Briathrail // Albert 2MNG

I’m good at cheap gambling.

Not by luck, talent or skill, but by putting all my chips on strategy. And I’m largely done with cheap gambling nowadays, to save me from myself. I’m very competitive, and I always try to do my best in most of the things I do. Got me a job. But also anxiety. Doesn’t help me when I always try to do my best at even the things I should not be tryharding at.

I typed this after I was clearing my Yahoo inbox backlog and came across the last time I put in big money to gamble – NBA fantasy roster regular season betting. And I had said no to returning for a sixth. Even if I won once in the 5 seasons I played with them.

I guess my parents got me hooked with gambling at an early age when they took us to the occasional summer visits to our paternal relatives in the provinces. It’s usually hovering between April and May, as I remember my father scheduled our two-week vacation there during the town fiesta. That meant it was a festive season where all the food comes out and everyone does merry shit. Including a night-only event with lots of activity stalls and food vendors called “perya”. Activity stalls like makeshift carousels, food stalls, and many things that look awesome at night. Basically a rural Las Vegas.

And like Las Vegas, it came with lots of gambler stalls. And during my childhood, children gambling shit wasn’t yet frowned upon the provincial society. Kids gambled like hardened hustlers, and me the city boy was really fascinated by the other kids. To me they were basically glass cannons. All rush in, no thought process.

There were only three kinds of gambling stalls I frequented, as some of the other gambling shit I had problems with.

One required dart skills to aim at mini balloons and pop as many as you can, and my small grade school physique and lack of hand-to-eye coordination meant that one was a total bust even if I hit anything (some of the balloons had no reward and the entry price wasn’t worth it for me). Another was bingo, of which was populated and dominated by the chainsmokers, town gossipers and elderly, not a place for a kid less than fifteen years of age. And I was in Ilocano land, and I knew only 6 words at most. These old people will curse me out of the bingo section without me knowing if I was being shit upon. There was another that involved playing card illustrations and a ball, but like the bingo stalls, they all featured hardened San Miguel adults with no children my age in sight. No can do with that. Also that game’s rules were a bit complicated. So for me, I gravitated towards the ones with simple rules and barely no age restrictions.

The first one with the lower cost of entry was what I termed the “table roulette”. The setup consists of a big sheltered square stall propped by 2-by-2’s. In the middle, there was a very engaged barker with a microphone (sometimes they borrow a megaphone), surrounded by all the “prizes” at stake, with a spinwheel. The square setup was lined with chairs for people to sit on, and a small portion of the outer square was where people placed their “bets” in the form of coins. There were usually assistants surrounding the square so that nobody “changes” their bet, verify winners, and to collect the coins after every round. Usually it’s either two-peso or five-peso coins, depending on the prize at stake at the moment.

That setup’s betting usually had variations:

• There was one with a spinwheel with 7 to 12 colors, the barker spins it, and people bet on which color the spinwheel marker landed on. The barker usually announced a “prize” before he spins the wheel, and people placed their bets. Uniform betting minimum usually, but the pricier items usually started at 10 pesos. I only saw this a couple of times because the probability to win was a bit high and the organizers axed it.
• The second and more elaborate (and larger) variant was pure stacked RNG but had more upfront options – the square was surrounded by at least 40 bulbs on each side, and each side had two tiers, 20 lightbulbs each. Each lightbulb corresponded with a prize picture, so that the barker does not need to sell the audience on a prize anymore. The top tier were all the “premium” prizes, like plastic drums, Tupperware imitations, decorative figurines, bathing stools, big buckets, stuffed toys. Sometimes it was color-coded with red and green usually the “jackpot” and the rest were blue or yellow, and if it’s color coded, the barker usually promotes the jackpot prize hard. Top tier meant also that the betting minimum is set at 5 pesos. Lower tier had cheap-ass low prizes like two big bags of chips, 1.5L softdrinks, a set of plastic eating bowls, a lined pack of instant coffee (10’s), a big 20-piece pack of partitioned snacks (usually they go for a peso each piece), or just money – usually 10x the minimum bet, so 20 pesos. The barker in this variant has a horizontal spinwheel with its tips hitting a rod attached to an electric current, which corresponds to lighting up one of the bulbs on each side. It made a distinctive tik-tik-tik sound. So the barker spins the wheel and the lightbulbs alternate in lighting up on each side. Basically it goes from 1 to 40 in succession, one bulb at a time each side. So every round, there could be potentially 4 winners – 1 on each side of the square booth.
• The second variant also had its own variants. Some of them still had 40 bulbs each side but with three side-by-side bulbs lighting up at a time, theoretically increasing the chances of winning. But they also decreased the top tier prizes by sandwiching it between three low tier prizes. So for every 4 bulbs, only one was the big prize. Another variant had 30 bulbs each side, still single-bulb rotation, but the top tier prizes and lower tier prizes alternated with each bulb instead of a top-row/lower-row arrangement. Just one row of bulbs, alternated between good prize and “meh” price.

