Really terrific experience, Dom & co. push students for results and it was good to have the time to really work on the throw and focus. I think I made huge progress. Friday I unkinked my grip. Saturday, I fully understood the soft throw for the first time. Sunday, I got drilled on the fundamentals, hard.

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Story time
Sunday night, I met with D—–, one of the primer students, and I don’t know his handle. He was the most interesting student, to me: he was taking the class before ever having played on a table. He was going to have his maiden voyage that night. He took it seriously. A good novice makes the questions in lecture drag a bit. Like a table running cold is for the dealers, a total novice is for the instructors, because they can cruise with some of their best material on easy topics. It was still very fun, since he was earnestly working on the throw in practice. No bad habits to undo! Not an addict already to some horrible bet. Literally his first exposure will be to being lectured to bet right and not be an idiot. Is that not the best first lesson you could possibly have? It’s probably the equivalent of just happening to know the right grip without having a lot of training.

He and I talked about it at the end of the last day, and I’d offered to shepherd him through it — my best throws are coming from SL2 on short tables, anyway. It’s really convenient for training a novice, and I’ll do the same thing with my real life friends who don’t play: I will sometimes bring them to the casino, put them next to me at an empty table. Then I’ll stake them a couple hundred or so, that being basically a ten-throw seven out when you get gutted by bad timing. I stand with them and let them throw and have the advantage of stickperson exposure etc. I explain the basics, and clearly explain what happens and see if they understand it.

I had been at a table that had fits and starts, a couple of really great throws by Advanced Guy Philly — forgotten his name. I offered to move to a new table that had — quick aside, what the f is this? One sign was orange, one sign was green and the digits said ten dollars. Not that I can’t figure out what is authoritative, but can’t you have your shit together enough to have your signs consistent you’re Caesar’s Palace for chrissake — I opened a table where D—– could observe me clearly, and I had SL1 and 2 blocked.

Had a pretty sick throw, got in the zone and was in the teens[1] when a mom and daughter approached the table with a green chip’s worth of red & white chips between ’em. I threw silently for about six more throws, hitting the two numbers they’d bet (Mom had 6-8, daughter had the 9: "9s my favorite!".) Daughter is probably 19, very white and blonde and lithe. Mom is short and big, but bubbly and really charming and you can see her good traits in her daughter, etc. I obviously got to know them a little.

It was in the mid-twenties when I sevened out, never hitting the 4 but tons of eights and nines, making them have huge barber poles of chips in their racks. They’re of course overjoyed.

It lets me get D—– in and I get him settled, bought in and ready to bet. It’s daughter’s turn to throw. She whips the dice across the table and they come skittering back. Uh oh. I five count her, and talk him through it. She makes two points and hits a bunch of C&E. We have to wait, but the mood is elevating.

She showers me in come bet odds. I pretty much can’t lose from then on, going from $400 to nearly $900 on her throw. She hits the ATS, and a couple people are roaring.

These two guys start to push in, loudly, next to me on the hook to my left and to her right. I point out that she’s shooting — I have a good routine for this, you guys probably do, too. I see a badge in the guy’s wallet nearest to me. There’s this scuffle as three to five guys try to scuffle for two positions between us. It’s rude and I admonish them. The air goes cold and stale. Shooter clearly feels it, she’s a little upset. I realize my part in it and try to reverse it: I give her a little gentle reassurance. It’s cool — everyone’s already rich, you’re good. We’re happy!

The funny thing? They’d muscled their way onto the table to put money on the Field. 🙄

I’ve been quietly coaching her on what’s happening as the roll goes on. Mom was also super quick on the math, you could talk to her as an expert and she got it. She rolled four points, three numbers, fifth point. I have had this side to myself: quietly explaining what’s happening to D—–, guiding her through a long roll. Relaxing her when she gets too excited, letting her concentrate on battering the chip stacks with her high-velocity dice.

She rolls three more already covered points with a bunch of numbers. Sets the four, has probably seven more throws and then hits it. Three players on the table had it, two with nickels.
/Story Time
I’ll post more if I come up with it. I want to call out Randman (for being inspirational), Goddess (for being insistent on the correct fundamentals) and Sandman for his wisdom and terrific bowling analogies. Thanks, you all, that was special to me.

This is the "mission complete" sound from a video game I used to play…

[1] I don’t count my throws, it’s too much trouble. I’d love to have them counted, but I don’t want to count them.

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