1-4 now, c'mon 1-4, lookin' good 1-4, come on 4, 4 is not lookin good, 4 is running out of gas at the wire, 1 is not lookin good either, and thats a wrap: 3-5, get 'em next time 1-4.
March 25, 2009 8:11 PM Subscribe
Granted, a quick glance at the tacky vintage table and its 25-cent entry fee turns off many “serious gamblers,” but anyone that’s playing Sigma Derby couldn’t care less: it’s just that much fun. The snickers and wise-cracks roll off our backs the moment those five jumpy mechanical equines hit the tracks (which happens about once every 90 seconds).
One thing is for certain however, you just gotta bet the 200:1 shot.
When their racing careers are over, they get ground up and fed to Sony AIBOs. :(
posted by codswallop at 8:35 PM on March 25, 2009 [2 favorites]
posted by codswallop at 8:35 PM on March 25, 2009 [2 favorites]
"The MGM sigma derby machine does not follow any man-made laws"
from the Wikipedia entry
best of the web!
I'm totally going to check that out next time I'm in Vegas
posted by Dr. Twist at 8:51 PM on March 25, 2009 [1 favorite]
from the Wikipedia entry
best of the web!
I'm totally going to check that out next time I'm in Vegas
posted by Dr. Twist at 8:51 PM on March 25, 2009 [1 favorite]
Every time I go to MGM, I see this thing and think "Maybe next time..."
posted by infinitewindow at 9:02 PM on March 25, 2009 [1 favorite]
posted by infinitewindow at 9:02 PM on March 25, 2009 [1 favorite]
Shortly after my 21st birthday I took a trip up to the casinos in Tahoe with some friends. Full of "free" drinks and relived of my $40 I was willing to lose, I stumbled across a Sigma Derby. It glittered and shrieked, the clockwork horses clattered around the track unpredictably . The whole thing was magnificent. Yet, the most notable element of the table was the garrison of the saltiest, most belligerent men I've ever encountered. In every race, they managed to out holler the craps tables. I was enthralled.
I took a seat. The vinyl chairs reeked of years of these men; their free well drinks and cheap cigars. I sat next to a man who decided to teach me the ropes. This table was for when you can't win anything else, when your luck has bottomed out and you have no business betting anything other than your parking money, he warned. The only advice, other than how to put in my quarter, was to never bet on the white horse. The white horse will fuck you over, he warned.
I don't know how long I sat at that table. I yelled myself senseless over my $.25 bets. We all did. Sitting at that table, your luck doesn't matter. When my friends found me, drunk with a bunch of truckers shouting at the plastic horses the thought I had lost my mind. But, that was one of the happiest moments of my life. I mourn the loss of the Sigma Derby.
posted by JimmyJames at 9:08 PM on March 25, 2009 [22 favorites]
I took a seat. The vinyl chairs reeked of years of these men; their free well drinks and cheap cigars. I sat next to a man who decided to teach me the ropes. This table was for when you can't win anything else, when your luck has bottomed out and you have no business betting anything other than your parking money, he warned. The only advice, other than how to put in my quarter, was to never bet on the white horse. The white horse will fuck you over, he warned.
I don't know how long I sat at that table. I yelled myself senseless over my $.25 bets. We all did. Sitting at that table, your luck doesn't matter. When my friends found me, drunk with a bunch of truckers shouting at the plastic horses the thought I had lost my mind. But, that was one of the happiest moments of my life. I mourn the loss of the Sigma Derby.
posted by JimmyJames at 9:08 PM on March 25, 2009 [22 favorites]
"The MGM sigma derby machine does not follow any man-made laws"
I once thought alchemy was a rightfully discarded science, that is until I sat down at the Sigma Derby and watched as my handful of grimy quarters turned to gold before my eyes.
posted by clearly at 9:16 PM on March 25, 2009
I once thought alchemy was a rightfully discarded science, that is until I sat down at the Sigma Derby and watched as my handful of grimy quarters turned to gold before my eyes.
posted by clearly at 9:16 PM on March 25, 2009
I was surprised at how high the house edge is: some of the casinos have a house edge that's higher than betting on actual ponies. (I think the NYRA's "takeout" cut is 15%.)
Still, it looks like a lot of fun, and definitely a lot more interesting to watch than a slot machine. Sad that they've apparently become an endangered species.
