The Spotted Ball, A True Story by Larry Cohen c 2025
Chapter 8
“A real Sad Sack”
My classmates at the time were less adventurous than I or they were better students, or, maybe, both. If I ever lost more than the equivalent of $20 USD, my classmate would say to me, “you could have bought me a good dinner with that money” He was right, but I would never have bought him dinner even if I had won $20.
To the point that the casino has a decided advantage over the player comes in several forms. The form that affected me, however, were the betting limits. After a long string of odd numbers, I would play for an even outcome. But, there was no guarantee that an even number would be the next outcome or even the one after that. So, I would double the bet and then double that bet. The casino, however, had betting limits. That is, they would cut their VaR (value at risk) at a certain point. This forced the player to win more often with smaller bets just to stay even. Those supercilious casino managers could even change the betting limits during the game. Thus, the ability to recover one’s losses were greatly reduced.
The thrill at the roulette table, however, was not just to double one’s bet but to win purely on a number in the numeral portion of the layout. This would entitle the winner to a 35 to 1 return on a given bet. For example, on a $5 bet, the winner would receive $175 plus be allowed to keep his original bet of $5. I noticed that the real “pro” gamblers would often bet huge amounts on these individual numbers. I started to do the same, less the “huge amounts”, but without much success until I found a Mr. Sad Sack. More explanation is needed here.
There were four roulette tables at the Casino. Most people would look for a fellow who was winning and play the same numbers he was playing. I would do the opposite. I would look for a player who was losing since chances were pretty good he would leave his “losing table” and start to play at another. I would shadow him to see what numbers he was playing and which number he was losing on. I clearly remember one gentleman who was losing, would change tables and as sure as rain he would lose again and again by the same number at a different table. It was as if his bad luck with his unlucky number were following him.
What I would do is track him to the next table where he was playing and then play the number that was beating him. More often than not, his “unlucky number” would be his undoing at the next table as well. Using this “sad sack” approach, I would stoically, unemotionally place bets on his “unlucky number”. Often, I would win as he would lose. He was just a real “Sad Sack”, an expression that I remembered from a cartoon character from the comic page of our now defunct local newspaper. It may sound cruel to turn someone’s bad luck into your own good luck but, we were all taking the same risk, weren’t we?.
To be continued….