[Terry]

The strobing method you describe is pretty much what Laurence Scott presents in his “Visual Prediction System” which he sells for around $300. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work. I have it on good authority that Scott knew that it didn’t work, but had invested so much time and effort in it that he decided to publish it anyway, thereby losing his credibility, and eventually aligning himself with other questionable system sellers Jerry Patterson and Frank Scoblete.

I had the experience several years back of playing on a roulette computer team (not the Eudaemonic Pie team), so I’ll tell a few stories. First let me make clear that we never played in Nevada; you are quite right, it is a felony there, but not everywhere.

OK, a general description of the setup. The computer was custom made in very limited quantities, and very expensive (six figures). The computer itself was encased in opaque plastic resin so it was impossible to open it to examine the workings without destroying the whole shebang. The software had to be downloaded through a laptop and was deleted immediately by a single keypress after each play, so there was no chance that anyone could ever discover just what the thing did.

The operator wore the computer and a battery pack strapped to whatever part of his body he found comfortable, two or three keypads molded to his thigh, chest or arm, and an induction coil (so radio frequency transmission was kept to a minimum) worn as an epaulet inside the jacket which activated a custom molded earpiece worn invisibly deep inside the ear so he could hear the computer. Yep, it talked.

The big player (BP) wore only a battery pack, epaulet, and earpiece.

The operator would take a seat near the wheel head and, while making small bets, proceed to navigate through the computer’s menu system using the (concealed) keypad to calibrate the ball speed. That was a simple process of choosing one of the vertical canoes (the little arc shaped silver thingies around the apron of the wheel that the ball bumps into on its’ way down), and pressing the proper key to “mark... mark... mark... “ each time the ball passed the reference point, and then “end” when the ball finally left the track. The computer used physics formulas to determine coefficient of friction and orbital decay, thereby “learning” when the ball was due to drop out of the track.

Note here that the speed at which the ball leaves the track is a function of physics and is completely independent of the ball’s initial speed. The ball leaves the track when it no longer has sufficient momentum to maintain its’ orbit, no matter who spins it, nor how fast. It is, however, subject to change from things like humidity and barometric pressure, which are included in the coefficient of friction. Although it is somewhat counterintuitive, the casinos best defense against computer play involves a really “wimpy” spin, not giving the computer enough time to do its’ work. Computer play (and past posting [betting after the ball drops]) is the reason that the dealer now “waves off” calling “No more bets”, instead of allowing players to bet right up to the time that the ball drops.

I’m getting a lot more detailed here than I had intended, but what the hell, it’s fun reminiscing.

Back to the game. The computer tells you it has enough information to predict orbital decay (the rate at which the ball slows down), and we move on to the next phase... seeking “tilt”. You have it right, tilt is necessary. It can nearly always be had, if by no other means, then by having a large person lean on the corner of the table, pressing it into the carpet until the dealer chases him away. [img]/images/graemlins/wink.gif[/img] So we go now to the “mark... mark... mark... end” thing, and then enter the section of the wheel where the ball dropped. After a few tries, if all goes well, the ball is falling from the same high point on the track often enough that we hear “We got tilt.”

A few clicks on the keypad and we are ready to “calibrate rotor”. Using the same vertical canoe and the now familiar “mark... mark... mark”, the coefficient of friction formula does its’ thing and begins to predict the speed at which the rotor is slowing down. No orbital mechanics here, this is purely friction, but we do have to spend some time at it to get several “windows” of speed, since most dealers intentionally vary the speed at which they spin the rotor.

Step aside here to mention that the casino’s proper defense here is a very fast rotor speed, resulting in the increased “scatter” that you noted.

So we’ve got two or four or eight different speed “windows” set up for the dealers on our game. We’ve got the orbital decay rates for the balls on the table, the current humidity and barometric pressure. Seems we should be able to predict where the ball will intersect the rotor as it drops from the track. We give it a few tries, and bingo! A couple clicks to signal in the BP.

Now, the BP has a skill. He has memorized the order of the numbers on the wheel, and practiced so that when he hears in his earpiece, for instance, “seven”, he can very quickly spread out three to six bets on the numbers directly following the seven on the wheel, to cover the scatter effect, which is frequently minimized, by the way, by the choice of a vertical canoe, since the ball will frequently drop straight down into the number when hitting it, instead of bouncing around.

Another casino countermeasure. When computer play first began, the roulette wheel manufacturers added additional canoes to the wheels, hoping to create additional scatter. Wrong. The more canoes, the more likely it is that the ball drops straight keplunk into a number and stays there.

Something they got right are the lower frets (the metal things that separate the number slots on the wheel). They do produce some added scatter by making it easier for the ball to bounce out of one number and into another. And something else they got wrong – higher quality smoother turning bearings. We want that; clunky chunky jerky rusty old bearings aren’t nearly so easy to predict as these super smooth state of the art things.

And that’s pretty much how it worked. We traveled in teams of three or four; one BP, the others being operators, so the same two people didn’t spend too much time together at the same table.

What kind of edge did we get? 17%. It was so strong that we lost one newly trained operator to panic. He got all set up and calibrated, signaled in the BP, chunk... winner, chunk... winner, chunk... winner. He got so shook that he pressed the panic button, telling everybody to clear out and go to the meeting place. He said “It’s too strong. We’re gonna get in trouble.” It took a long time for him to calm down. The next day he agreed to go back in. chunk... winner, chunk... winner. We last saw him grabbing a cab to the airport.

So... 17%. Did we make a ton of money? Yep. A ton. Did it last very long. No. Why not? Because, well, because chit happens, ya know... International travel while carrying unidentifiable electronic equipment and large sums of cash, particularly when the team member carrying the equipment is, unbeknownst to the rest of us, also carrying several passports, has its’ hazards. The same qualities that make a good BP also mean that a good BP will, by his very nature, tend to talk too much. It is extremely disconcerting to sit down in a European casino and have a total stranger lean over and whisper “So ‘ow are ya doin’ with your computer?”

Like I said, chit happens, but it sure was fun. Hope you’ve enjoyed this trip down memory lane as much as I have.