Now I've been to Las Vegas before, but never Swingers-style, and by that I mean close enough to drive on a Friday night for a 48-hour whirlwind of slots, splitting aces and seven point spreads. That is until this past weekend when Mike, Joe, Adam and I headed east to Sin City.
The weekend included equal parts casino games and the sports book, with an 8 oz. filet mignon at the Palms on the side. I'll get the food portion of the blog over with now as the dinner at N9NE (yup, thats how its spelled) was the culinary highlight of the weekend. Topped with blue cheese and accompanyied by a series of $11-side orders, the meal was enough to fill us up for a night of doubling down and a little red or black.
The black jack was unlike anything I've ever seen. For one, we not only sat at a few tables, but we all took a few turns on an electronic version that allowed you to play 7 hands at once. The result was more than 100 hands in less than an hour and a hot streak from Mike that was made all the more extradorinay considering he was learning the game on the fly. At one point, I swear he was hitting buttons without thinking, sort of like Neo in the matrix as he defends punches without really knowing whats going on. We had to end the night on a high note of course and what better place that at the top of the Stratosphere - a space needle like monument that for some reason featured a mini theme park at the top. 100 floors in the air - roller coasters! For those that know me, not a chance I was going to take part. But Adam and Joe, they were troopers and took in the entertainment. Mike and I, we were fine with taking in the view (and some much needed fresh air).
Then came Sunday. A fall Sunday unlike any I've ever experienced. And not because I spend more than 7 hour inside watching 10 football games. And not because we were watching those games in faux leather chairs in front of 100-inch screen TVs inside Planet Hollywood's sports book. Nope, the reason this was different was because I had money riding on the games! Equal parts excitment and stressed mixed well with my large vanilla latte to get the day rolling and what a run we had.
First off, let me explain the bets. I learned a new term this week called 'the parlay'. Basically, instead of just betting on a team and doubling your money if they win, you pick at least 3 teams and if they all win, your bet is multiplied. 3 teams - 6 times your bet. 4 teams - 11 times your bet. It was fascinating and had me on the hook for 4 different parlays. The lead characters in my drama included the Titans, Jaguars, Panthers and those beloved men in purple known as the Ravens.
The thrills of the first game included blow-outs by the Jaguars and, surprisingly, the Ravens. I hadn't cheered that much for Ray-Ray and the boys since I was roaming the sidelines. Then came a nail-biting win from the Titans which sent most of the sports book screaming. The real drama though came in the late game as the Panthers took on the Raiders. At this point, I had already won a little but was waiting on Carolina to secure a big jackpot, and coincidentally, so was Mike and Joe. We all had money riding on the Panthers who were suppose to blow out the lowly Raiders. Not so fast my friends. The game was awful - not really worth watching, unless of course, it was worth it to you. Which it was, so we did. And then this happened.
The Panthers had to win by 10 for us to get paid. They were up 8 with only a few minutes left. A short drive got them within Field Goal range and after a few false starts, and with less than 2 minutes to play, John Kasay stepped up for Carolina and hit one through the uprights to increase the lead to 11. We hadn't stopped cringing since the first half until that point and we high-fived as if our fate was sealed. Of course the Raiders had other ideas. Somehow, Oakland found themselves on the 41 yard line with about :11 left in the game. A shot at the end zone seemed likely, although at that point, the game was over. So on 3rd down they did what you would expect --- wait, no, what you wouldnt expect -- they brought out their field goal kicker. For some reason, losing by 8 vs 11 mattered to them??? We were heart broken...Sebastian Janikowski (their kicker) lined up for a kick that didnt matter to anyone outside of Nevada and knocked the pigskin dead center towards the goal post...we stood, held our breath and then....................and then...........the ball HIT THE CROSSBAR. NO GOOD! We went nuts - it didnt matter that the rest of the place was more focused on a game that actually mattered - Colts/Steelers - nope, we were thrilled and amazingly all walked out winners.
We headed back to the car for the long ride home - a little sweeter with a heavy wallet of course - and completed a 48 hour whirlwind tour that hopefully would have made Mikey & Trent proud.
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