In the early 70s, I was on a trip to Vegas and the "Castaways Casino" courtesy of a bowling league that I was in that ended the season with a "paid-for" trip from Phoenix, Arizona to Sin City.

The Castaways was a very small casino with two large barracks-type two-story hotel buildings in the back. The most memorable thing about the place was the extremely crazy men’s room and the very small sports book.

Because of size constraints, the men’s john was very narrow and convoluted. To get to a urinal, you had to get way to close to the wrong type of people (if you get my drift). It got really scary when it seemed that the pathway back to the entrance seemed much narrower and several guys seemed to await your escape with anticipation. Never make eye contact if you wish to leave with your self respect in tact.

The "sports book" consisted of a four-foot end of a counter with a small cork board where they tacked notes on. But they had the well known and respected Vegas bookmaker Sonny Reisner managing it. He was there every day looking like all the other 50-year old bettors that looked at the world as one steaming pile of bad beats. His line was followed by most other bookies, and he invented the first proposition bets that made the book big money.

On my first two sessions at the BJ table, I was extremely lucky and more than doubled my money (all the way from $20 to $45). On the second day and my third round of 21, I had a good sized audience because there were very few card players in our group. I was ahead $35 and the watchers were loudly encouraging me to bet more. Since I was more than drunk enough to become a ham, I threw not one, but two, yes 2 red checks in my betting spot to the cheers of onlookers. By now the suits had migrated to my table to see what all the commotion was about.

The very pretty and, I might add, very young female dealer dealt me a pair of nines from a newly shuffled double deck, and gave herself a two upcard. I split the nines and drew an ace to my first nine to the great acclaim from the cheering section. On my next nine, I drew another nine and resplit. (By now all the floor people were playing along with the fun.) On my second nine, I drew another ace and the crowd roared.

On the third nine I drew yet another nine spot, and then a 10 to the oohs and aahs of the crowd. On the forth nine, I received yet another nine. My followers screamed to split again and the boss at first said, "No," but when the cheers turned to boos, he laughed and gave the OK. On the fourth nine another 10 popped up. On the last nine, I received a deuce and the crowd cheered me on to double down. The manager shrugged and told the sweet young thing to allow it.