Reminds me of a betting game that I saw on a cruise ship once. It was a "horse race" betting game conducted completely on paper, using dice and some wooden "horses" on a shuffleboard-like course serving as markers. People put down money on particular horses and then it essentially was just a dice roll (maybe series of dice rolls?) determining which one "won" and who got the payout.
posted by Kadin2048 at 9:20 PM on March 25, 2009
Still, it looks like a lot of fun, and definitely a lot more interesting to watch than a slot machine. Sad that they've apparently become an endangered species.
Reminds me of a betting game that I saw on a cruise ship once. It was a "horse race" betting game conducted completely on paper, using dice and some wooden "horses" on a shuffleboard-like course serving as markers. People put down money on particular horses and then it essentially was just a dice roll (maybe series of dice rolls?) determining which one "won" and who got the payout.
posted by Kadin2048 at 9:20 PM on March 25, 2009
> Reminds me of a betting game that I saw on a cruise ship once.
It also brings to mind a mid-80s video game I played at a friend's house on a Commodore PET or something like that. You had to wind the cassette tape to the right spot to run the program, which was a simulated horse race (which itself was, I'm sure, just a random number generator). After you watched the blocky, pixelated "horses" cross the finish line you had to rewind the tape...
Good times.
posted by The Card Cheat at 9:44 PM on March 25, 2009
It also brings to mind a mid-80s video game I played at a friend's house on a Commodore PET or something like that. You had to wind the cassette tape to the right spot to run the program, which was a simulated horse race (which itself was, I'm sure, just a random number generator). After you watched the blocky, pixelated "horses" cross the finish line you had to rewind the tape...
posted by The Card Cheat at 9:44 PM on March 25, 2009
Sega made/makes a similar but more modern equivalent. The Montreal Casino had one about ten years ago, don't know if they still do.
posted by furtive at 9:46 PM on March 25, 2009
posted by furtive at 9:46 PM on March 25, 2009
It also brings to mind a mid-80s video game I played at a friend's house on a Commodore PET or something like that.
Sport of Kings??
posted by drjimmy11 at 9:55 PM on March 25, 2009
Sport of Kings??
posted by drjimmy11 at 9:55 PM on March 25, 2009
>Sega made/makes a similar but more modern equivalent.
Holy crap, look at that thing go. The amount of energy put into ephemeral entertainment technology like this is truly frightening. Reminds me of the scene in AI where they go to the Pleasure Island place and it's full of glowing, overpriced amusements.
posted by HeroZero at 4:40 AM on March 26, 2009
Holy crap, look at that thing go. The amount of energy put into ephemeral entertainment technology like this is truly frightening. Reminds me of the scene in AI where they go to the Pleasure Island place and it's full of glowing, overpriced amusements.
posted by HeroZero at 4:40 AM on March 26, 2009
This just reminds me of all the money I've lost on electric football over the years.
posted by orme at 4:48 AM on March 26, 2009
posted by orme at 4:48 AM on March 26, 2009
It was a "horse race" betting game conducted completely on paper, using dice and some wooden "horses" on a shuffleboard-like course serving as markers
A friend's parents have a Kentucky Derby party every year, during which the driveway is marked with a chalk grid and a wooden horse's ass is placed in each lane. They take bets, roll dice, and sometimes, fueled by too many strong mint juleps, somebody thinks, hey, I bet we can make this horse move with a handful of bottle rockets.
Two of the horse's asses are charred and broken.
posted by uncleozzy at 5:44 AM on March 26, 2009 [2 favorites]
A friend's parents have a Kentucky Derby party every year, during which the driveway is marked with a chalk grid and a wooden horse's ass is placed in each lane. They take bets, roll dice, and sometimes, fueled by too many strong mint juleps, somebody thinks, hey, I bet we can make this horse move with a handful of bottle rockets.
Two of the horse's asses are charred and broken.
posted by uncleozzy at 5:44 AM on March 26, 2009 [2 favorites]
Sega made/makes a similar but more modern equivalent. The Montreal Casino had one about ten years ago, don't know if they still do.
I don't think it was the Sega one (looked a lot like the Sigma one, actually), but up until at least last year there was one in Tahoe, I think at the Horizon. (In any case, it was one of the casinos on the Lakeside, so it was either Horizon or Harvey's.) There was one at one of the casinos in Redding a couple years ago, too.
