It’s tough when you are in sports arbitrage to read these things, even though you know that mathematically, the bet wasn’t justified. Imagine getting that much money in one huge chunk — fantastic. For the arb player though, that’s poison. We make our percentages at the single digit level and try to eliminate the risk. Slow and steady wins the day. But it’s still hard when you see something like that. The remedy is to remember that the casinos didn’t lose here. That big win was offset by many, many losses from other players.

What is just as interesting for me is a little snippet mentioned in the Yahoo News story. They mention that the odds were changed the day after the bet was made. They were changed by Mr. Jay Rood, an MGM vice president (the casino, not the movie company). And, more importantly, that he sets the odds for 12 Las Vegas sports books.

Why is that a big deal? Well, in sports arbitrage, I depend on different odds from different books to make a living. As more and more bookmakers simply use the same service (or person) to set odds, ti becomes impossible to find the differences that make sports arbitrage work.

From a bookmaker’s point of view, unless they want to attract more business by shading the odds one way or another, they can just sign up for a service that sets the odds for them. It’s as simple as having a subscription and the software does the rest. This whole deal is going to kill the sports arbitrage business in my opinion.

That’s primarily why arbitrage wouldn’t work with physical bets here in Las Vegas. You couldn’t find enough difference in the odds to overcome the fees you pay for making a bet in the first place.

On the other hand, I was talking to someone about a new type of arbitrage that might work here in Sparkle City. The idea is to pick an event that is a long way off and make smallish bets on the long-odds teams/players (much like the 999 to 1 on the Cardinals). Then, as the odds change for the worse (as some will do) you sell your bet slip for a profit.

So, for instance, you get the Eagles at 30 to 1 to win the Super Bowl, early in the season. If they win a few games, the odds drop to 10 to 1 or so (just making up numbers). A new bettor would be better off buying your ticket (30 to 1) and pay you extra for the privilege — as long as they are still making a profit overall.

I’m not sure how this will work in practice, and I’m a bit suspicious right now, but it may have potential. The nice thing is that it doesn’t depend on whether a team wins or loses the final event. By that time, you are out of the game. What I don’t know yet is how odds might fall even further– in which case you would lose the opportunity to sell the bet. And I’m not sure how and who you would sell to in practice, although that would be internet based I suppose. Finally, I don’t know if it is legal.

In that piece they mention abandoned swimming pools as a reservoir for the mosquitoes that transmit the virus. This was confirmed when I learned a little more about West Nile. In this podcast (from 2008) they talk about Bakersfield California and how people left during a heatwave, and because of high electricity costs, shut off the filter equipment in their pools. In fact, they linked to a CDC (Centers for Disease Control) article with a satellite picture about it. You can see the green where the pools have become overgrown with algae and available to mosquitos.

The red arrows show abandoned (green) pools that harbor the mosquitoes.

Apparently, the brand of mosquito that transmits the virus can smell polluted or stagnant water and goes there to lay its eggs.

So what does this have to do with Vegas? Guess which city had the highest foreclosure rate last year? Us. And what happens when people abandon their houses or don’t have enough money to keep them up? You got it; they let the pool go to pot.

So, I did a little Google Earth to look for green pools in Vegas. Here’s an example:

Guess which one of the houses above is in foreclosure?

So did I get West Nile? I don’t really know and I don’t think anyone really knows how many cases there are around here. After all, I wasn’t sick enough to go in for treatment and there’s probably a lot of other people who haven’t either.

I did find out the mortality rate for this disease is about 4.5%, but only if you have a severe case — in fact, most cases are symptom free, 80% or so.

The mosquitoes don’t travel all that far from their pond (unless there’s a strong wind or something) so you might want to check Google Earth and see what your neighbors are up to, although that’s not the best, since the pictures may be dated. The best you can do is wear mosquito repellant for a few days after a rainstorm (rarer here in Las Vegas).

If I did have it, I’m now immune. So that’s an upside for me.

