and the Eel. Like I said, the latter two need to spend a little more time in bars. Bradley beats Cassie again and it looks like this contest is over.

Memorizing Cards. It’s a repeat of the second-round tiebreaker. Cassie nails 15 cards and now trails Bradley by about $1,000. He’ll get it back on the next game.

Shuffling chips takes some strange turns. Starting with Bradley, they each have to shuffle a stack of six chips. The next person adds two and so on. If they hit 20, they get even money on their wagers. There’s a huge bonus for every chip over 20. The Eel handles the chips like he’s wearing boxing gloves and can’t stack a measly eight. Har! It comes all the way back to Mickey. Although he regularly puts out $5,000 bets in a casino with all the emotion of Spock, here, he’s trembling like a Chihuahua with a bladder problem. He wants that trophy. It’s not about the money anymore. He almost pukes when his pile falls over.

Now it’s High Noon as Cassie and Bradley stare each other down and go chip for chip. Mike hits his 20, but can’t go any farther. Cassie annihilates the old record and piles up 26 before she falters. What the hell is an Ivy Leaguer doing shuffling chips like this? It’s not right. I’d protest, but I’m in charge. My bet’s looking shaky, as it’s anyone’s title going into the final game.

Last hand, blackjack, basic strategy only.

Players can bet up to everything they have. And they can wager on either the dealer or player’s hand. Mickey, Moray, and Cassie bet everything on the dealer. Bradley puts half his bet on the player.

The player gets 12, the dealer has a 3 up. The player hits a five for a total of 17. The dealer has a four in the hole and hits it with an Ace. Cassie wins.

What?

Cassie wins!

It’s bedlam as the crowd erupts with screams and jeers.

" Gender-biased testing!" the Ivy’s roar.

" She cheated, they cheated, you cheated," the Vegas guys bleat.

" I’m never having this party again," I whisper to myself as I watch her hoist the trophy over her head.

She did it fair and square, but you’ve still got to ask yourself, "Can a woman be the best blackjack player in the world?"

Well, for this night at least–actually, for the rest of the year till the next party–a woman is. And she’s got her name on the Blackjack Cup to prove it.
As the happy winners and grumpy losers clomp back upstairs to collect their winnings and drown their sorrows, Cassie and I sit alone at the table. With each well-lubricated toast she giggles ever more, then stops and stares wonderingly at the trophy. I ask her how it feels to pull off the greatest upset in the history of table sports. She pensively strokes the cup, reflecting on the road she’s chosen and the opportunities that have passed. Then she looks at me with a wry smile and says, "It’s awesome!"
And she’s right.