| I watched the other players, hoping to pick up a tip that just might ruffle some feathers. The chicken was in a glass-fronted booth. On one wall was a device that the bird pecked to choose its space on the game grid. To the right of the booth was the grid itself, that lighted up with an "O" each time the chicken chose. Facing that was a panel with buttons the challengers touched to light up the "X" squares. The first player was finishing up as I took it all in. The game ended in a draw, the player walked away shaking his head, the spectators cackled. The second player, a woman in her 30s, stepped up. The chicken chose first, marking an O in the top left corner. This was a setback. Played perfectly, tic-tac-toe should always end in a draw, and there was no prize for a draw. Not only that: If the chicken always went first, with a set opening move, it would limit the opportunities for mistakes. If there was an entry fee, I might have cried fowl. But this was a freebie, so the contestants just had to be able to stand a little roasting from their companions. Naturally enough, the woman responded to the chicken's opening by marking an X in the middle. The chicken went straight for the gullet, marking an O in the bottom left square. Now, the contestant had no choice. She had to place her X in the left center square, or give the chicken the opportunity for three in a row. She made the necessary move. Now she had the chance to win if the chicken failed to spot that the right center square would win for X. The chicken didn't miss. The contestant marked center top; the chicken placed an O center bottom for the block. There was no way left for the woman to win. She marked an X bottom right to block the chicken and salvage a draw. A middle-aged man followed. After the chicken again opened with the top left square, the challenger marked bottom right. That's a risky play--if the second player doesn't grab center square, the first player has an easy path to victory. That's just what happened. The chicken got three in a row, the challenger walked away with egg on his face. There's more than a touch of the old carnival huckster in any casino operation, pulling in the customers to play games that are weighted against them. Of course, the house edges that we talk about today in blackjack, craps and baccarat are slim indeed compared to some old carnival games. Still, the stickman at craps resembles nothing so much as a barker with a patter meant to draw players' attention to some of the less favorable bets on the table. And every now and then, you'll find a game that comes straight from the carnival booths. The September issue of the monthly Las Vegas Advisor newsletter drew my attention to one such game. Binion's Horseshoe in downtown Las Vegas has added chuck-a-luck, also known as bird cage. New York New York is the only Las Vegas casino other than Horseshoe to offer the game. Chuck-a-luck was a carnival standard in the days when the law would look the other way at games of chance on the midway. It once was fairly easy to find in casinos, but today is mainly played at charity casino nights. The game is played with three dice inside an oversized, hourglass-shaped cage on a pivot. The cage is large to attract attention from passers-by who might stop and make a bet on an impulse. The dealer turns the cage upside down, the dice tumble through the narrow portion and land on the new floor of the cage. Players can bet on any of several options. On a single-number bet, player wins even money if one die lands on the number, 2-1 if the number appears on two dice and 3-1 if it's on all three. The barkers ... er, dealers ... can make this bet seem strangely attractive. "Watch this," they'll say, putting a chip or marker on each of the six numbers, then setting the dice on a 1, 2 and 3. "I pay 1, 2 and 3, and take 4, 5 and 6. Three win, three lose. What could be more fair than that?" And if the dice were assured of landing on three different numbers every time, the single-number wagers would be even bets, with no house edge. But sometimes two dice, or all three will land on the same number. There are 216 possible combinations of three dice. Let's say you bet $1 per roll on 3 in a perfect sequence in which each combination shows up once. You risk a total of $216. On 75 combinations, there will be one 3, meaning you get your wager back, plus $1 each in winnings, for a total of $150. On 15 rolls, there will be two 5s, and on these you'll get your buck back plus $2 each in winnings, for a total of $45. One combination has three 3s, and on that one you'll get the bet back plus $3 in winnings, for $4. So at the end of our sequence, you have $199. The house has kept $17 of your $216 in wagers, leaving a house edge of 7.9 percent. That's far worse than you'll find on other casino games, such as the 0.5 percent against a basic strategy player and 2 to 2.5 percent against an average player in blackjack; 1.4 percent on pass and don't pass in craps; 1.17 percent on banker and 1.36 percent on player in baccarat, or even the 5.26 percent in roulette. But the single-number bet isn't as bad as it gets in chuck-a-luck. |
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