How do I know? I asked Mattie about it and my run-in with her and Mai Lin. Turns out Mai Lin was more interested in me simply because Mattie had put the “safe” label out there. She’d already mentioned me to Mai Lin as being single and interesting. So that clears up the myster from my last post.

Now, I won’t say Mai Lin and I are a couple, but I’ve taken her out a few times and I’ve run into “the rules.” The rules have to do with what is and isn’t allowed when you date a dealer at a casino. The first and primary rule is that you can’t hang out at their table when they are working. Dealers are forbidden to interact with significant others (even as insignificant as me) while they are working. Plainly, there’s a worry about cheating — and one thing you don’t want to mess with is the paranoia of casino security. She could lose her job.

She did tell me some stories from the place that don’t reflect well on humans in general. For instance, when some people get fixated on a particular slot machine, they will guard it with their lives. That means no bathroom breaks… you guessed it. Some will pee right there on the stool in front of the machine rather than go to the restroom. Completely disgusting.

And then there’s the string of people hitting on her at work. She’s encouraged to be friendly, even flirtatious, with the players. But some of those players become stalkers, thinking the tip they gave her allows them to be jerks away from the gambling floor. Mai Lin has a few stories about girls that were followed or accosted while on break or when going to their cars after work. Sad, really.

It’s enough of a problem that you are encouraged to go with a coworker or ask for security when leaving the gaming floor after your shift.

First, you have to know I haven’t really been hitting it out of the park, dating-wise. I blame myself. It seems like such a chore to get “out there” or “mingle.” And I wouldn’t say I’m all that impressive when you meet me. But hey, I’m a nice guy, as far as guys go.

In any case, I did meet someone of the fem persuasion through this blog — a nice young lady who also lives in Vegas. Nothing romantic there, but we did get together for a few drinks and share stories about our town (“Lost Wages,” to the locals). Her online name is Mattie. That’s the first part of the story.

The second part has to do with a windfall I got a few days ago. Sr. Pedrone sent me a nice letter and some money because of the recent buying trip to India with his son. Apparently, that trip blossomed into some further sales — he’s now distributing chemicals in Mexico beyond his original intent. He called this bit of largesse a “bonus.”

I got the money wired to me through Western Union, and was heading back to the trailer with several thousands of dollars in my pockets. I spotted Mattie taking a smoke break (she is a housekeeper at one of the hotels) with another woman. Turns out this other woman is a dealer and her name is Mai Lin.

How do I know? I stopped and chatted it up with Mattie and met Mai Lin as a bonus. And, I think because I had a whopping big wad of cash on me, Mei Lin agreed to a date — sorta date, just coffee after her shift.

So what’s up with that? Can women smell money? Do we men seem more attractive when we have the buckos?

Now, don’t give me any of that psychological crap about how I look better and act differently when I’m “up” than when troubled. The cash wasn’t on my mind at all. And I didn’t mention it to either girl.

I believe they can sense it. You don’t have to look far to see the goofiest rich guys with the most fabulous of fabulous wives.

So, I saw where agility trials were being held at the fairgrounds. And that got thinking about Little Henry and how much fun it would be.

The purpose of an agility trial seems to be to get your dog to run as fast as possible through a course of jumps, tunnels and platforms — at blazing speed, in a set order, and while the trainer/owner tries to keep up and pretend to be in control.

We went, with Little Henry wearing a leash and harness, and he was excited, seeing all these dogs running around. Most of them were Shelties or Border Collies, with the Collies being the natural stars of the show. You’d think the dogs would get tired out after their run, but they come off the course with their blood pumping and ready for more. The owners, however, are often winded from trying to keep up.

After the pro dogs finished, Henry and I had a chance to sneak onto the course. I had some strange idea that he would take to it like a duck to water, but it didn’t happen. He wasn’t the least bit interested in jumping hurdles or going up the ramps. The best I could manage was getting him in the tunnel, which he explored and then started digging underneath… not good.

Turns out you actually have to train your mutt to do this stuff. Now, knowing that I have to work as much as the dog, I’m less interested in the whole scheme. So I made Little Henry a Halloween hat instead.

