In the distance ahead, you see the craps tables. You check the wad of cash in your front pocket for the 5th time to ensure it’s still there. You walk into a fancy casino, lights flash and blink, slot machines chime their attention-grabbing tunes. Forty years later, every time I’m at a craps table, I see people doing the exact same thing I did, feeling the exact same anxiety. On about the 10th pass around the casino floor, I finally mustered enough nerve and forced myself to play. I knew everything about the game, but I was still afraid. I knew the difference between a good bet and a bad bet. I knew the odds and house advantages for all the different bets. Regardless of the fact that I knew the game inside and out, I was terrified of doing something wrong or stupid and looking like a helpless newbie. I walked the casino floor in circles passing the craps tables, time after time, hoping with each pass to get enough courage to take an open spot at the table. I was so scared that I couldn’t even approach the table.
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