Win at Blackjack Without Counting Cards: Control the Shoe and Your Emotions

Bryan Matthew Anderson December 22, 2021

I remember reading David Sedaris back in the 90s, and laughing hardest at the stories he told that involved his mom.

As someone whose mom was an alpha female that did everything from being captain of her bowling league, playing piano concertos, acting as the electronics expert among the five other males in the household, and performing impromptu musical numbers from say Hello Dolly for the family in our little living room, I knew right away that she was one of the more fascinating women I would experience in my life.

This is a woman who was a mama bear that raised four boys all about a year apart, and when they deserved real discipline, would punch our upper arms with her fist like a boss. She realized early on that grounding rowdy boys was completely useless — I mean, only a total fool wouldn’t realize that sort of lenient punishment was a total waste of time.

Above: Anderson and his mother Joanie.

So, of course we paid attention to everything she said and did.

One of her skills (or vices) was gambling — cards were her true forte, but this broad knew her jockeys, and loved the ponies. In fact, one of my favorite memories is of the entire family going to the track (losing at the track somehow feels affluent, like you have money to lose). However, you mostly found Joan, my mom, in the local Off Track Betting (OTB) smoking a cigarette with one hand and filling out a betting slip with a little green pencil in the other.

I can just see her screaming to all the men as to why their bets weren’t the right calls, since she had studied the racing program in the paper from the moment she woke up. It is here where my brothers and I spent a good portion of our childhood — I remember taking stacks of these rectangular slips, and scribbling various horses’ names on them, as if I had money to bet them myself.

She constantly lost, always due to some unforeseen circumstance, according to her. I really can’t say she knew her racetrack stuff as well as she’d like one to think.

I will say, however, she had a real knack for card playing.

My mom’s skillset in the realm of cards ran the gamut, she was in a bridge club, and knew countless variations of poker (Stud, Texas Hold ‘Em, Night Baseball, Day Baseball, Deuces Wild, Draw, etc.) and so I was probably 8 years-old when I started playing poker and blackjack for money, with her and my three older brothers. We learned fast the emotional rollercoaster that comes with gambling — I always say, you can’t recognize life’s highs without experiencing the lows. And even though it started out innocuously with pennies and small change, we eventually worked our way up to more substantial wagers/antes, once my brothers and I started earning real money as teens with working papers.

For years we would spend evenings playing blackjack for money at the kitchen table. The regaling of it all, in present time, makes my brothers, cousin and I laugh. But back then it was a contentious nightmare, that led to major — mostly verbal — fights. Although my brother John, being the master manipulator that he is, and at the same time “protector of his brothers” were any real danger to come our way, would often cope with his losses by messing with my mind, and telling me he had paid someone in the Lake Street projects of Newburgh, NY where we grew up — to beat me up the second they saw me alone on the street.

This sociopathic behavior of John’s would happen after any big win of mine, where I took all his money in a match he regarded as particularly egregious, or if he felt cajoled by me to bet, when say he initially said he didn’t want to. John often tells this story of me sitting Indian style, shuffling the cards loudly outside his bedroom door and then yelling out loud the cards/hands we would have potentially gotten if he were to give in and gamble with me (I always made it out to sound like he was missing the best hands of his life, lol).

But what’s most interesting about the times he claimed to put “a hit” out on me, is that when his ire died down, and he was no longer infuriated, he would say that he’ll “do his best” to track down the person he already paid to “jump me” and call it off – he would even pretend to rue the fact that he couldn’t get in touch with them. And, so, I’d sit around like a nervous wreck all day long while he strung me along, claiming he was unsuccessful and so I had better keep my wits about me for a couple days (of course he never paid anyone to beat me up, but I was a gullible good-y two shoes).

Those moments notwithstanding, me and my brothers usually played fairly. No one was trying to hide cards or work sleight of hand into their win. You’d get the odd accusation of cheating, but cheating was not really our thing, we had integrity, and as brothers we inherently weren’t inclined to do that to each other.

However, there was a recurring catalyst that always ended with waking my dad up, and when my dad was awoken, it meant trouble and the game was always shut down (he would confiscate the cards, but just hide them…even he couldn’t bear to throw out a $5 deck of cards). The catalyst I speak of was if/when one brother was winning a lot of money from another, and decided they’d had enough, and wanted to stop gambling. In our family, it was an unspoken but cardinal rule that if you’re going to join the game, you better not leave unless you either 1) are down money, or 2) let whoever is losing money have the opportunity to win it back, if they so choose.

Meaning, anyone who’d lost money could gracefully agree to let a winner bow out and end the game, but if not, the winner had to keep playing, and take all of their money before he could quit on them. Otherwise, it was just dirty, and would blindside whoever was losing and spark outrage.

Ok, so imagine one brother starts with 40 dollars, then gets down to their last dollar and the brother winning suddenly says, “I’m getting tired, and I’m up 39 dollars, I think I’m gonna just take my money and head to bed.”