When Poker Stars, the online gaming site (along with the partner site, Full Tilt Poker) got pulled earlier this year for violation of the online gaming rules, the rumors flew. The sites were seized by the US Justice Department because you can’t play with real money in the US on the Internet.

Now that two of the principles, Howard Lederer and Christopher Ferguson (along with eight other board memebers) have been accused of running a Ponzi scheme, some of the conspiracy buffs are feeling smug. If you don’t recognize the names above, you probably don’t follow poker — these are a couple of the rock stars in the poker tournament world.

Years ago, when Poker Stars was getting up and rolling, there were questions about, “How do I know the games are fair?” It’s just too easy to cheat when all the cards are virtual. So now, the sites are accused of blatantly stealing money from player’s accounts outright. They’d then use money from new players to make up the difference. Hence the label, “Ponzi Scheme.”

If you go to the sites now, you’ll see poker is still on offer. But no betting of real money is allowed. It’s all “just for fun.” Without the real money element though, it’s doubtful there’s much fun to be had.

So was it a scam from the start? There’s no way to really know. But all online gaming suffers from the same suspicion about whether cards, bets or even the players are “real” of faked up to display on a computer screen. Hopefully, they’ll learn the lesson that Vegas did — if you ensure an honest game and take your normal percentage, in the long run your casino will be better off. Cheating will pay in the short term, but as soon as the word gets out (and it will) the business dies.

It happened like this. I’m out walking the mutt in the cool of the evening. We like to take the walk along the strip if the crowds aren’t heavy and just look at the people and the lights. Henry likes to investigate the trash cans and planted pots. In any case, I must look like a local (maybe because I’m walking a dog?) and I get a fair number of questions — people ask for directions and such like. One gentleman and his wife were particularly chatty and had mentioned they used to own a Jack Russell that had died about a year ago.

I think I was giving them some tips about how to get better seats for the show they were going to see, and Henry alerted on a trash can. He basically started biting at it. And then a mouse (or maybe a baby rat) ran out of it. Quick as a wink, Henry was on the case. I believe he would have caught it except I had him on the leash and he was brought up short.

The couple saw this and asked me if he was a “ratter.” I didn’t know the term. It means a dog who specializes in hunting and killing rats and vermin. Well, I started telling my stories of how he hunts, how seriously he takes to it and how he trusts his nose.

Cutting to the chase, the couple runs a “You Pick” farm in the Barstow, California area and wanted me to drive down there and let Little Henry do his thing. $30 an hour plus gas (it’s a two hour drive).

They run a completely pesticide-free, organic operation and have been seeing desert mice in the fields. Little Henry’s job was to put the fear of dog in the vermin. So we went this weekend and it was a blast. Three hours in the morning and three in the evening.

The money wasn’t as important as the fun. That little dog absolutely loved it. He dug up three nests that I saw direct evidence of, and I don’t know how many other mice were killed because half the time he was neck deep or deeper into some hole he’d dug.

As a bonus, I came back with a box of peaches and one of mixed apples to share around the park here. All in all, a fun time.

My instinct was to say no, but he let slip he’d already read what I had to say about him on the blog and implied we could, “clear things up.” The not-so-hidden threat was to implicate me with the police.

If you need to catch up, I used to have a good friend who was involved with drug trafficking in Oklahoma and, inadvertently, got me involved. I won’t rehash the whole story — I already put it in this blog — but the end result was I left him in Mexico on the lam from the police and courts (he’d agreed to testify against some dirty cops and ran out on his plea deal).

I met with the PI and we had a nice dinner. I pretty much repeated my side of the story to him and said I didn’t know where the guy was now — somewhere in Mexico. We actually hit it off after that and he shared with me some of how he tracked me down and why he was looking for Alex.

It turns out that it had nothing to do with the police matter (in fact, the PI didn’t care the least about criminal charges). It had to do with the financial side of things. Looks like Alex skipped out on all his debts when he decided to become a Mexican. But what was more interesting to me was how the detective found me.

