A quite extraordinary thing happened last weekend in Reno, Nevada. Through some bizarre alignment of the stars, I proved to be the finest poker player that town has ever seen, in my weight division. Between the hours of 1 and 4pm on Monday afternoon, I enjoyed the textbook definition what all gamblers live for, an unstoppable streak.Performing beyond what is considered humanly possible, I cleaned out everyone at the table, just took their money and chased them all away. The casino promptly closed the game down until after I left town. I kid you not. It must have been the mountain air.

I only won $140, since this was a $1 game. My performance was so flawless that after the casino closed its table, every casino in town suddenly turned out not to have a table I could play at. I was too good for my own good. I tell you this not to boast, but because I hope to persuade you not to allow gambling to become more than an occasional part of your life. And, OK, to boast.

As sensational as my play was, and they will sing of my deeds wherever gamblers gather, it was only the second time in a long history of occasional gambling that I have recorded a significant win. On more or less every other occasion that I've played, I have broken even, which is fast becoming something of a specialty of mine, or lost. On balance, across the years, I'm a loser.

So is almost everyone else who gambles. That's the thing about gambling. Think about it: the casinos are giant corporations worth billions, with exotic buildings and staffs of thousands. You have only a $10 bill and the vague certainty that you can show these guys a thing or two.

That's why I play poker. All other casino games favour the house. A streak, however, works across all dimensions, since while I was waiting for a poker table to open up, I had the chance to give a blackjack table the thrashing it deserved. The blackjack tables remained open, however; this was merely warming up.

Boy, was it a heady feeling. When it was over, and I retired undefeated from the Reno poker scene, I walked with a bounce I often lack. One of the best movies on the subject is "Let it Ride", with Richard Dreyfuss enjoying something more financially rewarding than my experience, but essentially portraying the same glorious ideal.

Seven men sat at the poker table when I arrived, hardened card players all, and seven men left. The last three gave up in disgust simultaneously. That's when the casino, which might well have been the Eldorado, declared the table closed. I went off to play blackjack with a crowd of Asian people and once again earned a small fee for my time. I can't ever recall winning at blackjack, other than last Monday.

The casino wasn't having it. When we went back that evening to sandbag some more bad card players, the casino declared the table still closed. Then I was informed that every other table I wanted to play at in town was closed, too. Future generations will sing of my glory. If you want to rub my shoes for good luck, it'll cost you a dollar.

A few details might provide a little context. I like to play stud poker, seven-card if possible. The fashion in poker has moved on from stud, however, to Texas and other hold-ems. The stud table we found at the Eldorado was the only one in operation in the whole town, that night. My ridiculous run of luck gave the Eldorado a chance to employ one fewer dealer to run what is, for the house, not a lucrative game.

Best practice with such windfalls is, of course, to immediately place them into a savings programme, but one often doesn't do that. Easy come, it is said, easy go. A part of my windfall went on a slap-up dinner at the finest steakhouse Reno had to offer, and the balance was returned to the local economy via a lesson I took in how to play Texas hold-em. I did OK for a while, then lost my entire pile in two hands. Financially, my Reno trip was a wash, net of everything but the hotel. I won't play hold-em again. It's for bullies and is the dullest game imaginable.

Not being a serious gambler, I think that walking away even, with one's reputation enhanced, is as good as it can reasonably be expected to get. Gambling is, ultimately, a pastime like any other. The more time you devote to it, the more it costs you. Maybe one day, you might end up winning a huge contest, as did Chris Furbert of the BIU a year or two back, but becoming that good requires so much practice that most of us would go broke in the process.

Gambling, rightly, is prohibited in many places and tightly controlled everywhere it is allowed. Like alcohol, drugs or stamp collecting, it can become an all-consuming addiction and cause great damage. If you can resist its worst excesses and treat it now and then as the entertainment it is, gaming can apparently provide a memorable experience.

Take it from the man who closed the tables down at Reno.