I only went for the electrified spinwheel RNG variations, because the prizes were appealing and so was the setup. So whenever dad told us that we’re going to the province, I stockpiled a pouch full of coins in my bag that I saved from a few months using my allowance leftovers, so when the festival started I had some coins to use. 1-peso, 2-peso and 5-peso coins. No bills. And there were lots of chances to win. Sometimes my dad and my paternal grandmother saw me go home with big plastic buckets full of snacks and sweet stuff and they just shake their heads at the gall of their kid. It was pure RNG depending on how hard the barker spun the wheel, but luck was on my side most of the time. I didn’t care how much I lost compared to how much I spent that time, I just got addicted to the happy hits it gave me everytime I scored a win. I never got to take home my winnings, because of impracticality. I just left the non-snack things at my grandmother’s house for free use by anyone. We rode a bus to and from Isabela. Limited luggage in the bus compartment. No room for large plastic drums and such.

There was another I called the “piso” game. There were booths with a big-ass enclosed square space containing various shapes with either numbers or words. Bettors usually are sectioned off about 36 inches away from the board. You just simply throw in a 1-peso coin from that distance, and land it on the board. To win anything, your coin must be firmly within any of the drawn shapes in the board that has a prize (usually there are no-prize squares). The cheaper prizes were in bigger-sized shapes, the glitzier prices were in very smaller shapes that it would take divine intervention with a bunch of luck to win. The cheaper prizes were usually a bag of chips, a 500ml bottle of soft drink, packets of instant coffee. The nicer prizes were tableware, stuffed toys, mugs. I usually hit this booth last whenever I’m done with other gambling stalls, just wanted fun and empty out my pockets of the 1-peso kind. I kind of got good with it, so more often than not, I ended up winning some snacks. I never won the big ones though. My strats for it were just based on gauging the slipperiness of the board (some operators used a tiny bit of talcum powder to help slide the coins), which prizes I fancied, and how hard should I throw the coin. In the end I basically treated the coin like a sliding disc, I was throwing it flat-side down forward with a slight spin to have it slide across and not bounce so much. Like a frisbee, perhaps. Can’t help the bounce, the coin was still metal and I was throwing from a slight distance with elevation. The aim was to get in the middle where the better prizes were, because some of the operators put many of the no-prize squares along the sides of the throwing area. And sometimes, I got lucky with the throws that I got some bags of chips. But the fun usually evaporated quickly when I saw the kids my age just chuck the coins up there like it was a wishing well. Felt like I was competing with dumb and dumber, so usually I left to look for other booths.

