So what was on Caesar's mind? He turned to his men and shouted, "Alea jacta est!" Loosely translated that means, "The dice have been thrown!"

Dice? That's right. Julius was a gambler. The world was just one giant craps game to him, and he was betting his entire bankroll.

Julius won that gamble and many more, until the Ides of March five years later when the die (he was actually referring to just one of the cubes) finally turned against him. Caesar was assassinated in the Senate at the foot of Pompey's statue.

Sad, but consider the stakes. Julius bet his life with the very real expectation of winning an empire. From his point of view, he stood to gain much more than he could possibly lose. It was a big bet, but not a bad gamble. In fact, Caesar won so many of his wagers that we now date our movies with Roman numerals and call one hundred years a century. Hail Caesar!

Other famous gamblers haven't always been as smart when figuring the value of the bet against the possible return. For example, let's flash forward nearly two millennia.

August 2, 1876: It was about 3 PM when Wild Bill Hickok walked into Carl Mann's No. 10 saloon in Deadwood, South Dakota. The 39-year-old gunslinger was by this time a Western celebrity. His exploits as a spy, scout, and law officer were well-known and quickly becoming exaggerated legends. Bill was also a newlywed. He had married Agnes Lake Thatcher on March 5th, honeymooned in Cincinnati, and then left his bride and joined a wagon train with "Colorado" Charlie Utter bound for South Dakota. The plan was to earn money, either as a prospector or at the poker table.

By some accounts, the poker part of the plan was working. Some say Bill had been a winner the day before, but one of his opponents, Jack McCall, didn't think the game was fair. He believed that Bill had cheated to win a 25-cent pot.

McCall would later claim he had a grudge against Bill because the gunfighter had killed McCall's brother in Kansas. There's also evidence that McCall may have been hired by someone who wanted to see Bill dead. Whatever the reason, Jack McCall was bent on murder.

Of course, this type of danger was nothing new for Wild Bill Hickok. That's why he usually gambled with his back to the wall, so he could see people coming in the door. Bill also held his cards and poured his drinks with his left hand. His right hand remained empty and ready to reach for a gun.

But on that day, Bill deviated from his routine. There were four men already sitting at the poker table and the lone empty chair was facing away from the closest door. Bill's friend, Charlie Rich, had his back against the wall. The famous shootist asked Rich to switch, but the other man just laughed. Perhaps Bill was embarrassed or a bit too eager to play, but at that moment, he made a serious miscalculation: He sat down and bet his life that someone would not try to kill him in the next few hours. The payoff for a successful bet would be the possible profit of the poker game and maybe a bit of pleasure. It was an awful gamble; high stakes, poor odds and a puny potential reward.

Bill was engrossed in the game when Jack McCall walked into the saloon and realized he had an opportunity to shoot the famous man in the back. Steamboat pilot Captain Willie Massey had just won a pot. Bill was distracted and complaining, "The old duffer... He broke me on the hand." Charlie Rich shuffled the cards and dealt a new hand.

McCall stepped directly behind Bill and raised his revolver.

"Damn you! Take that!" he shouted. Then McCall fired directly into the back of Wild Bill Hickok's head.

The shootist fell dead to the floor. Legend says that the cards fluttering from his grip included two pairs-Aces and Eights-soon to become known as a "dead man's hand."

McCall ran out into the street and was quickly captured. The next day, he was tried by a minor's court. Surprisingly, the jury found him innocent. Wild Bill Hickok had barely been dead 24 hours and Jack McCall was a free man. The quick trial and acquittal lends credence to the theory that McCall may have been working for someone who wanted to see Bill dead. We'll never know. The killer left town a few days later and immediately began bragging that he had killed the "prince of the pistoleers." It was another bad gamble with a puny potential reward. McCall was risking his life for a cheap ego boost. He was arrested again on August 29 in Laramie and tried in a proper court. This time, the killer was convicted and hanged.

Meanwhile, the legend of the Dead Man's Hand was developing. One account says J. Johnson was cleaning the mess after the body was removed when he discovered a clump of five cards sitting apart from the rest. He took the cards and showed them to various people, but Johnson later lost them in a drunken stupor (or they were stolen). The cards never reappeared.

Everyone agrees that Bill was holding Aces and Eights. Most say they were spades and clubs, but there's no clear consensus on the fifth card. Various sources quote Johnson differently. Many omit Johnson from the story entirely. The fifth card has been identified as Five of diamonds by some people. Others say Jack of diamonds, Nine of diamonds, Queen of spades, or Queen of clubs. Nobody really knows, although there are a couple of museums that display the supposed fifth card.

Wild Bill Hickok was buried on Deadwood's Boot Hill and then reburied a few years later in the Mount Moriah cemetery. The day before his death Bill wrote a prescient letter to his wife:

Agnes Darling, If such should be we never meet again, while firing my last shot, I will gently breathe the name of my wife-Agnes-and with wishes even for my enemies I will make the plunge and try to swim to the other shore.

The shootist clearly knew his life was in danger. He knew that sitting with his back to the door was a risk.

OK, let's recap: Julius Caesar bet his life to rule the world. Wild Bill Hickok bet his life to play a bad game of poker. Same wager, different odds, and a drastically different payoff. Who was the better gambler?

The wonderful thing about gambling history is that it is chock-full of these practical examples that we can easily use in real-life casino situations. The lesson here is simple: Don't just focus on the long odds, especially if you're laying the bet (wagering the most likely outcome). Even if you figure to win 99 times out of 100, you should calculate the price of that 1% loss, because it will eventually happen.

Bet with an advantage, or at least know your "price for fun." How much will this game potentially cost you? Anything can happen in the short run, but roulette costs more than blackjack in the long run. Progressive slots cost more than video poker. Every negative expectation game has its price. That's fine. Buy what you want. Just know what you're paying. Be sure that the fun and potential financial reward are greater than the risk. If they are, you'll always be a winner in the long run.

By the way, Saloon No. 10 is still standing, and it's still a gambling hall, but now it's also a museum and restaurant. What would Wild Bill have thought about the No. 10 serving a Robert Mondavi Cabernet Sauvignon? Would he have ordered the Veggie Junction Pizza with spinach, roasted garlic and capellini pasta? How would he have felt about the gift shop and the No. 10's V-neck pullover?

Wild Bill is long gone but his spirit lives... and dies four times a day (during the summer months) in dramatic reenactments of his fateful moment. "No cover charge, families welcome, be sure to bring your camera!" Um... Okay...

For more info, call the No. 10 at 800-952-9398 or check them out on the web at www.saloon10.com.´

Basil Nestor is author of The Unofficial Guide to Casino Gambling (IDG Books, ISBN#0-02-862917-5). Got a gambling question? Visit www.smarterbet.com and drop him a line.