Vegas: Land of the Lost?

Michael Cox

LAS VEGAS, Nevada - This town has always been a microcosm of American vice, and oddly, the theme park mentality of Las Vegas 1998 has only served to reflect and amplify America's new vices.

The need for the Big Oooh-Aaah is fed with monstrous new structures like the Stratosphere Tower (with coaster and reverse bungee-like ride at the top), the downtown "Fremont Street Experience" (lasers and computer-generated light shows on a three-block-long canopy), and New York-New York, where I sit right now. A fake Paris, fake Venice, and much more are still to come. The need for merch to purch means trinket and t-shirt shops are more plentiful than slots.

And oh, those slots. Dinging, beeping, shouting "Wheel! Of! Fortune!" and playing a ripoff clone of Pink Floyd's "Money" (hint: the real song wasn't in 4/4), they're slowly edging out the other games (some hotels are closing their poker rooms because video poker has taken all the business). Vegas tip: If a middle-aged woman holding a change bucket comes your way, get the hell out of her way.

I could go on, but I really should get on to baseball. However, as long as there's Blackjack and all the free Bacardi-and-Cokes I can chug while playing same, I'll still be a fan of this city. Just don't wake me up until the elderly folks and kids are in bed.

One refuge from the craziness of Vegas is the Sports Book. That's where I am right now, with the Yankees-Indians game on screens to my right, and an assortment of thoroughbred and dog races to my left. Unfortunately, I got up too late this afternoon to get a bet down on El Duque and the Yanks, but thanks to the laptop I brought with me, the drinks are flowing freely anyway (with an occasional tip to keep the liquor-to-mixer ratio high) while I watch Hernandez mow down the Tribe.

For those of you who are confused by the intricacies of the baseball wager, it's not that hard. Heck, even Pete Rose could figure it out. The odds on the win/lose bet look like this (for the Mariners-Angels lockup last night):

Mariners  -123

Angels    +115

First, the plus sign actually means that the Angels are the underdogs (and the Moyer vs Washburn matchup was probably the cause. Unless the matchup is really lopsided, the home team is usually the favorite). The +115 means that a $100 bet on the Halos would win you $115 (plus your $100 back). The M's -123 number means that a wager of $123 would win you $100 (plus the $123 you wagered).

The odds don't usually get too outrageous, because of the sometimes random nature of baseball. However, some lucky sod who bet on the Marlins to beat Glavine and the Braves got a 3-1 payoff (or -300). Also, a $100 bet isn't necessary - $5 will get you in at most casinos, Mr. High Roller. Also, if one or both starters are scratched, you can call off the wager, but only if you make that condition known when you place the bet. My bet on the Mariners was conditional to Moyer's starting the game (unfortunately, you can't get your money back if Bobby Ayala comes in later).

There are other bets you can make as well. There's baseball's equivalent of a point spread, where you bet on a team's ability to win by a set number of runs (almost always two or more), and you can also wager that both teams combined will score more or less than a predetermined total of runs. Needless to say, these two wagers will generally earn you more cash should you win.

Different casinos might set slightly different odds, and may change the odds during the day. For example, when I bet the Mariners to beat the Angels at the Tropicana, the M's were only a -110 favorite. When I got to New York-New York, they were a -123 favorite (perhaps my large wager at the Trop got the oddsmakers nervous). My bets on the Padres (hey, Joey Hamilton has to improve sometime) were both made at the +110 underdog level.

You've probably surmised by now that there isn't usually a big payday in baseball wagering, and you'd be absolutely right. That, plus the frequency of upsets (just ask the Braves), are major reasons why there isn't nearly as much action on MLB as there is on football or hoops. And after tripling my money at the blackjack table the night before, my $5.10 in baseball winnings (thanks to another Padre ninth-inning win) isn't likely to keep me in the Sports Book for much more than a breather from the Slot Zombies, much less flirting with the law by patronizing an "unlicensed" bookie.

In short: I may have already killed any chance I had to make the Hall of Fame, but I'm no Pete Rose. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a date with some cards.

Michael Cox truly doesn't care if he ever gets back - at least as long as he's winning. He could use a seven right now. Root him on at mc@strikethree.com.