But the provincial festivity gambling game that I got super addicted to was a simple dice game involving gravity and three six-sided dice made out of wood. Some bookies have these small setups where they have three dices – usually numbers 1 to 6, but some make it fancy with using letters, animal drawings, colors or worded numbers instead – perched on an elevated 60-degree platform with a makeshift dropper, people place their bets on which numbers will be face-up on each dice, and the bookie releases the dice on the dropper and letting them roll on a table, and the winning numbers were the ones that showed up on top of each dice. So for bettors – guess right, you got something. Two variations of winner reward existed:

• If the numbers were all unique, the winners of each number simply get their money doubled. If there were only two numbers face-up – one single and one repeating – the single-number winners get their money doubled, the repeat-number winners get triple their bet. If there’s only one number – triple number repeat – shown on each dice, the winners get 4 times their bet. The rest of the losers’ monies go to the bookie. This one is the most popular variation. But holy fuck the bookie was taking risks. Some bookies had put a maximum limit on how much people could bet at one time lest he goes under if he got hustled hard. Usually it’s 100 pesos, because I’ve seen bookies get a bit nervous whenever some big roller drops multiple 100’s on one number. Or sometimes the bookie changed it when he felt his payout stash growing smaller.
• Some bookies had a sign that said “doble lang” (just double). Betting winners just get double their money regardless of number frequency. It’s a low-risk, good reward for the bookie. I only saw this variation twice because, let’s face it, fun ain’t that easy to find with low risk. But compared to the first variant, this one has the most chill. The first variant attracted much rowdier crowds.

It was easily among the most popular gambling stalls on the entire perya venue for the sheer dopamine hits it could give a lucky bastard.

In my simple mind, it had the appeal of being easy to understand. But I was also quite good at math – at least if I was motivated enough to learn. Surface level, seemed to be RNG. When I first encountered it, I just simply watched. No bets. Just look and studied intently at how things went and see what I can do with it, then went back to the simpler gambling stalls. By the second summer back, I had a set of strategies and I stuck with it:

• I read a math book in the school library that detailed the “three dice” problem. Not happenstance – I was deliberately looking for ways to get good at dice. The only useful rule I got in that book to help me was to concentrate on sums. Lowest sum is 3 (three 1’s), highest sum is 18 (three 6’s). It had listed all the probabilities of each sum to come up, and I just concentrated my bets on numbers that could be in a three-number sum between 9 and 12. If the stall had colors instead of numbers, I just assigned numbers to them in my head and treated them the same.
• I spread my bets to cover my ass. Usually five pesos between 5, 4, 3, 2. Sometimes I bet on a 6 as well just for the fun of it. But I never bet on 1, just because I viewed it as a low number for sums (see above).
• I always checked which numbers on the dice was facing the bookie’s dropper. The bookie always randomized the dice arrangement for each round. For example, the dropper side facing the bookie had 6, 3 and 4. So I bet on the numbers in the top, bottom and back of each dice including the facing number, avoiding the two numbers on each left-right of the dice. Cross-compare with the other two. No math here really, just gut feeling to help narrow down my options to 3 numbers.

Basically, I used some probability to prop up my chances of winning. With a sprinkling of gut feel. Initially I was timid and was just putting 5-peso coins on 3 numbers at a time, of which total was between 9 and 12 (I change totals per round). When I got a bit better and bolder, I was putting coins in 4 numbers at a time. And most of the time, I won enough to at least double my money. It soon became my de facto gambling stall because I was winning just enough to recoup my money and earn me double. Of all the bettors, I assumed that I was the only one playing with actual strategy. Some days I started with 50 pesos at 5PM and I came back in 3 hours with 100, sometimes more.

Problem was, I got good at it. First three days of perya, no problem. Fourth day is usually when the bookies noticed the repeat customers, and I was a customer that won most of the time. So my strategy next included stallhopping – I jump from one dice stall to another, alternating between that and the other aforementioned gambling spots. Sometimes I brought a cap with me or I removed my glasses. But one general disciplinary rule I had kept for myself – I never dip beyond my budget. If I brought 100 pesos that night, that’s it. No replenishing.