I always noticed that it was the most down-and-out-looking players who sat there, for hours, solemnly watching electric horses move in a circle. It never made sense to me. They never looked like they were having any fun. They certainly weren't hooting and hollering.
I feel like I missed out on a crucial part of the experience.
posted by mudpuppie at 8:40 AM on March 26, 2009
I don't think it was the Sega one (looked a lot like the Sigma one, actually), but up until at least last year there was one in Tahoe, I think at the Horizon. (In any case, it was one of the casinos on the Lakeside, so it was either Horizon or Harvey's.) There was one at one of the casinos in Redding a couple years ago, too.
I always noticed that it was the most down-and-out-looking players who sat there, for hours, solemnly watching electric horses move in a circle. It never made sense to me. They never looked like they were having any fun. They certainly weren't hooting and hollering.
I feel like I missed out on a crucial part of the experience.
posted by mudpuppie at 8:40 AM on March 26, 2009
I am sitting in the all-night coffeeshop with Flamingo Phil, Bert Baccarat and Respect, and we are all watching with great interest four citizens sitting at the table next to us who are visiting from the state of Wisconsin, which is a state that none of us have ever been to, and these citizens are excitedly talking about how much fun and enjoyment they have had putting nickels in the slot machines and watching the fruits spin and twirl. This conversation annoys Flamingo Phil, one of the gentlemen with whom I am dining. For while Flamingo Phil is most certainly a gentleman of good cheer, he dislikes a lot of things in life and it is well known to one and all that putting nickels in the slot machines is one of them.
"It is a sucker bet," Flamingo Phil says to nobody in particular. "Only a sap will put nickels in the slot machines." One of the citizens overhears Flamingo Phil talking and stands up to inquire as to why Flamingo Phil has indirectly called him a sap, but Flamingo Phil stands up too and the citizen decides to abandon this line of questioning and instead finish his steak and eggs.
"I am of a similar opinion that slot machines are no good," says Bert Baccarat. "And I say this because they are merely machines. When you are playing a table game you know with whom you are up against. People are also good to have conversations with, especially when the seven spot is about to receive the dealer's bust card. You cannot have such a conversation with a machine."
"With a machine, you do not know where you stand," adds Flamingo Phil. "Also, you cannot meet a machine outside at a later date and provide them with additional lessons in the art of the game."
Respect is not speaking this entire time, and now that he is finished with his Eggs Benedict he puts down his fork and speaks quietly as he is wont to do. As it is known up and down the Strip, Respect is so named because of his theory that a respectable man should be able to speak as quietly as he wishes, for those who truly respect him will endeavor to listen as closely as they can hear. Those who do not, Respect believes, deserve whatever they get for not listening.
"There is book to be made, mechanically-speaking, if you know where to look," Respect says, and we all lean in close. "They have brought a racetrack to the Silver Dollar." This remark naturally causes slight skepticism among Bert Baccarat, Flamingo Phil and myself.
"I do not wish to call into question your veracity," Bert Baccarat finally says, "As I am not a man to call another man untruthful, but I am under the impression that the Silver Dollar does not have real estate enough to fit a racetrack in. You cannot swing a rabbit's foot in the place without hitting a patron. I may be mistaken, however."
"No," Respect says, "You are quite right. The Silver Dollar could not hold a full-sized racetrack. And that is why I took care to speak mechanically."
"I recall you using that word," Flamingo Phil is quick to mention.
Respect proposes to take a trip to the Silver Dollar to see the racetrack and, as we are as curious as a pit boss watching a card counter, we accept his invitation and make our way to the establishment. Inside the Silver Dollar is indeed a racetrack but nothing that we were expecting. It is the size of a pool table and covered in glass. Inside the glass there are miniature toy horses making a run, and outside the glass the room is full of touts and spectators, all yelling and making such a spectacle as I have not seen since Miss Molly Moxie played the Emperor's Palace wearing nothing but a toga. The race is soon over and as the winners rush off to receive their earnings, Flamingo Phil, Bert Baccarat and myself edge our way to the front of the crowd.
"I would not have believed my eyes if I weren't here to see it myself," Flamingo Phil says. "This is called a racetrack?"
"There are horses," says Respect, "And there are races."
"It is a racetrack," concludes Bert Baccarat, though being an enthusiast of the playing cards he is not as intrigued by the spectacle as Flamingo Phil.
