Always Double Down on 11

I'm sure for every cancer patient the disease takes form in different ways.  It may be a character on TV that they hate, a college class they failed, a hard day at work, or a rival team that they despise.  Regardless I can only assume it is something that is genuinely disliked, but a hurdle they have to get over.  Well for Big Don cancer showed up last weekend in the form of a middle aged, slightly overweight, loud-mouthed, know-it-all, throwing money around at the Indian casino like he was in the VIP room at Bellagio.  And perhaps Big Don took the last blog a little bit too literally.

Now let me back up a second.  Last weekend in Phoenix was by far the most exciting weekend we have had in years, regardless of cancer.  Too much action in fact for just one blog so I better stick to Friday.  The idea was to go to Phoenix, catch the Arizona Cardinals game, share some laughs and good times.  The usual suspects were in town plus my dad's brother Joe and my dad's dad Big Big Don aka Senior.  If you would have been at dinner with us you would never have guessed how the night would play out.  Big Don struggled a bit with finishing his meal, which is a big deal these days, and looked like he may need to go to bed before the ten o'clock Sportscenter.  When we got back home Senior went to bed and Bob headed home as is the usual sequence.  As we were saying our goodnights Big Don decided he wanted to go to the casino.  You have to understand that Big Don loves the casino, I'm not sure why, he usually sits at the blackjack table head in hands pulling his hair out over whether or not to hit, but he has cancer and well we do what he wants.  So seven of us piled into the car and headed to the casino.  Mom stayed home and gave me strict instruction to watch out for dad, easy enough I thought.  We got to the casino, sat down at the ten dollar table, and off we went. Big Don with me next to him, more to borrow his money than for me to watch out for him.  Immediately upon sitting down the aforementioned gentlemen, lets call him Daryl, starts running his mouth about Big Don's bald head and telling everyone how to play.  Innocent enough but he got some liquid courage and couldn't stop with his comments.  So we leave right, no way the table is hot.  Uncle Joe is up, Lindsey is up, I'm up, even Big Don is up.  Well finally after about an hour I'm thinking we should head home, bed time for Big Don and his tumor.  "Nope I'm good" he says, again the whole cancer thing, its like a golden ticket, so we stay.  Next hand Big Don gets an eleven, dealer has 10 showing so he just hits, no double down.  Of course he gets a ten, but a wins a win, until Daryl opens his fat trap.  He proceeded to call Big Don a name that does not bare repeating, suffice it to say that it was not the most flattering way to describe a private body part.  Before I can even look over Big Don jumps up from the seat and says "You don't call me a bleep you bleeping bleep bleep (a lot of bleeps).  Well Daryl thinks its on and shouts back which pushed the rest of the group over the edge and a shouting match ensued.  At one point Daryl says he is going to kick Big Dons butt, to which Big Don says there would be about ten guys on you so fast you wouldn't know what hit you.  All I can think is he probably is underestimating that, based on all of the love we have received the last few months I think he might have had 1000 guys on him so fast he wouldn't have known what to do.  Finally security shows up and long story longer we get escorted out, but not before we cash out and take the casino for about $1000 dollars all together.  The smile on Big Don's face as we got escorted out was priceless.  Walking out with his entourage and the security guards, cancer was the last thing on his mind.  Awesome. 

So thank you Daryl, I'm sorry Mom, and Casino Arizona I will see you next year when you lift our ban.

That was only Friday.