Butchershop Blackjack
Stanton Tweni
Well, as I’ve said to you all before, my Dad had a casino behind the meat freezer. And I’ve told you that I promised my Mother that I would always make school a priority. But, the reality is that I had two sets of schooling every day: I had to learn at school and at the casino. But I didn’t mind, I had a voracious appetite for what I was learning after hours.
I remember the first day that I walked in: my Dad was busy dealing to four well-groomed, well-dressed men. Two of the four men were smoking cigars and all of them were sipping on whisky (neat). When I stepped in the room they all turned and looked at me, “Don’t mind him boys, he’s just my son. He’s just come to learn,” my Dad said.
“Well, come on in, boy. Come have a seat.” The friendliest man who sat at the end of the table pulled up a chair next to him: “You’ll never learn from all the way over there boy.”
I don’t know how long I sat and watched them but, between my Father and his friend Daniel I slowly (or, rather quite quickly, depending on how you look at it) learnt the rules and basics of Blackjack.
The goal of Blackjack is for the player’s hand to have a value that is higher than the dealer’s, but not higher than 21. The player’s hand is always pitted against the dealer’s.
I picked up on this quickly. The four men sitting at the table never looked concerned with what was happening with each other’s cards. They focused on their own which lay face-up on the table and on my Dad’s. I noticed that while the men seemed to have a range of choices regarding what to say, my Dad (the dealer), seemed to be bound to a strict set of rules. He just followed through with his next move. I remember thinking how weird it was when he didn’t get excited when he won money. And then I started asking questions. Mostly Daniel and my Dad answered. In matters of gambling, they would be my teachers, for the most part.
“Why doesn’t Dad get to say ‘Hit’ and ‘Stand’ and stuff? And why doesn’t he get excited when he makes money, like you guys?”
“Well, son, your questions really have one answer: your Dad is playing for the house (that means the casino, not for him), so he plays by a different set of rules,” Daniel said.
“Okay, doesn’t he own the casino?” The men started laughing.
“Surely not, my boy. And even if he did, it would be uncouth to taunt us with it.” Daniel rubbed a tear from his eye (he’d been laughing that hard) – I saw my Dad wink at me in the background and I knew my instruction was to let Daniel and his friends believe what they wanted to.
“So what do hit and stand mean?” I said.
“Well hit and stand are some of the plays a player can make.”
“How do they work?”
Daniel looked at my Dad. “May we have a practice round?” My Dad nodded and dealt. “Now you only pay attention to my hand, son.” I think it’s possibly because Daniel and I had such a lucky hand, or because I learnt so much in that one hand. But, since that day I’ve been hooked on Blackjack.
My Dad dealt.
Daniel and I were holding an Ace and a nine and my Dad was holding a two and a three. Daniel grinned at me, “Well, you know you mentioned Hitting and Standing? Well, there are other options and we’re gonna go with one of those. It’s called doubling down. Doubling down allows you to increase your bet when your chances of winning are high. Doubling down will allow you to receive one and only one more card while you place a bet that’s either double or less than your original bet. Y’follow?”
“Yes. But, Daniel. I have questions. What abou-”
“Wait, son. Let me explain first. When you hit, you ask for another card. This would mean that your total is less than the dealer’s or it looks like it will be less than the dealer’s. When you stand, this means that you don’t want any more cards. It means that you are satisfied with your total. If you go over 21 you bust. Now, we’ll leave the other plays for now. But let’s ask why we’d want to double down…” He looks at me expectantly.
“Well, I know the Ace can be two numbers,” I said, “one and eleven. And I know lots of cards can be a ten – so, we’re hoping to get a ten and make our Ace a one so that our cards stay worth 20, but we win twice as much?” I was embarrassed. I felt like I was wrong. But, I knew things were otherwise when I looked at Daniel and then at my Dad and then at the rest of the men at the men at the table (who weren’t even looking at their cards) – they were all beaming.
My Dad played out the hand, ignoring the other players, and what I had predicted played out. “You’re a natural, kid,” Daniel said. My Dad ran his hand through my hair, “Go look in the bar fridge son, there’s a surprise.” In the fridge there was a cake from Tony’s. It was my favourite: chocolate and vanilla with strawberry icing. I shared it with my new friends and they told me I could come and play with them any time. I revelled in how jealous my friends at school would be if they knew my secret. I was the luckiest kid in the world. And I would become the best Blackjack player because of it.