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The Brotherhood | |||
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There once was this group of cats from around greater Louisville who just gambled full time and didn't have a job.You'd always see them at poker games, racetracks, riverboats, ball games, golf courses and the like, but you'd never see them in a traffic jam at 8:00 O'clock in the morning facing that rush hour grind.I mean never. I used to wonder how they could do that. I got it in my head to figure out how in the hell they were pulling it off. I mean, how does a man gamble all the time without a job? I pondered this for a while, and then I came right out and asked one of them. He gave me a look that I recognized from a couple of other brilliant questions I had blurted out in my lifetime. I didn't know it at the time, but "the look" he gave me said: "That's the dumbest friggin' question I've ever heard in my life. How am I going to tell this guy nicely that he has no clue?" I got the same look once in third year shop class, when I asked the teacher which was the regular screwdriver and which was the phillips head. (You're supposed to know that after the first year.) You might say I was a little behind the curve in both instances. But hell, the reason I was stumped is I was just taking it for granted that you lose when you gamble - isn't that what gambling is for? - so I couldn't figure out what was going on with these guys, how they managed to stay in action all the time and not work. A light bulb went on in my 20 watt skull when I finally realized "Good god, they're winning!" Slowly, I started to realize that theirs was a different type of gambling than the recreational, degenerate-type stuff I was accustomed to seeing. They were taking the edge everywhere they went. Eventually it became clear that if you took the edge and got the action and volume flowing over an extended period of time, you could forget about rush hour. Since I always hated traffic jams, I figured I was a good candidate for this new kind of "gambling." I started watching the dudes in The Brotherhood a little closer. They were a bodacious and daring lot, and all of them had these phony, incognito names - which was definitely cool. I noticed that they had infiltrated all the spots around the south where any loose action was going on - acting like just another one of the boys - and then they started grinding out a steady, relentless profit just as if they had the house edge. I'd never heard of any gambling like that. I'd been playing numbers and bingo for years and had never seen ANYBODY win. I did just like all the old-timers did; I shut up about it and took my medicine. Bust out joints were all we knew: Poker games with a 50% rake, no max; slot machines set on 10% payback; bingo halls that had never had the first coverall; horse races with jockeys jumping off to keep from winning; ball games that always lost by half a point; and numbers games where nobody ever had the lucky number. The best you could do was lose. But when this different kind of gambler ("sharpies" they called them) started coming around, they seemed to always be on the other side of it. Thinking the games were all luck, most of us regular gamblers couldn't figure that out. One day I overheard a conversation between two of these sharpies, and found out there were what they called "Type A" games and "Type I" games. "A" was for "advantage," and "I" was for "idiot." Hell, we figured gambling was gambling till we heard that. But The Brotherhood had a different idea. When they bet horses they knew the trainer; when they played blackjack they knew the count; when they played slot machines they had an overlay; when they played poker they used the Super System; when they played roulette they knew the wheel bias; when they played golf, they made every putt; when they bet ball games they.well you get the idea. Damndest thing I've ever seen. "They're a bunch of sharpies in a world full of sausages," I remember thinking in wonder. Be assured though, even with such a "eureka" moment as I had, it's not easy for a "Type I" player to change his spots. But it has been known to happen, usually under the tutelage of a "Type A" player. Recently I caught up with one of these "Type A" players for a little impromptu interview session. I carry a tape recorder with me for just such occasions. For generic purposes, I'll call him J.J. Here's the transcript: Cinch: "Hey man, how's the pot limit Omaha treating you?" J.J.: "Can't complain. I've won about 40 sessions in a row. I missed one hand I drew at though. Had to steal that pot." Cinch: "Yeah, I remember how ungodly lucky you always used to catch. Who's the best poker dealer you ever saw (hint, hint)?" J.J.: "Probably Lady Fingers." Cinch: "All right, never mind. Listen, I'm doing a comparison study on "Type A" versus "Type I" gamblers. Can I use you as an example in my study?" J.J.: "For which one, Type A or Type I?" Cinch: "Quit joking around. This is a serious study." J.J.: "Okay. You want me to say what a Type A player would say?" Cinch: "Yeah, if you don't mind." J.J.: "Hold on a minute." (He tips the cocktail waitress a blackbird and whispers something in her ear.) "Okay, go ahead," he says to me. Cinch: "Who invented steam gambling?" J.J.: "Shhhhh, not so loud. What kind of study did you say this was?" Cinch: "It's a double blind study designed to ferret out exactly who is a Type A player and who is a Type I player." J.J.: "I got to post double blinds?" Cinch: "No, that's just a scientific research term. Don't worry about that. It's free." J.J.: "Sure it is. So was that $100 drink the waitress just brought me. Can you rephrase that other question, maybe I can help you out?" Cinch: "Okay. Who invented Type A gambling?" J.J.: "That's easy." Cinch: "Who?" J.J.: "Me." Cinch: "No chit!" J.J.: "Why sure, baby. It was a piece of cake." Cinch: "All just to get away from rush hour." J.J.: "You could say that." Cinch: "So then you know who all the Type A players are." J.J.: "I imagine. I issue the membership cards." Cinch: "I'm a dirty son-of-a-bitch. How much are they?" J.J.: "Dues is for free, all you gotta do is be able to play." Cinch: "What gives a man the right to gamble and play golf all the time, and get rich doing it?" J.J.: "That's easy too." Cinch: "What." J.J.: "The edge." Cinch: "So there really are Type A and Type I gamblers like I heard you all talking about one time?" J.J.: "You better believe it." Right on cue, he was paged for his seat in the pot-limit Omaha game. I noticed everybody was switching seats and casting furtive glances at him as he approached the table. They were making room for a Type A original. They knew he was going to be talking a bunch of junk and playing the Super System. They knew it, he knew that they knew it, they knew that he knew that they knew it, he knew that they knew that he knew that they knew it, but they didn't know that he knew, that they knew, that he knew, that they knew that he knew it. The game was on. He was about 40 light years ahead of the field. The stone cold chalk - Type A - had bellied up. Sure enough, he started right in on talking a bunch of stuff when he sat down. He could sell frostbite to an Eskimo. But I couldn't stand to watch him do it to them. I cut out and went and played my new system on the big six wheel. Like I was saying, Type I players have trouble making the switch. But damn near every edge player on earth is leaking something - even the ones in The Brotherhood. Dice, golf, backgammon - whatever - there's medicine for all of them. But steer clear of a Type A player at his specialty, whenever you can. Coax him over to your specialty. Cause then YOU will be a step or two ahead of the game. And that'll get the money better than that damn bumper-to-bumper rush hour grind will. I've made up my mind. Deal around me on the big wheel, the bingo, and the lottery tickets from now on. I'm strictly Type A from here on out. Now, where's that keno runner. I've got a hot tip on the next game. . | |||
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