Although deeply shocked and enraged internally, the losing brother almost had to shelve their true feelings and take the “more bees w/ honey” route, at least initially. So, if say on the rare occasion I’m the losing brother, with a clinched jaw and fake smile I might say to my oldest brother, “Awww, come on Bob….you only have one more dollar of mine to win, you know you’re gonna win it, my luck sucks and I’m tired too, let’s just play a few more hands and you can put me out of my misery…”

I would then start frantically dealing out the cards to us both to lock in another round, and that sometimes worked…but not always. In our house, if you were the winner and going to make that move to quit and say, “No, I mean it, I’m done, I’m not even picking up those cards because I told you I’m tired and heading up to my bed…” you better be prepared for whoever was losing to threaten waking up our dad.

Usually, the threat started with a low warning whisper of “Daad…” just to remind the person you meant business. If the one who wanted to exit the game didn’t take the threat seriously, the next “Daaaad,” got significantly louder, and if the game didn’t continue, it was, “DAAAAD!!!!” The irony is that I, the youngest, probably abused this tactic the most, but my Dad (clad in his classic rat-chewed red terrycloth robe) usually screamed at my older brothers…”You’re 17 John, he’s only 14, I expect more out of you!”

Funny, the third oldest and generally fairest of the four, David, was the least interested in gambling, so since he didn’t do it often, that made him a “wild card” and the least likely one to play by the “unspoken rules.”

When David wanted to quit, he couldn’t care less if he spent the last few hours winning 20 bucks from you and you were sitting there with your last quarter, struggling to win it back.

He just got up and said something like, “I’m tired”— totally emotionless, and walked away (Bobby, John and I all knew that none of US could ever get away with such behavior, but David could, and there was no point in pursuing him to play further).

As the youngest, it felt a bit sweeter taking money from my older brothers (Bobby and John, respectively and mostly). I was presumedly the underdog, for the mere fact that I had been alive significantly less years than them, as we were all kids back then.

But I was a straight A student from the time I was in first grade — great with numbers and for as long as I could remember had this productive anxiety that pushed me to do well, no matter what it was (a trait my brothers admittedly lacked).

From playing an instrument, to schoolwork, to dancing in talent shows, I wanted to win, at everything. I paid very close attention and did the most with whatever I had, and as such was the undisputed winner of “Cards” (as we referred to it). As much as my brothers pride themselves on knowing their stuff, the one thing they don’t begrudge me, and even brag about ironically, is that I always won their money playing cards.

Photo above: Anderson explains, “This is members card. You give this to the dealers and insert it into slots so they can track your activity and then you receive comps and you get free food and even free money to gamble with. It’s above Platinum and I was invited to be a Noir member a month ago based on my avid playing.”

This desire to win has never really abated, though I am not nearly as driven and ambitious as I was 20 years ago (I am much lazier now). I day trade now just for myself, I own a modest Jeep Renegade, which is the first and only car I have ever owned (bought a year ago), I don’t own property and I don’t have fancy clothes or jewelry. None of that matters to me. However, I do like to travel, and when I go to Vegas, it’s the one time I carry on like someone who has some serious money in my pocket, and I almost never lose at blackjack, which brings me to the point of this entire article.

Above: The Bellagio in Las Vegas, Anderson’s preferred venue.

I’ve cultivated the following set of rules for blackjack over the last few decades, to make sense of why I often win every time I go to Vegas, and it’s not really based on math or probability (I of course don’t always come home a winner, because I’ve gotten a bit into the high limit slots, which are great when you win early, but properly sad when you’ve shoveled in more than you’ll ever win back).

