To celebrate the last born’s 21st, we visited Pocono Downs yesterday. Yes - rain, rain, rain the whole way, via NY, but then I thought; “Well, God is in the rain”- good omen, right? (I used to deliver papers on my bike after school in worse) Place sure was empty. Nevertheless, 2 craps tables were doing a brisk business & we had to wait for spots. Eventually, a couple of players had had enough, allowing us to belly up to the rail & take our beatings. Table conditions were like the weather report; dark & gloomy. Either a quick PSO’s or 1-&-Done. But, I was glad. A hot table at the get-go for this youngin would’ve been disaster. “Yo yo hey Pops, this crapy-game is awesome. Ima quit my job at Wimpy’s & go pro, playing craps full time, dog!” But alas thankfully it was tough going & there I was answering questions, explaining the finer details, playing the role of seasoned advantage player, while the dice came to me. And now I'm animated. “Now looky here boy, Ima show ya how ta have a monstr roll.” See here, ya sets the dices like dis, now focus, then ya throws ‘em across the table, like dat, hitting the back wall. Point’s a 5. “Wow see, how great is dat! I'm well on my way to a monstr roll. I reset the dices again likey dis…concentrate…yeah Ima feeling it, ooh yeah…focus…aah I sees it…toss…7 out!” Oppsi, monstrous indeed! Son tries his hand at shootin’, but, it was no better than mine. After a little while longer I realize that things were not going to improve, any time soon. What we need is a lunch break. Based on our initial struggles, I knew the other side of the equation was keyed up. But unless we got the taste of those losses out of our system, it couldn’t come. So I made sure we talked about everything else BUT those lousy tables, as we stuffed our faces with culinary delights, care of Wolfgang Puck. Then, it was back to biz. As our second session gets underway it was hard to keep the faith, as it seemed to be a replay of the first. I'm losing credibility faster than a fake news reporter. But just as I was reaching into my wallet for more ammo, this unassuming older gent goes on one of those quiet 1+ hour rolls, hitting every number over & over. And wouldn't you know it, I'm on the dont's getting picked off. Quickly I realized my predicament & switched. Ya gotta flow with the flow. And, like parched desert wanderers who finally come upon water at the oasis, we were a pressin’, a collectin' & a doin' the happy dance, as if we'd just won the lottery. When it was all over & our racks full of multi-colored chips, we along with 3/4's of the table colored up in unison. It's hard to explain, but there’s just something so wonderful about - bad turning to good. As I always say, “Notin’ sweeter than a good comeback.” And as we headed to the cage, I couldn’t help but wonder if the table would be as kind to the fresh new players, who were all too eager to take our places. Ya think?