the dice will do. Dice have six sides, so two dice have thirty-six combinations. This is expressed by the formula C=x^y, whereby C = number of combinations, x = number of sides, and y = number of dice. Of those thirty-six combinations, only one of them is 6-6, (total = 12, herein referred to by the total…). This means that if you bet that the dice are going to roll a 12, the chances are thirty-five to one against. Thirty-five combinations are losers, and one combination is the winner. Natural Odds are 35-1.
Here’s where it gets complicated. Instead of paying 35-1 for a bet on the 12, the operators only pay 30-1. This is the difference between Natural Odds and Payoff Odds.
And what a big difference it is. It’s this difference that we call the House Advantage, (HA). The HA is calculated as the difference between the two different sets of odds, expressed as a percentage. The way to calculate the HA is pretty easy. Take the difference between the Natural Odds and the Payoff odds and calculate the percentage therein. In the case of 12 Craps, Natural Odds = 35, and Payoff Odds = 30. 35-35=5. 5/35 equals 0.1428. That’s the same way as saying 14.28% HA. That means that the operators realize a whopping 14.28% advantage on every dollar bet on 12 Craps. That’s a HUGE number. Even when the player wins, he loses!
But the house doesn’t always realize such a large win with the game of Craps. Only the proposition bets will gouge the money out of your wallet like that. The rest of the bets, such as the Pass Line, and the Don’t Pass Line, only realize a little over 1% HA. This low HA is comparable to Baccarat, whose claim to fame is the lowest HA of them all: ergo, Craps’ popularity to those who know something about HA. Those who know about HA make the bets which have the least hold; they make the bets that are the closest to Natural Odds to minimize the house’s advantage. They leave the long shots to the amateurs.
And it’s the long shots that invite the cheap shots.
Imagine the radical change in HA if one die were not to roll, as is the Scooter’s expertise. The Scooter doesn’t have to slide both dice for the team to realize a massive advantage. Instead, they change the Natural Odds of occurrences to their favor, and bet accordingly. If the Scooter kills a 6 on one of the dice, the Natural Odds of 12 Craps being rolled goes from 35-1 to 5-1, while the payoff remains 30-1. Bets on Yo Eleven, whose natural odds are 17-1 with payoffs of 15-1, and bets in the Field, which pay on rolls of 2, 3, 4, 9, 10, 11, and 12 all become very lucrative because their Natural Odds also fall to 5-1 and 1-2 respectively.
The Scooter slides one of the dice so as to change the Natural Odds of occurrances, and the Fat Man block and distracts.
All that’s left now is how to take advantage of the shift in Natural Odds. For that, we need The Money.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
A Swindle, of Sorts... pt. 8
The second member of the team is called the Scooter, thus named because this member “scoots” the dice, rather than make them roll legitimately. A legitimate toss of the dice causes the dice to tumble and bounce of the back rail of the dice table. A die tumbles when it flips top over bottom. This action is what most people call “rolling.” The difference is that dice don’t roll because they are not round. Balls and cylinders are round; they roll. Dice and bricks are square; they tumble. Scooting the dice is the same as sliding them. They don’t tumble, they scoot.
The Scooter is an expert at sliding the dice. He stands to the stickman’s immediate left. When it’s his turn to shoot the dice, he can scoot them to the other end of the table and the dice will never tumble. Scooting both dice sounds impressive, and it sounds like the stuff movies are made of, but that only happens in the movies. Our Scooter only scoots one die. We’ll get back to that in a bit.
Dealers love it when the players make bets for them. They get to keep the money they win. Some nights this could amount to $20 a man, on other nights it could be $2,000 a man. Players make bets for the dealers for a variety of reasons. Some do it because it’s lucky. Other’s do it because they know the boss doesn’t pay the dealers much more than minimum wage. The dealers often ask the players to make bets for them, because they have mouths to feed, college tuitions to pay for, and an innate desire to be a part of the action.
Big tippers are called Georges. And the Scooter is very much a George. He likes to make bets for the dealers because he is such a nice guy. But he doesn’t make bets for all the dealers. He only makes bets for the stickman. He doesn’t make bets for the stickman because it brings him luck, nor because the stickman asked him for a bet. He doesn’t even know the stickman. In fact, he doesn’t care at all for the stickman. The Stickman’s job is to watch the dice. The Stickman must never take his eyes off the dice, not even for a split-second. All these bets the Scooter makes for the stickman are “last-second hunch” bets, and he makes them at the last second so as to distract the stickman the split-second he scoots the dice.
The scooter picks up the dice with one hand, makes ready to shoot them, and tosses the stickman a buck to bet for himself with his other hand. When the stickman looks at the money the Scooter tossed him, the Scooter lets loose with the dice, scooting one of them along the way. The Stickman sees the dice go flying and immediately resumes his duties of watching the dice. Just as the dice go flying past the Stickman, the Fat Man hastily leans over the table and presses his bets, using his belly to further block the Stickman’s view of the scooting die. These combined, last-second actions blind the Stickman and the second Base Dealer’s view of what the dice are doing, or rather, not doing.
The Scooter is an expert at sliding the dice. He stands to the stickman’s immediate left. When it’s his turn to shoot the dice, he can scoot them to the other end of the table and the dice will never tumble. Scooting both dice sounds impressive, and it sounds like the stuff movies are made of, but that only happens in the movies. Our Scooter only scoots one die. We’ll get back to that in a bit.
