It’s no wonder Bally’s Holiday Backjack Tournament for Charity is such as success. You can’t lose.

I didn’t quite believe it when I was invited to the tournament years ago. I was to play for the benefit of the Rhode Island Academic Decathlon, an annual competition open to all Ocean State high schools first held in 1983 at the Community College of Rhode Island. No matter the cards I was dealt, I would bring home $1,000 for the decathlon, with the possibility of making it to the table of champions with a grand prize of $10,000.

This sounded too good to be true. The decathlon needed the financial help and Bally’s was prepared to help. I signed right up.

Did I know much about blackjack? No? Had I gambled before? Well, yes although my experience as a 9-year-old didn’t turn out the way my father planned.

The family was on a boat trip. It was exciting being out at sea, watching the waves and the birds following in our wake. My younger sister and I slept in bunk beds and stayed up late to have dinner with our parents. It was a new world for us.

My father thought it would be fun to stay up and witness the nightlife aboard. I was delighted with the prospect. Staying up late was a rare privilege. I quickly learned, however, watching adults dance is a yawner. But then the evening changed. There was going to be horse racing. That had me anxious to learn more.

Horse racing on a ship? Where were the horses and where would they race?

“Wait and see,” my father instructed. Shorty, three-foot-high horse cutouts were placed on a circular track in the middle of the dance floor. Stewards circled among the tables passing out sheets listing names for the horses. My father passed me a sheet along with a quarter and told me to bet on which horse would win the race. Could I keep the quarter (which was a lot of money even for a 9-year-old back then)?  No, I had to bet it.  That seemed like a waste to me but I looked down the list and picked a name I liked. The steward went off with “my” money and the sheet.

Then the horses were off, jumping forward as they advanced with a toss of the dice. With each toss the names of the leading horses were announced. My pick was near the top and with the final roll of the dice, he was the winner. This was not what my father expected. I couldn’t believe it. “My” quarter had multiplied many times over.

He turned to me, “I think it’s time for you to go to bed.”

“But Daddy,” I protested.

All right, he agreed, “another race.” He insisted I put all the money on that horse. I didn’t even get to keep the initial quarter.

I won that one, too. Now the quarters were tuning into dollars and those at nearby tables wanted to know the “kid’s pick” for the next race.  Lady luck was with me. I won that one, too.

My father’s efforts to teach me the ills of gambling had failed. That was it. He wasn’t going to risk my winning again. The money was to go into a saving account.

Of course there’s more to playing blackjack than the random advancement of horse cutout with the toss of dice. I picked up some pointers from Larry Goldberg, who occasionally spoke of his poker winnings at Rotary Club meetings. But honestly, it made little difference.

Upon arriving at Twin River I was welcomed into a room with high tables, and white-gloved servers were stationed at platters of appetizers. The crowd was made up of state legislators and nonprofit executives. There was also a smattering of media. When it was time to play, we cut through a room filled with slot machines to an array of card tables. We were each given $2,000 in chips to wager. No, you didn’t get to keep the chips either.

We played five hands after which the player with the most chips advanced to the table of champions. I made it to the table a couple of times over the years and was lucky enough to win more than $3,000 for the decathlon one year. In total, Bally’s donates $60,000 to Rhode Island charities during the event.

This year, in fact today, Michaela Brockmann, vice president of the decathlon board, will be playing for the benefit of the organization. I can count on her coming back with $1,000.  That much is a given thanks to Bally’s.

Would I bet she’ll come home with more for the decathlon?

My father would let me do it, although he wasn’t a gambler. In this case, so many nonprofits from the decathlon to the Warwick Boys & Girls Clubs are winners … it’s not a gamble. Thanks Bally’s.