After five days, I usually have doubled my initial stash. Came in with 400 or 500, usually I went back to Manila with double. And I usually spent it on sweets. See, my dad usually rode a bus liner from Baliwag Bus. It was the one along EDSA with the green logo with a hat in it. It was the only liner he knew that went to Santiago, Isabela that used a route he liked, and he said the bus had wider seats and did not skimp on airconditioning. And that bus usually paused route at four bus stops, each having a store that sold local provincial goods. I splurged some of my winnings on snacks, and those lasted me for the last remaining weeks between May and June.

Looking back at it almost 3 decades later, some vividly because they stuck with me over the years, I knew that I was good at math back then – only if it interested me. Some maths piqued my interest, some were snoozefests. I was good at trigonometry, algebra, statistics, and physics in high school, but I sucked at chemistry and calculus (but in college I kind of liked it a bit). Same with gambling in perya. If it was interesting, I’ll try to get good at it.

Second thing, I am a big tryhard even back then. I did not have to think the shit out of the dice game. Sure, I was motivated by money. But I tried anyway. In the smaller picture, I tried hard at shit that just have material rewards, but bigger picture was it instilled in me a desire to try and be the best in some games I played. I feel it every time I play a JRPG. If a boss was difficult to defeat at first, I spend hours devising the best build of grinding for more levels and coming back to whoop ass.

And third, I was lucky that the occasional gambling things did not result in me being addicted to it. Sure, I definitely liked the rush. The excitement. But I grew up poor, and I knew the value of money very keenly. My daily school allowance was just snack money for many of the rich classmates I had. But the money I brought with me to the province was money I either already saved from the leftovers of my allowance or earned from doing odd favors at home (such as plucking white hairs out of my old man’s hair), so I felt I was playing with house money. And I viewed the gambling as just occasional fun and not business. Still, fortunate that I didn’t end up as a bad gambling junkie.

But writing this, I kind of miss it.

I do remember similar perya events that popped up near Commonwealth Avenue around 2013, and I tried the familiar dice-rolling booths and came away like I missed a wide prime of time. First, the city bookies were very sharp back then. They were able to sniff out hustlers with ease. Second, city boys are more deranged compared to provincial boys. Hustlers with extra stank. So I was gambling alongside pickpockets and solvent-inhalers, and boy these guys were good with sleight of hand. So the bookies also had to have keen eyes and a good memory. And third, a big majority of the bookies already realized that the three-dice setup was already broken, so they started to stack the deck in their favor. For example, introducing four and five dices. Or four dices, of which every second dice is numbered 7-12. Or still three dice but shaving/rounding off the tips of the dices so it rolls more randomly and prevent roll-counting people. Or using 12 options instead of 6. And I’ve heard they had reasons to be more cutthroat – in the city, the barangay officials had some unscrupulous people looking to monetize their “blind eye”, so to speak. Silence tax. I’ve observed one dude that came around 10PM in the perya, go to each of the dice bookies and collect money, then crossed the overhead bridge and walked towards the barangay officials’ building.

I tried gambling there again after half a decade (last I visited Isabela with dad was 2007, and stopped when my grandma died and he found little reason to go back after), and man, I could only muster to keep my money. Bet 10, win 10, lose 10 later. Half my mind was on the gambling and half was alert to the other bettors that could’ve been pickpockets. Distraction.

So that was the very last time I tried gambling with the dice-rollers. Of course, the city perya also had the familiar bulb roulette and the “piso” throw-coin tables, and I wagered some for funsies. Prizes were also cheap, like bags of chips or a bottle of soda. The roulette had more city-oriented prizes, though, like cheap China-made phones or a pack of detergent sachets. Those were still fun, mind you. Last time I was at a perya was 2017, one year before I left for Singapore.

I kind of wish to try them again, though. Just for fun and see what’s up with it before the winds of change blow by again.

But for now… doing hoops and trying out the machines at Timezone will do. Or stocks.