As the dominos of the once independently owned casinos continue to fall into the portfolio of investors of mid to large cap. public companies, I can�t help feeling that the Vegas I once loved, or should I say - loved to hate, is as quickly disappearing as a winter sunset over Mt. Charleston. The impending takeover of Binions Horseshoe by Harrahs Resorts serves as yet another example.
My love/hate affair with Binion�s actually started in the 70�s at the now defunct Landmark Hotel. I was counting as a pair of 20 somethings, can-I-be-any-more-obvious, counters sat down at the table and proceeded to demonstrate how to get noticed by even the most myopic of pit bosses. After about four hands, the dealer got the whisper and before you could say, �Flat-bet�, the dealer was kind enough to shuffle between every deal. The interesting part of the story is that Mr. Camouflage was wearing a hospital bracelet, which prompted my inquiry about his condition. Apparently, he had a case of Binionitius. An affliction that strikes when you mix not so subtle card-counters with a pair of Jack�s not so subtle security men. Although not usually fatal, a hospital stay was often required. Before my conversation with this dynamic duo begun, I had pretty much made up my mind that, if I was looking for insightful perspectives on the hot games in town and the intricacies necessary to crack them, these guys didn�t posses the keys. However, despite the blather that came out of their mouths, I was intrigued that a casino could be so irresistible to be worth getting your head bashed in. So, as much as I appreciated the extra efforts of our dealer to �make sure the game was fair�, I opted out and, after another $1.95 steak at the Frontier [don�t bother, its 3X that now], I was on my way Downtown to take a glance for myself.
Its thirty years later and its been only about four months since my last hand at the Shoe. During that period of time, I was fortunate not to have come down with any cases of Binionitius. However, I was informed on several occasions by the ever-so-concerned pit crew, that I looked as though I had some symptoms and should probably stay away for a while. So I did. That was about 29 years ago, and from then on, I knew there were two games to be played if you were going to play at Binions � one just as important as the other.
The other thing I knew about this place was that there was something different about it: 1) The place had a lot a money to lose. Hell, they made sure you saw it walking in - a spare $1,000,000 in a glass case and, 2) they took any bet and 3) played the game in a manner that, on that one night if the stars aligned just right, enabled you to have a fighting chance of walking away a rich man. No place in Vegas has ever given me the same feeling. Combine these qualities with good food at reasonable prices, which reminds me� their coffee shop seemed to have everything needed on the table. I know it sounds simple, but I can�t tell you how many strip places I�ve been in [no, not those strip places], that I�ve found myself waiting on the waitress to bring something that should have been at the table to begin with � alas I digress. Suffice to say, I�ve found the coffee shop very adequate. The used-to-be 50 cent Heinekens was a nice touch, the brisket sandwiches on the Mint side of the place was and are still worth every cent.
Almost as much as I�ll miss what used to be pretty favorable play, is the �old-timer�dealers there. A few of them have got stories that are worth the $5 anti alone. There�s one there � a dead ringer for Drew Cary, that, shit I�m not kidding when I say I�d pay $$ just to hear his stories, and the way there delivered, well, its great! It�s a marked contrast from the now, ubiquitous immigrant dealer who can count 21 in a nanosecond, but couldn�t form a sentence to save their lives.
I know a lot of people on this site have remarked about their paranoid �pit critters� and alike. Any yes, they certainly are, and have been since I�ve been playing there- well before this site was up and the advent of the web. But let face it, if you�re reading this, even if your not the counter you think you are, you�re probably a least good enough so as to be wasting their time and occupying a seat that could be occupied by someone more apt to readily contribute to their bottom line. And if you�re as good has you think you are, then.. well, that�s when the other game comes in. But unlike the other casinos that opted for the six�deck shoe, then the Shufflemasters, then the face recognition software, etc., etc, the Shoe didn�t change, they sharpened their eyes, but the game remained the same. That�s fair in my book.
Yeh, the ceilings are low, they were designed to be. Anyway the action is on the table not on the ceiling. Is it smoky? Yep. If you�ve come to Vegas to �be healthy� you've made a wrong turn somewhere. They never went in for the tigers, Broadway productions, theme parks or anything else, this place was about gambling, pure and simple. One dollar craps on one end and fifty feet down the casino, someone�s betting $50K a hand on blackjack. Ya got to love it.
These are memories of well back before the family in-fighting began and Becky took over. Since then, it�s only been a shadow of its former self.
Rumor has it that Benny was somewhat of an outlaw, and Jack, although not as bad, did know about the cases of Binionitius that his security guys were dispensing. My whole experience with this establishment and the dubious fate the future holds for it, is a close parallel with the comments my 84 year old father had when I brought him to Vegas some years ago � just after New York, New York went up. Thinking he would be duly impressed by the city�s transformation from the last time he was there in the late 50�s, I asked him what he thought. His response: �Son, they�ve ruined the place. You shoulda seen it in my day � when the mob runned it, they knew how to treat ya.� I now know what he means.
