Scobe Speaks
by Frank Scoblete
Sixty-Sixty Over and Out
The measures of greatness for a single craps hand are time,
the multitude of numbers hit, and how much money you make.
The longer a craps roll lasts, the slower the game goes, since
more and larger bets have to be paid off. So the hand begins
quickly and, as time progresses, tends to slow down with each
passing profit. But the longer the hand goes, the more money
is made, since most craps players start to escalate their
wagers.
Decisions slow down; the money won increases. That’s
a very nice equation.
The year of 2004 was a very good year for me and monster rolls.
I’ve done several hour-long rolls, the latest just recently.
And what an evening it was.
But I am getting ahead of myself. A few of my Golden Touch
craps colleagues and I decided to spend a few days at the
glorious Horseshoe casino in Tunica, Mississippi. We did have
some business to take care of—a television show, a legal
case—but we also had three full days of play. I was joined
by my colleagues Dom “Dominator” LoRiggio, Howard
“Rock ’n’ Roller” Newman, Jerry “Stickman”
Stich, Fred “Chip” Benjamin, Marilyn and Charlie.
I played four craps sessions each day: a one- to two-hour
session at 7 a.m., a one-to two-hour session at 11 a.m., an
afternoon session and an evening session.
My first rolls of each day were quite good—anywhere from
15–25 numbers. But then I would go into a 50/50 rhythm—I’d
have a decent hand, anywhere from 10–20 numbers, and
a disastrous hand where I would establish a point and then
quickly seven out. Income from my combined rolls was positive
but not spectacular—certainly not something I’d
write an article about.
Of course, with such shooters as Dominator, Rock ’n’
Roller, Chip, Stickman, Charlie and Marilyn, I didn’t
need to make spectacular amounts by myself. Each and every
one of them had great rolls during the three days; Marilyn
had four 30-number rolls, and Dominator put on a show of four
straight hands going into the 20s just before he had to leave
for the airport. Yes, as luck would have it, Dominator missed
the monster roll.
If it had just been our rolls as they stood, with no monster
roll, it would have been a great three days in Tunica for
all of us. But the craps deities decided to bless us with
a monster on the second-to-last night.
I had been having my usual good roll/bad roll day. Dominator
had just finished his four-straight 20-plus hands and had
headed off to the airport. We had all gone to dinner at the
fabulous (and now defunct) Jasmins at Horseshoe.
After dinner it was playtime.
Stickman was the first to shoot at stick left one (next to
the stickman on his left side). He had a 15-roll hand—a
nice moneymaker. Then it was my turn. I moved into part of
the stick left one position as Stickman made room for me to
shoot.
I was feeling relaxed, attentive, and my shot looked quite
good. On the come-out roll, I set for the 7 and hit a couple
of them. Then I established my point. Since most of the casinos
in Tunica allow 20-times odds, I had a $5 pass line bet, and
I backed it with $100 in odds. I then put up a come bet.
By my fifth or sixth roll, the world started to get hazy.
I knew I had hit my point right away, then another. But then,
I was not focused on the world of the table; I only saw the
dice and the back wall where those dice had to hit. And I
started what was to be a monster. (Monster rolls are sometimes
defined as 45 minutes or more.)
All long rolls need a little luck here and there. Once my
dice hit some chips and I prayed that the 7 wouldn’t
show its ugly face. It didn’t. That fact was just a vagary
of fortune. There was also one bettor who had his pass line
bet about an inch from where I needed to land my dice—I
never once hit any of his bets the whole time. The luck goddess
was with me there.
As the roll progressed I could
hear people clapping and screaming, but they all seemed so
very far away—as if I were in a light sleep and these
were dream claps and dream screams off in a dim and distant
somewhere.
Every so often I could see Charlie clapping his hands—he
was to the left of me, but I was never focused on him. Occasionally
Stickman would say, “Beautiful rolls, beautiful.”
I tipped the dealers with pass line bets and double to 5-times
odds so that, with every point I hit, the dealers made some
money. And those Horseshoe dealers were just great. The stick
person would always step back and give me a clear view of
the back wall, and with each winning tip, the dealers would
all say, “Thank you, sir.” A class operation and
classy dealers. Even the box man, whose job it is to see that
the game goes smoothly, would occasionally say, “Great
rolling, sir.”
These thoughts floated in my mind, as thoughts will when you
are in a deep daydream. Other thoughts came to mind—most
of them I have forgotten. I had no idea as I rolled, how long
the roll was. It just kept going. I just knew that I had covered
all the numbers on the board and that I was slowly escalating
my bets, which were now all place bets. Somewhere in the roll,
I had stopped the come betting and just placed the numbers.
Somewhere in time, a few chip trays were brought in. Usually
craps players think the casinos will bring in the chip trays
to make the shooter lose his concentration. Not this time.
The area of the table where the casino kept its chips was
empty in places. We had taken many of the chip stacks down
to the wood!
I noticed this, but again in a dreamlike, faraway manner.
And I kept rolling.
But even dreams come to an end, however pleasant those dreams
might be.
I sevened out. There was a pause and the table exploded with
applause and laughter. Hands flew into the air. Fists were
raised. Players came over and patted me on the back. Other
players were saying, “That was remarkable!” or “That
was great!” or “You are the man!”
Marilyn came over to me (she was on stick right two, next
to a clapping Rock ’n’ Roller) and said, “You
rolled sixty minutes and sixty numbers!”
I smiled, “Sixty-sixty and out!”
I was tired now. I could feel the fatigue in my muscles.
I cashed out. I wanted to savor the win. A good night’s
sleep on top of a sixty-sixty… It doesn’t get much
better than that for a craps player.
Frank Scoblete is the No. 1 best-selling gaming author
in America and an instructor in the Golden Touch Blackjack
course. His websites are www.goldentouchcraps.com,
www.goldentouchblackjack.com,
and www.scoblete.com
in association with CasinoCity.com.
His newest books are The Craps Underground: The Inside Story
of How Dice Controllers Are Winning Millions from the Casinos!
and Casino Gambling: Play Like a Pro in 10 Minutes or Less!
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