"How do the horses run?" Flamingo Phil asks. "And how do they figure out who wins?" Respect moves us away from the crowd before he speaks, as the noise is too loud for even the most respectful man to make out what he says next.
"There is more machinery underneath that table than in Henry Ford's factory. The horses all move on wires and levers. Down in the basement there is a man who turns a crank to make the horses go. I have made the acquaintance of this man, and I know he is terrible at poker. He has lost enough money recently that he could use some economic stimulus. So we have worked out a deal. When he turns the crank, he can work the wires as well to prevent a horse from winning, so when I place a bet, I kick the table and he works his wires. He is well compensated, as you can guess. Shall we try it? I am about to place a bet on Miss Fortune. Number three."
We all put a sawbuck on Miss Fortune and Respect makes his way to the table and then, when he is sure nobody is watching, kicks it three times. The horses are released from their starting gate and to hear the noise everybody makes, it is just as exciting as if you were at Saratoga. Flamingo Phil is cheering just as loud as the marks and when Miss Fortune crosses the line by four lengths, he lets out a whoop and promises us all a round. And although we are newly flush with our own winnings we let him, for it is disrespectful to decline a man who is buying.
Several weeks pass and I do not hear from Flamingo Phil or Respect until one day when I happen to run into Bert Baccarat while looking at the white tigers. Bert Baccarat has bad news for me.
"Flamingo Phil has not been seen in town," Bert Baccarat says. "And Respect is upstate talking softly to the warden."
As it turns out, Phil Flamingo is very taken by the horse racing at the Silver Dollar and decides to take advantage of Respect's advice. What Phil Flamingo does not realize is that the Silver Dollar has grown wise to Respect and his friend in the basement, and by the time Phil Flamingo visits the racetrack, Respect has gone on his upstate vacation and the man in the basement has been replaced by an electric motor which now turns the crank.
"Of course the electric motor does not know that Phil Flamingo is kicking the table," Bert Baccarat says, "And he kicks it so many times and he kicks it so hard that he eventually puts his foot through it and causes quite a commotion. Now there is no more horse racing at the Silver Dollar and the last anyone has heard of Phil Flamingo, he is plying his trade on a riverboat somewheres, on account of his being asked to leave the Strip and refrain from returning."
We both agree that it is a shame for such events to occur, though Bert Baccarat does not have a surplus of sympathy for Phil Flamingo.
"He should have listened to himself harder," Bert Baccarat shrugs, as we say goodbye to the white tigers and head to the tables. "With a machine, you do not know where you stand."
posted by Spatch at 9:22 AM on March 26, 2009 [9 favorites]
"It is a sucker bet," Flamingo Phil says to nobody in particular. "Only a sap will put nickels in the slot machines." One of the citizens overhears Flamingo Phil talking and stands up to inquire as to why Flamingo Phil has indirectly called him a sap, but Flamingo Phil stands up too and the citizen decides to abandon this line of questioning and instead finish his steak and eggs.
"I am of a similar opinion that slot machines are no good," says Bert Baccarat. "And I say this because they are merely machines. When you are playing a table game you know with whom you are up against. People are also good to have conversations with, especially when the seven spot is about to receive the dealer's bust card. You cannot have such a conversation with a machine."
"With a machine, you do not know where you stand," adds Flamingo Phil. "Also, you cannot meet a machine outside at a later date and provide them with additional lessons in the art of the game."
Respect is not speaking this entire time, and now that he is finished with his Eggs Benedict he puts down his fork and speaks quietly as he is wont to do. As it is known up and down the Strip, Respect is so named because of his theory that a respectable man should be able to speak as quietly as he wishes, for those who truly respect him will endeavor to listen as closely as they can hear. Those who do not, Respect believes, deserve whatever they get for not listening.
"There is book to be made, mechanically-speaking, if you know where to look," Respect says, and we all lean in close. "They have brought a racetrack to the Silver Dollar." This remark naturally causes slight skepticism among Bert Baccarat, Flamingo Phil and myself.
"I do not wish to call into question your veracity," Bert Baccarat finally says, "As I am not a man to call another man untruthful, but I am under the impression that the Silver Dollar does not have real estate enough to fit a racetrack in. You cannot swing a rabbit's foot in the place without hitting a patron. I may be mistaken, however."
"No," Respect says, "You are quite right. The Silver Dollar could not hold a full-sized racetrack. And that is why I took care to speak mechanically."
