Exorbitant Expectations

The next time you enter a gambling casino or a card room, I want you to pause for a moment and observe something.

Every casino has it. I have never been in a casino that does not possess it, whether the casino is in Florida, Nevada, California, New Jersey, Costa Rica, or the Caribbean.

I am talking about the look on the faces of the players.

They are filled with exorbitant expectations.

Put another way, their faces are made up of an almost spiritual awareness of their surroundings and the possibilities that exist.

The earlier you examine this phenomenon, the more pronounced it is. The players have not yet been burned by their opposition or the casino's odds. Their bankroll is still intact.

They are dreaming of winning and spending those winnings on treasures for themselves, their loved ones, and their friends. They have exorbitant expectations about their chances and about life.

It's a wonderful feeling. If you have not experienced it, you are a loser.

It's the swagger a homerun hitter exhibits when he steps up to the plate. The look that a thoroughbred race horse has when it enters the gate. The smile a politician flashes before he addresses a crowd seeking votes.

If you don't have exorbitant expectations, you shouldn't even enter a casino. You are basically a loser before you place your first bet.

Real gamblers are in love with their casinos and the action the casinos provide. They prepare for that action by the way they dress, by the cologne they use, even by the way they comb their hair.

They great the casino hosts or supervisors with a quip, a high five, a pat on the shoulder, even a hug. They are ready for action.

The management caters to this. They don't do anything to disturb these expectations. They escort the gambler to his favorite game and seat him. A chip runner hurries up to exchange chips for cash.

The play begins.

I love to win the first big hand I play. There's a favorite saying among poker players, 'You can't win them all unless you win the first one.'

Now I have never won every poker hand I have played. But I once had a string of winning 13 straight hands.

Doyle Brunson, after undergoing cancer surgery and discovering the tumors were not malignant, went on a tear and won something like 26 straight sessions at the poker tables.

Even today, in his 80s, Brunson sits down at a poker table full of exorbitant expectations. And more often than not, his expectations are met.

In a short while, about five hours from now, I will step aboard an Amtrak Train for the four and a half hour ride from Charleston, S.C. to Jacksonville, FL. for some serious poker at BestBet Casino.

I will be full of exorbitant expectations. I hope I see you there.