Dealers love it when the players make bets for them. They get to keep the money they win. Some nights this could amount to $20 a man, on other nights it could be $2,000 a man. Players make bets for the dealers for a variety of reasons. Some do it because it’s lucky. Other’s do it because they know the boss doesn’t pay the dealers much more than minimum wage. The dealers often ask the players to make bets for them, because they have mouths to feed, college tuitions to pay for, and an innate desire to be a part of the action.
Big tippers are called Georges. And the Scooter is very much a George. He likes to make bets for the dealers because he is such a nice guy. But he doesn’t make bets for all the dealers. He only makes bets for the stickman. He doesn’t make bets for the stickman because it brings him luck, nor because the stickman asked him for a bet. He doesn’t even know the stickman. In fact, he doesn’t care at all for the stickman. The Stickman’s job is to watch the dice. The Stickman must never take his eyes off the dice, not even for a split-second. All these bets the Scooter makes for the stickman are “last-second hunch” bets, and he makes them at the last second so as to distract the stickman the split-second he scoots the dice.
The scooter picks up the dice with one hand, makes ready to shoot them, and tosses the stickman a buck to bet for himself with his other hand. When the stickman looks at the money the Scooter tossed him, the Scooter lets loose with the dice, scooting one of them along the way. The Stickman sees the dice go flying and immediately resumes his duties of watching the dice. Just as the dice go flying past the Stickman, the Fat Man hastily leans over the table and presses his bets, using his belly to further block the Stickman’s view of the scooting die. These combined, last-second actions blind the Stickman and the second Base Dealer’s view of what the dice are doing, or rather, not doing.
A Swindle, of Sorts... pt. 7
In the real work, the three members of the enterprise arrive at the table at different times, usually staggered by five or ten minutes. The first member to arrive on the live game is the Fat Man.
The Fat Man is called the Fat Man because he is fat. His beer belly extends forward a distance of one or two feet, and when positioned correctly, it can block out the sun. Because of the height of the railing on the dice table and the size of the Fat Man’s girth, when the Fat Man leans over the table’s rail, his belly can block the stickman’s view of the entire half of the table onto which the dice are thrown. To do this effectively, the Fat Man plays the position on the table directly at the Stickman’s right-hand side. The Fat Man stands close enough to the Stickman so that their elbows would touch were they both to extend them.
While the Fat Man’s waist measurement is of considerable interest, it’s his style of play that defines his expertise and contribution to the enterprise. The Fat Man plays Place Bets on the Inside or just the Six and Eight. He also raises his bets on “last-second hunches.” It’s his action of raising his bets at the “last-second” that allows him to use his belly to block the Stickman’s view of the dice as the land on that side of the table. Just as the shooter is releasing the dice, the Fat Man leans across the table with a handful of chips and yells, “Raise my Six and Eight!!!” and slams his chips on the layout in a messy pile. The Stickman cannot see the dice being tossed, as the Fat Man’s belly blocks his entire view, and the baseman is too concerned with the Fat Man’s last-second, slapdash demand to pay any attention to what the dice do, or rather, what the dice don’t do.
What the dice “don’t do” defines the second member’s expertise and contribution to the take-off enterprise.
The Fat Man is called the Fat Man because he is fat. His beer belly extends forward a distance of one or two feet, and when positioned correctly, it can block out the sun. Because of the height of the railing on the dice table and the size of the Fat Man’s girth, when the Fat Man leans over the table’s rail, his belly can block the stickman’s view of the entire half of the table onto which the dice are thrown. To do this effectively, the Fat Man plays the position on the table directly at the Stickman’s right-hand side. The Fat Man stands close enough to the Stickman so that their elbows would touch were they both to extend them.
While the Fat Man’s waist measurement is of considerable interest, it’s his style of play that defines his expertise and contribution to the enterprise. The Fat Man plays Place Bets on the Inside or just the Six and Eight. He also raises his bets on “last-second hunches.” It’s his action of raising his bets at the “last-second” that allows him to use his belly to block the Stickman’s view of the dice as the land on that side of the table. Just as the shooter is releasing the dice, the Fat Man leans across the table with a handful of chips and yells, “Raise my Six and Eight!!!” and slams his chips on the layout in a messy pile. The Stickman cannot see the dice being tossed, as the Fat Man’s belly blocks his entire view, and the baseman is too concerned with the Fat Man’s last-second, slapdash demand to pay any attention to what the dice do, or rather, what the dice don’t do.
What the dice “don’t do” defines the second member’s expertise and contribution to the take-off enterprise.
hoi jeon moo sool
Check out some videos of the style my son and I are learning...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xHo83j-XeSo&feature=related
copy and paste the link. I'm too lazy to write it up correctly
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xHo83j-XeSo&feature=related
copy and paste the link. I'm too lazy to write it up correctly
Differ's Wrench
For as many years as I've been aware, I've pondered and puzzled. I've worked ideas over in my head striving towards some kind of profound realization that will give me advantage and something to pass on to my kids' kids.
And recently, I've come to peace with it. Finally.
Be a player. Be the winner. Be the loser. Be the cheerer. Be the jeerer. Be the hot dog vendor. Be the coach. Be the ticket scalper. Play your part. It's all just a game.
And recently, I've come to peace with it. Finally.
Be a player. Be the winner. Be the loser. Be the cheerer. Be the jeerer. Be the hot dog vendor. Be the coach. Be the ticket scalper. Play your part. It's all just a game.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
