Se7en Deadly Sins of Gambling

Somewhere between the ultra-creepy Nine Inch Nails intro and discovering what was in the cardboard box, the cerebral Detective Somerset (Morgan Freeman) lays it all out for us about the Seven Deadly Sins.

These major no-no’s date back to the biblical writings of Dante Alighieri and Saint Thomas Aquinas and signify those pesky little demons dwelling within each of us.

According to the villainous John Doe (Kevin Spacey), it is this type of immorality responsible for our societal decay, turning it into a wasteland of derelicts and evildoers.

Sifting through two hours of gruesome crime scenes, an unnerving foot chase, and a whale of a climactic finale, it all leaves us to ponder our own dirty little temptations each time we breathe casino oxygen.

Let’s revisit the Seven Dealy Sins and explore how they apply to the proverbial dice roller in all of us.

Gluttony

Gluttony's a Killer

At the outset of the David Fincher masterpiece, we beam light upon the corpse of a bona fide porker who apparently has croaked from whoofing down too many cans of SpaghettiOs.

Such is the perfect metaphor for the guy who overindulges in casino play, squandering hour upon hour, day after day, ingesting all the wagering he can stomach. He is the thrill seeker, the jackpot chaser, the guy whose gambling appetite is never quite satiated.

Remember, moderation for all your earthly endeavors is a good thing, be it junk food, alcohol, video games – you name it. Likewise, it is critical to limit your gambling to healthy proportions, and not to devour too much time calling bluffs and chasing bonuses. Like that 300-pound tubby drowning in spaghetti sauce, you’ll eventually become a victim.

Greed

If the deadly sins were a school of sting rays, greed is easily its great white shark. Nothing has devoured more players like the cardinal of all gambling sin. Too many potential mega-scores have swiftly gone bad due to an ugly little thing called greed.

You know exactly how it works. You’ve rung up a cool G at the baccarat table, knowing well your next move should be the one to the cashier’s window. But no, the prospect of $1,500 keeps your ass stuck to the leather. Once that milestone is achieved, two Gs are now in your scope. You continually chase a ceiling you can’t quite define because the concept of enough simply doesn’t exist.

Eventually, that cold wave sweeps the table, things turn south, and you’re now chasing to “get back to where you were.” When this happens, it means greed has sunk its lethal hooks into you and is beginning to reel you in. Unfortunately, your gains continue to dwindle until you’re eventually back to nothing, or God forbid, submerge underwater.

Sloth

Of Doe’s victims in the 1995 thriller, sloth is easily its most cringe-worthy, and the only one not technically dead ... yet. But he may as well be.

You, too, have been dormant for so long, lounging at that poker table with nary an aggressive move, that you may as well be a corpse, too.

Your irrelevance at that table stems from a complete lack of initiative. While we always advise a conservative approach, there’s also such a thing as playing it too safe.

The craps table may be searing hot, the shooter throwing everything but the restroom sink, and you’re wasting away on the pass line. Or you’ve pulled in eight straight wins on the blackjack table and are still waddling along with the table minimum.

Such dormancy may require a pulse check, as nobody remembers the zero, only the hero.

Lust

They’re scrambled like candy in front of you in a medley of delicious colors. Red ones, green ones, black ones, even pink ones – they all make your lips wet. You may even like the clickety-click they make as your straddle them between your fingertips.

You may’ve fallen into deep lust with your casino chips.

Well, the desire you feel for these 39-milimeter beauties may not be so much of a libidinous sense. But your rabid craving for casino gameplay could only be described as primal.

Perhaps you’ve never forgotten your first time of one-upping the house. It ignited a fiery passion that never quite extinguished, and the prospect of recapturing it only gets you more hot and bothered.

Developing a healthy ardor for gambling is one thing. Just beware of it reaching levels of gotta have it. Incorporating other interests into your life limits your desires to respectable doses.

And let’s hope that bulge in your pants is a stack of casino chips.

Pride

You’re locked in a furious battle. After slipping into a deep deficit, you’ve mounted a nifty little comeback and are closing in on breaking even. However, getting back to point A proves more elusive than you imagined.

You claw yourself back to a place where the losses would be minimal, merely chump change.

And yet, you can’t walk away. Nope. You have to come out on top.

That’s pride effin’ with you.

Ego often plays into your inability to walk away – even when logic is urging you as much. It’s like when you couldn’t lose that checkers game to your baby sister or succumb to your old man in the hoops version of 21.  

In this slugfest against the house, there’s an unofficial scorecard in your head, and your competitive juices are at full throttle. Even if it’s a measly five dollars, you must prevail over the House.

Well, cutting your losses is often the smart move. Otherwise, regret will haunt you when your deficit submerges back to its earlier depths.  

Remember, reducing a gargantuan loss is a victory in itself. It’s critical to accept the “can’t win ‘em all” reality – and leave pride behind in the casino lobby.

Envy

The place is jumpin’. Celebrations are ablaze from the blackjack section to the sports book all the way down to the corner slots.

Perhaps it’s your table neighbor harboring an avalanche of colored chips. Or some lucky SOB who plopped down at the Fire Link beside you and rang up a seven-G score on the third spin.

Meantime, you’re down to mere crumbs – a handful of white chips – knowing you’ll be passing up the dinner buffet for the food court.

As you soak in all the surrounding euphoria, you have but one question:

Why can’t that be me?

Envy can become a fatal commodity. Remember, not every day is your day. Lucky Leprechaun, Debbie Downer, or Even Steven, your identity will change repeatedly throughout your gambling career.

Never force the issue. Remain happy for thy neighbor and swallow that serving of envy ‘til it’s your turn on top.

Wrath

As the fiery Detective Mills, Brad Pitt scampers through Se7en with the combustibility of a time bomb, self-admittedly feeding off his fury. 

“We have to divorce ourselves from emotion here,” a composed Somerset reminds him. “No matter how hard it is, we have to remain focused on the details.”

Precisely. Nothing can negatively influence your play like that of a mind seething with anger. After all, emotional detachment is a critical ingredient to any successful outing, gambling or otherwise.

Wrath in any form is a recipe for failure. Harboring ill-will toward dealers, other players, the lighting, the lagging drink service, or the Neil Diamond tune humming through the speakers, it will almost certainly manifest itself in a giant ball of negative karma.

Always walk away and let the vengeance vibes dissipate. Keep all your emotions in check.

Remember – it’s never, ever a good thing to lose your head.

Just ask Gweneth Paltrow.

-- TB