Here I am, losing hand after hand in an advantaged position. Next I’m slouched in a chair in the high limit room, splitting 10s three times and winning a $600 hand. Now I’m sitting in my local dive bar, tearing up. Not because I just lost 4k in 4 to 5 hours, but because I have such a supportive and loving crew behind me. For that, I’ll always be grateful.
So let’s just cut to the chase:
We’re losing. A lot.
Going to play has started to feel weirdly normal, even 17 hours in. I used to feel like an undercover agent beating the system. Now it feels like I’m just sitting at the table to get shit on.
Still, I haven’t lost hope. My game is solid and getting sharper every day. And there’s nothing that makes you train harder than staring down the barrel of a losing streak.
Last weekend I took my first solo trip out of Phoenix, and honestly, it was a blast. I played a three-deck game with amazing penetration and killer rules. I split 10s for the first time and won a huge hand. I’m still wondering if that was a great move, though—they countermeasured me an hour later. Still, I got in five hours, generated $550 in expected value, and walked away with $950 in cash. Solid little trip.
Nearly every Phoenix session lately has been a train wreck. I’m getting huge counts and betting big, only to watch it all unravel. It feels like I’m losing every other hand when my biggest bets are out. The swings have been so ridiculous I started calling myself “The 15 Machine,” which even got a laugh from one of the dealers.
It’s interesting how concerned casino staff get when you’re bleeding money. They look at you like, “Are you sure?” or “What the hell are you doing?” Especially when you double a 9 against a 7 at a true count of plus three, get a 2, and lose a $400 hand. Fucking brutal.
On the bright side, I’ve been connecting with more card counters. You have to sift through some egos and wannabes, but there are real diamonds in the rough. I’m meeting up with a few newer players this week to deal hands and help them out. Teaching is great practice, and I’m looking forward to it.
This week, I’m heading back out. I took some time to lick my wounds and hammer on training. I know my game is good. It’s about showing up every day and holding yourself to a higher standard. Becoming a guru takes consistent work.
I’ve also been re-listening to every Blackjack Apprenticeship podcast. One quote keeps echoing in my head. A listener once asked, “How much should I play?”
The pro answered, “Well, how much pain can you take?”
That’s the question I’m wrestling with right now.
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