I still can’t think of one time during the last Grand Prix at the Golden Nugget in 1987 that felt good, upbeat, happy, warm, or comfortable in the three weeks I dealt through it.  I know a big part of the problem was me.  If I had been comfortable dealing those games it would have been much easier, as it was, I hacked myself to pieces in rewind every chance I got because I felt horribly inadequate for the job.

My running mate, Rod, never seemed to have too bad of a day but I chock that up to full blown ego and the fact that he fancied himself to be a ‘real’ poker player.

This probably isn’t news to a lot of grinders but some dealers like to get together in break rooms – especially at tournaments – and brag about breaking a player. I really never figured that one out until recently.  I think it’s more a form of defiance and sounding off because there’s no retribution from the house or the player but the dealer is getting the release of sharing some of their own discomfort at the tables with kindred spirits.
And as far as a dealer busting a player, unless the dealer can control the deck, how could they be the one that broke a player – absolutely ridiculous. I can’t take credit for busting anyone, they did it to themselves.

Poker is the biggest psych job in the entire world.  Even though showdown of a hand is decided by the cards, it’s amazing how the mind controls certain aspects of the game and conditioning at the tables.  If you think a dealer is going to bust you or deal you off, sure as hell, it’s going to happen.

Our breaks were spent running to the bathroom, cleaning ashtrays, doing set-ups (yeah, we set the deck up on you ding-dong), and going down to the help’s hall.  We had a ticket for three things; a salad, an entree, and a desert.  Someone was always on duty and kept track of your trips in and out.  You could tip the cooks and get your food with a special touch.  But this little eatery was a mighty fine dining joint and very clean.  It was also where most of the “I busted so-n-so!” went on.

Listening to those tales just adds to the apprehension of dealing when you don’t know how to handle a game. What usually leads up to the ‘busted so-n-so’ ending is the beginning where the busted player was offensively rude or tried to inflict bodily harm on a dealer’s fingers by purposely flinging their mucked cards at the dealer’s hands. The dealer always appeared to be a bit smug and condescending about the player as they recounted the wrongs done them and proceeded to tell of busting the player and putting them out of action.

Sounds neatly packaged right?  It actually is.  It was still going on at Bellagio with some of the dealers when I left in 2007.  I’m assuming it’s going to go on as long as there are live dealers dealing to assholes players.

I won’t say I never did it because I believe when I opened the Mirage I did it while sitting with a table full of dealers from time to time that were on the kick.  It did have a kind of soothing after effect because you’re sharing a circumstance that everyone around you has gone through and you get to sound off to relieve your own tension.  After all, no one ever sat around and bragged about breaking one of the nice guys or a Super George.  After I outgrew the habit, I felt that it was a seriously stupid thing to do.  Looking back on it now, I recognize it for the emotional release that it really was.

If I went back to dealing right now – and someone went bust – I would never again feel the need to blow it out to the world that I busted them.

So…each night I felt sick to my stomach when I hit the Golden Nugget.  I’ve never liked confrontation.  It’s an unholy feeling to have someone sitting a few feet from you trying to stare holes through you and knowing that if they had a gun, you’d be under the table before the first card from the deck you threw in the air hit the felt.

A lot of the pros you see now were there then.

I dealt to Mike Sexton at the Grand Prix.  I swear he was thinking sponsorships for players even back in those days. My first experience with Johnny Chan happened at this tournament; he glared at me half-way through a down, and snapped, “Are you releasing the deck before you cut Dealer?”

I responded, “Yes – Sir!”

It made me much more aware of the fact that I should release the deck completely before I cut to deal. I’d heard stories from other dealers about him.  I tried to steer clear of confrontation whenever possible.

My first meeting with Richard Dunbar was at this tournament.  I was setting a dead-spread; he was waiting for a game.  I tried to small talk him and got a frosty reception.  Misery doesn’t love company.

*****

It’s lights out time for me, it was a day into Vegas to pick up the Riot, Scout has an early morning bath and haircut scheduled tomorrow for which we will leave her and go back later to take her to the vet for her yearly rabies vaccine.  It will be a day for sure.

My friend Tony G would like your vote please.  He’s up for the Lithuanian Business Lighthouse Award – and you might need to view the page in Google if you want to get all the goodie-goodness out of it.

Laters…