Vegas And March Madness: A Tradition Like No Other

Written by Brad Newberg, our special SB Nation correspondent who is in Vegas for the Sweet 16 and Elite Eight.

I think I need a basketball reality check. Or a support group. Somewhere I can go, and say, “Hi. I’m Brad.” [Group in unison: Hi Brad] “It’s been six years since I’ve had a profitable sports gambling session, and I’m here because I recognize that I know nothing about college basketball.” [Everyone applauds and I sit back down]

Yesterday involved just one basketball bet, but it was a big one, the biggest of my trip. I listened to the Sirens’ call and floated my ship over to the disastrous rocks known as Kentucky basketball. I looked at the line: Kentucky was only favored by four points. How could that be? I blinked, looked again. I wasn’t imagining it. So, I took Kentucky to cover. I asked around. I couldn’t find anyone who took West Virginia. My buddy asked around. Same story. No one could understand that line, so we all took Kentucky.

Well, somebody knew something because that was a disaster. I watched the first half at the Caesar’s Palace sports book—which I recommend as one of the nicest sports books and the best set-up on the strip. It was extremely quiet. Kentucky couldn’t score and no one was cheering because of it. I watched the second half back at the Bellagio as my bitter mind raced through conspiracy theories. No, I don’t believe that anything actually was fishy, but, even in hindsight, having watched West Virginia destroy Kentucky in that second half, I still keep thinking, “how could that have happened?” I guess when a team can’t hit a free throw, can’t hit a three-pointer and can’t defend the three in one half and the two in the other, losses do happen. By the way, I’m assuming that West Virginia is the only team in tournament history to have a halftime lead without hitting a single two-point field goal, although I haven’t heard that for sure.

The only good thing about the game—if I try to take something good from it—is that it was at least nice to have a team of college “veterans” beat Calipari’s one and done-ers. I thought it was amusing when Wall fouled out and they said, “a lot of people are wondering whether this is the last time they’ll see this young fellow in a Kentucky uniform.” Really? I’m half-surprised he didn’t just put on a Nets cap when he sat down.

Before the basketball, I once again played a bunch of poker. First, I got dragged into a tournament by one of my buddies despite my tepid objections and my vow not to play another tournament. My reasoning was solid and justified when I quickly bombed out in an hour. That, however, ended up being a very profitable event, as I moved over to a “1-3 No Limit” cash game, where I cleaned up. People were actually pretty surprised when I got up given how hot I was, but the Kentucky game had just started, and I’m a horrible multi-tasker. I will say that it was perhaps the nicest poker table I’ve ever been at in terms of people. No jerks, no one got mad when they lost a big hand, lots of friendly chatter, just a really good atmosphere. We even got a good laugh from the floor manager after our table asked him to turn down the air conditioner because it was pretty cold. He offered one of the guys his jacket in jest, and when the guy took it to the next level and said, “how about a hug?”, sure enough the manager came over and gave him a genuine hug. Not sure it ever did get warmer, but at least we had fun.

Fleur de Lys was once again wonderful. It may not have matched the sheer fantasticness of last year, but that is more due to how good last year was and how high our expectations were. However, it was still so good that Fleur de Lys has been cemented as my favorite restaurant in Vegas. And having the whole restaurant looking up at us through the glass and wondering “who are those guys” really does stroke the ego and makes that much more of a great dining experience.

My flight leaves in just a couple of hours, so I’m off to grab some breakfast and maybe squeeze in a little more gambling. It was a good trip and I’ll be back for our tenth annual trip next year. Until then, and for anyone else in Vegas or about to go to Vegas, I wish you safe travels and safe betting.

Written by Brad Newberg, our special SB Nation correspondent who is in Vegas for the Sweet 16 and Elite Eight.

Is there such a thing as too much poker? I ask because I literally hit a poker wall yesterday. It was almost three hours into the Friday Venetian tournament. I was chip leader as far as I knew. But the cards had gone cold, and it had been over an hour since I played a single hand, so I did what one can never do as a “good” poker player. I got bored. And much more than that, I was tired. Really tired. All the poker from the day before just hit me. So, I made an absolute bonehead move against the guy in second place a couple of hands before the break and lost a good three-quarters of my chips. Then I spent the whole break thinking, “I could crawl back, but unless I’m going to finish in the top 5, I don’t really want to play for the next seven hours (the Friday tournament goes later than the Thursday one if you make the final table) and miss dinner to end up not getting paid or to barely make back my entry fee.” Plus, the basketball games were about to start. Three minutes after we came back from the break, I was (almost) happily out. I may play some poker today, but I doubt I will go for more tournaments.

Regarding the basketball games, I was completely shut out yesterday on my two bets. I went with a parlay on Ohio State and the over in the first bet and took Purdue to win straight up in the second. I desperately needed overtime in the Ohio State game. The over was covered with a bunch of time left—it was really never in doubt as I only needed about 50 total second half points after a blazing first session. However, it is really hard to cover a point spread when you give up two dozen layups and slam dunks. I mean, seriously Ohio State? Play some freakin’ defense. I cannot imagine that Tennessee was the most powerful interior game you have faced this season. It was literally like watching the old NBA all-star games where no defense was played at all intentionally to give the fans a show.

