They say what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. They also say personal success stories are always trumped by personal stories of failure. Well whoever "they" are, I am going to prove them wrong.
As a belated 21st birthday present, my dad took me to Las Vegas for the first round of the NCAA basketball tournament. For the average male sports fan, this was a dream come true. Our typical day went something like this: wake up, place sports bets, watch basketball, play cards, eat whenever you want, go to sleep (optional), repeat. It's a simple life, but I'm an easy man to please.
Even now, however, I'm convinced the events on my first day in Sin City took place only by way of divine intervention. The easiest way to describe what happened is to say I had the luckiest day of my life.
It started with my very first-ever, legitimate sports bet: UNC vs. Radford under 161.5 points. I figure any game with a team I've never heard of before can't break the 150 mark, right?
By the first TV timeout, more than 20 points had been scored. At 12 minutes in, 52 points showed on the bottom of the screen. For those of you keeping score at home, I was pretty much sunk.
The game ended in a 43-point meaningless No. 1 vs. No. 16 seed blowout. Nevertheless it created a room full of grown men screaming four-letter-words at the screen with all their might, followed by joyous slapping of hands with nameless strangers seconds later. Why? Because the final point count came in at 159, with the Tar Heel backups doing everything in their power to break the over.
Welcome to Las Vegas, where covering the spread means more than a win or loss.
Basketball continued to go my way, and by basketball, I mean every single game that day. I didn't miss a single pick in my bracket and won my final two bets in the sports book.
Don't believe my bit about divine intervention yet? Keep reading.
I took my luck to the Blackjack tables where I won again. That night we played poker where, yes, you guessed it, my win streak continued.
The best part about all of this is I had nothing to do with any of it. At one point while playing poker, I informed my opponent that his ace high beat my king high after we flipped our cards. The dealer quickly corrected me, announcing that my straight (which I had completely missed) was the better hand.
My blind luck was almost comical. I later missed a royal flush on the river by half a card; with the 10 through King of diamonds either on the table or in my hand, the last card came out as the ace of hearts. When I saw the red "A" I nearly fell out of my chair.
Now, the reason I tell you of all of my winnings in Vegas is not because I think getting mugged in the near future could provide a fun and interesting weekend. I really do intend to make a much more thoughtful point.
After winning more than $100 on day one, I lost it all and more on day two. What surprised me about this was that neither day was more fun than the other. Even when I dropped a Benjamin in a no-limit hold 'em tournament, my attitude and enjoyment level remained constant.
At face value, this struck me as counterintuitive. Money seems to be such a central piece of our lives that it seemed logical for emotional swings to be tied to the filling and emptying of my wallet.
That's when I realized something very important: money isn't a central piece of our lives, we just often like to believe lies that say otherwise. I could have gone bankrupt in Vegas but would that make my life any less whole? Somehow I don't think so.
At some point we are all faced with the task of answering for ourselves a question that has been burning in the hearts of men for eternity: what is life, where do we find it and how do we experience it? I pray that your answer does not include anything as fleeting as a dollar bill in the desert of Nevada.
Now before I jump too far off into the deep end here, I will leave you with this one final thought: when life deals you a measly king high, go find a dealer who will tell you it's a royal flush.