I’ll call him James.

James showed me the file he’d printed out on my online activity, including all the posts on this blog. The file was as thick as an average paperback novel. It had my credit report (from all three agencies), and a bunch of things from the net I had forgotten. What he had done was start with my real name and just work his way through different links to find out all about me — and this blog. A couple of the tricks: He used tinyeye to link pictures across forums; my tagline was also a good search term; my nick is shared in LinkedIn and other places. And then he did searches that combined these things along with keywords like Oklahoma and Tulsa. With each new fact he found, he would search again, adding the new term.

I think James was just proud of all the work and that’s why he shared it. But from where I was sitting, it was a bit scary. There were things from five years ago I’d put on some forum or other. I used to think I had anonymity. Turns out none of us do. As soon as my credit card number made a purchase, or I put a phone number (or email) in somewhere to sign up (like Netflix for example) it became part of the forest of info on me. And James knows how to track someone through the forest.

Anyhow, the law states that everyone (drivers and riders) has to wear a helmet and face protection (goggles or a windscreen) while riding. The modified legislation would allow a choice for those possessing a motorcycle license for a year who are also over 21. This session, it actually made it out of committee… and then died without a vote.

So what’s the big deal? On one hand, cyclists are a kind of freedom loving breed. They/we want the choice to go bare or not. Yes. Motorcyclists know it’s more dangerous, but so is riding a motorcycle in the first place.

To be honest, I didn’t care much about it until I took the risk and went bareheaded. Here’s what it was like…

Late night in the desert between Las Vegas and the Valley of Fire State Park. That’s about an hour’s ride one way, with about half on an interstate (which takes you north and east into the mountains). And then there’s a sweep to the east on a two lane blacktop that goes across a valley and into a rocky, canyon area where the park is.

On a moonlit night, cool but not cold, especially on a weeknight early, early in the morning… you feel like it’s just you and the desert. Long stretches without any headlights marring the view.

It was the latter stretch toward the park that I took off my helmet. And yes, it was a completely different experience. First of all, when you wear a helmet, you are looking out at the world. Mine blocks my ears and keeps the dry wind off my face, so it’s more like being in a car — the helmet separates you from the scenery. Without it, the experience is more like when you ride a bicycle and you are part of what’s going on around you.

To be honest, it was a little bit scary. Exhilarating, but scary.

Will I risk the two points on my license and a fine by breaking the law again? Probably. I’ll repeat that ride and when I do, I’m going to go bare. At least I understand the issue now.

The first was how much of a dweeb I’d look like on a scooter — I’m getting too old to pull it off. In fact, whenever I see someone my age or older on a bicycle (unless they are “geared up”), I just assume they got a DUI and can’t drive. The second reason is the speed for mopeds/scooters is 30 miles per hour max here in Nevada. Even if the bike can go faster, they put a governor on it so it won’t. The more I thought about it, the more a “real” motorcycle seemed like the way to go.

So, I looked into licensing, and for $250 bucks, there’s a course you can take to learn how to ride and get a waiver for the test. Three days of instruction at the University and you get a certificate.

Unfortunately, there’s a waiting list. I didn’t want to wait. 

This brings me to Mr. H, who is an instructor for motorcycles at an unnamed institution. For $200 cash, he will spend a few hours with you and make sure you know the basics.

We met up in the parking lot of a mega-church (on a Wednesday) and used their parking lot and his girlfriend’s bike. It was a Honda Nighthawk 550, which Mr. H tells me is the best bike for beginners to learn on. Here’s what they look like:

I was surprised that the bike was nearly as old as I was. These things were made in 1984!. I have so much to learn… imagine still driving around a car from that long ago.

Anyhow, the sweet thing about this off-the-record deal was that I ended up with the same certificate I would have gotten taking the three-day course after just a couple of hours of messing around. (I won’t imply that this is strictly legal…)

Am I a skilled rider? Hardly. But Mr. H taught me the basics and said I’d learn on the road after I bought a bike for myself. So I went the next day and now have a Class M license. Sweet.