"I recall you using that word," Flamingo Phil is quick to mention.
Respect proposes to take a trip to the Silver Dollar to see the racetrack and, as we are as curious as a pit boss watching a card counter, we accept his invitation and make our way to the establishment. Inside the Silver Dollar is indeed a racetrack but nothing that we were expecting. It is the size of a pool table and covered in glass. Inside the glass there are miniature toy horses making a run, and outside the glass the room is full of touts and spectators, all yelling and making such a spectacle as I have not seen since Miss Molly Moxie played the Emperor's Palace wearing nothing but a toga. The race is soon over and as the winners rush off to receive their earnings, Flamingo Phil, Bert Baccarat and myself edge our way to the front of the crowd.
"I would not have believed my eyes if I weren't here to see it myself," Flamingo Phil says. "This is called a racetrack?"
"There are horses," says Respect, "And there are races."
"It is a racetrack," concludes Bert Baccarat, though being an enthusiast of the playing cards he is not as intrigued by the spectacle as Flamingo Phil.
"How do the horses run?" Flamingo Phil asks. "And how do they figure out who wins?" Respect moves us away from the crowd before he speaks, as the noise is too loud for even the most respectful man to make out what he says next.
"There is more machinery underneath that table than in Henry Ford's factory. The horses all move on wires and levers. Down in the basement there is a man who turns a crank to make the horses go. I have made the acquaintance of this man, and I know he is terrible at poker. He has lost enough money recently that he could use some economic stimulus. So we have worked out a deal. When he turns the crank, he can work the wires as well to prevent a horse from winning, so when I place a bet, I kick the table and he works his wires. He is well compensated, as you can guess. Shall we try it? I am about to place a bet on Miss Fortune. Number three."
We all put a sawbuck on Miss Fortune and Respect makes his way to the table and then, when he is sure nobody is watching, kicks it three times. The horses are released from their starting gate and to hear the noise everybody makes, it is just as exciting as if you were at Saratoga. Flamingo Phil is cheering just as loud as the marks and when Miss Fortune crosses the line by four lengths, he lets out a whoop and promises us all a round. And although we are newly flush with our own winnings we let him, for it is disrespectful to decline a man who is buying.
Several weeks pass and I do not hear from Flamingo Phil or Respect until one day when I happen to run into Bert Baccarat while looking at the white tigers. Bert Baccarat has bad news for me.
"Flamingo Phil has not been seen in town," Bert Baccarat says. "And Respect is upstate talking softly to the warden."
As it turns out, Phil Flamingo is very taken by the horse racing at the Silver Dollar and decides to take advantage of Respect's advice. What Phil Flamingo does not realize is that the Silver Dollar has grown wise to Respect and his friend in the basement, and by the time Phil Flamingo visits the racetrack, Respect has gone on his upstate vacation and the man in the basement has been replaced by an electric motor which now turns the crank.
"Of course the electric motor does not know that Phil Flamingo is kicking the table," Bert Baccarat says, "And he kicks it so many times and he kicks it so hard that he eventually puts his foot through it and causes quite a commotion. Now there is no more horse racing at the Silver Dollar and the last anyone has heard of Phil Flamingo, he is plying his trade on a riverboat somewheres, on account of his being asked to leave the Strip and refrain from returning."
We both agree that it is a shame for such events to occur, though Bert Baccarat does not have a surplus of sympathy for Phil Flamingo.
"He should have listened to himself harder," Bert Baccarat shrugs, as we say goodbye to the white tigers and head to the tables. "With a machine, you do not know where you stand."
posted by Spatch at 9:22 AM on March 26, 2009 [9 favorites]
Amazingness. I'm definitely gonna spend more time in weird vegas when I go this summer. Thanks!
posted by Potomac Avenue at 9:55 AM on March 26, 2009
posted by Potomac Avenue at 9:55 AM on March 26, 2009
somewhat embarrasingly, one of the (my) highlights of our honeymoon was playing the camel variant at Luxor.
posted by Frasermoo at 8:24 PM on March 26, 2009 [2 favorites]
posted by Frasermoo at 8:24 PM on March 26, 2009 [2 favorites]
btw, the one in Luxor is perfectly placed next to a bar. I got hammered on comps.
posted by Frasermoo at 8:41 PM on March 26, 2009 [1 favorite]
posted by Frasermoo at 8:41 PM on March 26, 2009 [1 favorite]
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