Always play one on-one-with the dealer. Never let someone down on their luck sit next to you, or sit at a crowded table with others, it’s crucial that it’s you vs. the dealer.
Play at a traditional table, where you win 1.5x on Blackjack, and have to put your own chips/money up to split or double down and can double down and split any two cards (no matter how risky). Don’t sit at tables with slight variations, these are more prevalent lately and there is always a catch.
Play late at night, when there aren’t too many around, you won’t have to change tables if say someone sits down, and pit bosses can frown upon you asking someone to let you play alone. I used to see tables that said “no mid shoe entry” meaning once the freshly shuffled decks are in play, only those playing from the first hand dealt are allowed to bet, but I haven’t seen that lately. Playing with others may be fun, even if it’s your friend, but it’s a huge distraction and breaks your concentration. Not to mention it sucks up time and that streak of luck can be short lived.
When a new shoe begins, start out with one hand. See how that hand goes, if it’s a winner, or if it’s a push, keep playing one hand until you lose in a way that feels like your luck has turned. For example, you have a 20, the dealer has a 6 turned up and you expect them to bust, and so after you stick w/ your 20, the dealer then turns over a 10 to make their total 16 (the worst hand a dealer can have), then takes a hit and gets a rare 4 or 5 (to get 20/21). If that happens, the cards are no longer in your favor, and you should probably now play 2 hands.
It’s crucial to remember that the shoe has not gone bad if say the dealer starts out with two good cards, that have lots of winning potential. It’s only when the dealer “should” lose and pulls out a rare card to beat you. That’s when it’s time to change things up.
If playing 1 hand turns per #4 and you need to change it up, you Play 2 hands, until you lose two hands in a way that’s similar to how you lost when playing 1 hand. And then go back to playing 1 hand and volley back and forth between 1 and 2 hands. However, if after losing 2 hands in a rare way, and then you revert to 1 hand immediately after and lose that in a rare way, that probably means you should really change the momentum/cards up and play 3 hands.
If you have been forced into playing 3 hands, play 3 until the net winnings are no longer positive. The second you break even or end up net losing the 3 hands, go back to 2 hands. And stick with 2 until it turns net negative, and then go back to 1 hand and so on and so forth. This is one of the most important parts of feeling in control of the shoe, and also controlling your emotions when you feel the cards aren’t going your way. Playing 3 hands is mentally and emotionally taxing, so you want to play 3 hands only when necessary.
Whether playing 1, 2, or say 3 hands and the dealer gets a blackjack, increase the amount you bet slightly on each of those hands for the next round. It’s not card counting, just something I do, as over the years I realized I usually win the hands that take place right after the dealer has a blackjack.
If you have a blackjack and the dealer turns over an ace, ALWAYS say you’ll take “even money” before they turn over their second card – you will only get paid 1x your bet (vs. 1.5x if they don’t end up having blackjack too) but it’s worth it – if you don’t and the dealer then turns over a 10, jack, queen or king, you will push, and win/lose no money at all.
When you’re on a roll, you should go with it. If the shoe feels good it’s time to take more risk. For example, if the dealer ever turns over a 3, 4, 5, 6 and has been busting lots, chances are they will keep busting. And so if you have any two cards you can split, or double down on, you should do it. You can always double down for less if say you have a 3 and 4 to make a 7 total and best card you can get doubling down is an ace to make 18, if the dealer has a low card, you must remember you are betting on them BUSTING, not on you being able to beat the dealer.
Re-split if you split, so if say you are dealt two 9s and split and the first card on the first 9 is another 9, split those two 9s again, creating now 3 hands and so on again. Don’t ever play scared. Double down if you get a sum of 10 or 11 after splitting, for sure. These large multiple-bet risky hands usually pay off. Consistency in your playing is also crucial. When it comes to splitting, even if it’s not obvious, often times you get much better cards even with say two 6’s if you split them (even if say the dealer has a 10 up). As for doubling down, if the dealer can bust based on the card they are showing, I double down either fully if I have a 10 or 11 showing, or I double down “for less” if I just have two cards where taking a hit won’t bust me Again, if I double down for less it’s me taking 1 card hoping/expecting the dealer to bust, NOT to beat the dealer.
If you don’t see many face cards on the table, and dealer turns over an Ace and asks if you want insurance, depending on how many hands you’re playing, I think it’s good to insure some of it. You can always insure for less, so say you have 10 bucks up, you can insure 2 bucks, and if dealer has blackjack you’ll win 4 bucks on your insurance, and if not you’ll lose the 2 bucks but you’ll have a good chance of still winning net-net overall if you win the 10 dollar hand.
If your luck is awful, no matter how many times you change up the number of hands you’re playing, you should have a ritual in place that will allow you to feel like you’ve shifted the momentum/energy. I hate to admit this, but I light a cigarette. And I can’t tell you the benefits of believing in that, b/c as ridiculous as it sounds, if my brain believes it’s what was needed to shift things in my favor, then my confidence will rise and I’ll make better decisions. There is NOTHING WORSE than believing your luck has run out and continuing to play. Luck never has fully run out, but if you think it has, it will reflect in your decision-making and you’ll lose for sure.
Quite possibly what should’ve been my FIRST RULE, is that you do not want to EVER see the card you take when doubling down, always ask for it “DOWN” – this is crucial to the theory of emotional control. If you say have two cards that total 11, and you want to double down, always take that card down b/c if say that card is a 2, and your hand is now simply a 13, that will kick in a level of anxiety or feeling like you’re gonna lose, and if the dealer busts and loses, there is no UP side to having experienced seeing that bad card on your double-down. So best to wait to see what dealer pulls and then let them turn it over at the end.

I will end this by saying that in no way am I claiming this is foolproof, and reflects what the “books” or “odds” say. Only that gambling successfully for me has always been about confidence, prudence, and logic.

Finding ways to control your emotions when they start to tank is the most crucial part, and these tools allow me to re-rail when I start to derail.

Never once in the past have I resigned myself to losing, and then won, because if I believe it’s a foregone conclusion that I’m going to lose and my luck has run dry, I will absolutely lose. It’s that simple, if you go “on tilt” as I like to call it, and start flapping and spiral when you encounter a few bad hands in a row, the only thing you can do is find ways to convince yourself you have regained control and recalibrated the shoe to your advantage.