Rollin’ rollin’ rollin’, keep them doggies rollin’…

Growing up in the sixties in England, I remember being barraged with American western TV shows, and movies. My dad was a huge fan of westerns, and I can recall sitting with him, enraptured by episodes of Bonanza, The Virginian, Big Valley, Rawhide, High Chaparral, and many others. To this day, one of my favorite movies of all time is still, The Searchers.By the age of eight I knew the difference between a Comanche, and an Arapaho. Cherokees were assholes, and an Apache would scalp you in a frickin’ heartbeat, and don’t get me started on the Sioux! Of course my education was solely from these TV series, and movies, and I’ve since learned a lot about the history of the Native American people, but at the time, Jay Silverheels really was Tonto, and Jeff Chandler really was Cochise.

The influx of these shows and movies into England was so huge, they even wrote songs about them.

“It’s hard to be a Cowboy in Rochdale.
Coz they all laugh when I ride past on our Alsatian dog!”

So it’s no surprise that I was absolutely delighted when one of our Baccarat players incorporated the theme song from Lawman into his card drawing ritual. I was dealing Blackjack in the Baccarat pit when this guy took possession of the shoe, on the Baccarat table. The dealer turned the cards over for the Player.

“Player shows five, cards for the Bank.” He motioned to the guy with the shoe.

The player paused, looked around the table, and sang loudly;

There was a job to be done!
They called the man who could draw, and who won,
Mr. Drawman!”

He threw the cards in. A natural eight.

“I am Drawman!” He yelled jubilantly.

Everyone smiled at this, it was funny, THE FIRST TIME! All the bets were paid, the cards dropped, and the dealer asked for the cards for the next hand. Once again he turned the Players cards over, and once again the player went through his routine.

There was a job to be done!
They called the man who could draw, and who won,
Mr. Drawman!”

Really? Was he going to do this every frickin’ hand? Luckily it was a player hand, and the shoe moved. The Blackjack player on my table shook his head. He was playing big money, he didn’t want to listen to this idiot all night. There were only two other players seated at the Baccarat game, so it wasn’t long before the shoe was back in his possession.

There was a job to be done!
They called the man who could draw, and who won,
Mr. Drawman!”

The song was getting old now, real old. After three Bank hands in a row, the dealer and the floor person started to get a little irritated.

“Drawman!” He sang.
“Sir, turn the cards over please.” The dealer asked.
“There was a job to be done!” he continued.
“Sir, throw the cards in please, you’re holding the game up” The floorperson instructed him.
“Sir if you insist on holding up the game, we’re going to have to pass you with the shoe.” The floorperson asserted his authority.
“They called the man who could draw, and who won” he sang louder, ignoring the floorperson.

“Just throw the f**king cards in, you asshole!” The player on my game bellowed.

“Mr. Drawman!” He defiantly finished his song.

“Color me up!” my player ordered me. “I’m not listening to this moron all night.” He rose from the table. but before marching out of the Baccarat room, he turned to the guy with the shoe.
“You’re a real f**king asshole! You know that?” And he was gone.

Who was that masked man?

As it turned out, the guy with the shoe was also a big bettor, so the management decided, much to the chagrin of the dealers, to let him continue with his little ritual, for the length of his stay. Thank God I was in Dice for the rest of the week!

Wonder how many dealers from the Baccarat room will remember this guy!


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