Off the Glass and on the Road February, 1997

by Laurel Blackburn I finally went on my first road trip. It didn't take much to convince my husband Rick. The lure was a weekend without the kids, an exciting hockey game and oh yeah, two nights of pure unadulterated gambling, (I think it was the gambling that sent him packing his overnight bag).

We decided to leave on Friday night instead of waiting and taking the bus on Saturday morning. When you have a two year old, getting out of town quickly becomes a priority.

It seems we couldn't drive fast enough. We took turns driving and studying our well worn copies of "How to Win at Casino Games". We got to the hotel around 11:00 PM, tossed our bags in the room, grabbed some money and headed for the casino. It wasn't hard to find, we followed the "ching ching ching" sound and the thick trail of smoke. It wasn't long before Rick was belly up to a black jack table, which left me wandering around deciding what game to play.

Now I don't know about you guys but I feel I have some sort of psychic ability when it comes to casino games. I circle the slot machines like a vulture trying to pick up the vibes of a hot machine. When I think I've locked on to a winner I sit and start pumping in the coins.

It didn't take long to figure out that my psychic powers had failed me.

I keep pumping in the coins though because I knew that if I stopped, some guy was gonna come along with his one lousy coin and drop it in my machine on his way to the bathroom and come out a million dollar winner. Gambling is so stressful.

I decided that the slot machines are not my game. I started my circling behavior around the roulette tables. I finally settled on the one table with higher odds.

They play the way the Europeans do, with just one zero. Feeling lucky, I slapped my $20.00 on the table, collected my chips and commenced to a gamblin'. This is the one game where I totally rely on psychic powers to pick the right numbers. I thought it would be fitting in with the weekend if I placed my chips on the numbers of my favorite players (what a mistake that was). I was out of there before my waitress could return with my complimentary drink.

The next morning all I could think about was the game. It was exciting to see Tiger Sharks apparel all over the hotel. Rick and I attended the Las Vegas style show followed by the Fan-Atics pep rally. The noise level in there was just a glimpse of what was about to come. The fans were pumped up and ready to go, yet the game was still two hours away. Back to the casino.

Most of the fans took the buses to the game, while the rest of us took the pepto-bismol pink hotel shuttle. We arrived safely and immediately started running to the glass to let the Tiger Sharks know we were there. I was surprised to find out that we filled an entire section at the Coliseum. So were the four Sea Wolves fans that held season tickets in that same section. We quickly became friends out of sheer necessity.

I can't begin to describe the energy and spirit that we had that night, all I know is that I screamed louder than I have ever screamed in my life. Rick almost passed out from horn blowing and several others in our row almost puked. At times I think we were louder than the Sea Wolves fans. Even as victory slipped away and the abuse from fans became common, we kept our spirits and our dignity.

Rick and I picked up a local paper on our way out of town the next morning. I was expecting to find a little article on the game. What I found was three pages of Sea Wolves hockey news, with headlines big enough to rival the old "Nixon Resigns" days. I began to understand Biloxi's passion for their Sea Wolves, I almost feel sorry for them. They have nothing out there to get excited about, those poor, poor Sea Wolves. I left Mississippi feeling proud, not only of our team but of our fans and our city.