Getting back to my point yesterday about rooting for the strangest things when you bet on a basketball game, have you ever given the cashier $11.22 on a $6.22 bill, so you can get back a five and have her look at you like you are from Mars? And then when you explain that you did it so you could get a five back, she looks at you like you are some math savant for figuring out what is essentially a second-grade problem? That was me in the sports book yesterday at the end of the Ohio State-Tennessee game. Tennessee is up by one with only seconds remaining and Ohio State misses the shot and has to foul. So I cheer (just a little: I still thought I was going to lose). And the Ohio State fans (fans to cover) with whom I had been cheering in the sports book give me that same look. To which I responded, “That was a good thing. You can’t go into overtime on a last second shot if you are down by one. You can if you are down by two or three.” Blank stares. Slow realization. Massive cheering for Tennessee to hit at least one free throw. Small grin by me (and maybe somewhere, by my second-grade teacher). The funniest part was seeing the people cheering for Tennessee wonder why the Ohio State supporters were hoping for the free throws to hit, coming to the same realization, and then rooting for misses. Yeah, there’s really no such thing as loyalty in a sports book.

The second game was ugly. I never got the sense that Purdue was in control in any way, but it was a little shocking how easily Duke blew them out at the end, making the final score look like it wasn’t close for more than a half. At the end, I would have gotten much better returns by investing in Perdue than in Purdue. This makes me one for nine in my basketball bets and between buying dinner for everyone on Thursday, the basketball, and other assorted losses, I’ve wiped out my tournament winnings from Thursday. The good news is that I’m fairly even on my gambling, and if you can walk away from Vegas even (I’ve still got 24 hours left), that’s a pretty good result.

Tapas were very good last night, although we all thought the ambiance could have been a little nicer. If you do go to Julian Serrano’s, the tuna-raspberry skewers were my pick as the best of the twenty different dishes we tried. The brava potatoes, the cheese plate, and the ahi tuna tempura were quite tasty as well. For me, the rest of the night was fairly tame as I called it an evening not much after midnight, so I could gear up for today. I will say that the one guy who finally joined us this year after we had been trying to get him to come the last eight trips just walked into my room an hour ago after being up all night, and had by far the closest story to the Hangover any of us have had on these trips. Unfortunately, I have been sworn to secrecy. I will say that he personally did nothing illegal or immoral, but for the rest of the story, I suppose I’ll just say . . . what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.

Tonight is Fleur de Lys where we attempt to catch lightning in a bottle for a second time. Last year, we went all out and did the tasting menu with wine pairings at the Captain’s Table: there is a glass-encased wine cellar overlooking the restaurant, and in it, there is a single table. We had it last year, and I reserved it again. With candles and pumped in music and your own staff, it would probably be quite romantic if our group wasn’t five guys. Last year, we all agreed that it ranked in the top meals of our lives, if not at the very top. We also all agreed that we were completely sauced by the end, as unlike some restaurants where a wine pairing is a couple of ounces, at Fleur de Lys, each one was a full glass, and the four guys drinking last year, including me, polished off more than six bottles of wine. I barely remember asking to speak to the chef to thank him and being surprised when they escorted us to the kitchen instead of him coming up to us. More surprised was the whole kitchen staff, who stared at us with fear as we, um, I think applauded. I’m sure they were thinking something along the lines of: “I can’t believe we are letting these guys this close to fire and knives.”

Anyway, we are all quite aware that we may be setting our expectations to such a point that we are disappointed, but we can hope. I’m going to grab some breakfast, doom Kentucky by placing a bet on them to cover (and maybe throw a little action on the over in Kansas State against Butler game), and then do some gambling and relaxing. I’ll let you all know how that goes tomorrow.

Written by Brad Newberg, our special SB Nation correspondent who is in Vegas for the Sweet 16 and Elite Eight.

It has always struck me as strange the things one will root for when money is riding on a basketball game. I’ve been coming to Vegas during March Madness nine years, and every year, invariably the same thing happens multiple times: I root my brains out for a team for 39 minutes (game time), and am forced to completely switch gears for that last minute and root against them. Why? Because they haven’t covered and I need overtime.

About eight years ago, I sent out an email to a few guys who had gone to school with me. It was a message that would change the course of history (for me anyway) and carve out one weekend a year where I could escape my obligations and responsibilities. Many of you know this email, because you once sent it yourself.

The email made the ludicrous suggestion that my buddies and I keep in contact by doing March Madness in Vegas. Who knows, we might even make a tradition of it. I never expected my friends to go for it. For the ones that were relatively local, these were the same guys that I couldn’t bribe to get together for a pick-up football game or a poker night. We had jobs that wanted our undivided attention and I was sure that some would respond that their wives or girlfriends wanted to know why it was an all-guys trip (the answer being so that we can have an entire weekend without questions like that one). Yet, to my utter shock, the yes responses kept coming in, and a few months later, eight of us flew into Vegas for 72 hours of being up all night and gambling on 654 basketball games at the same time.