Welcome to Delta Downs

Cost of admission: your sanity and the use of one lung.

I took some time off from one of my jobs to get adequately rested and ready for an upcoming tournament, which meant that my weekend was free. Two of my teammates had fights yesterday at the Delta Downs event center, so I decided to go. Plus, I’ve only been through Louisiana, but never to it, so, I figured what the hell. Taking I-10 to Austin is a nice trip; taking it west to Louisiana really sucks. According to all of the billboards, the world’s best everything lies on the Texas-Louisiana border. Who knew?

So, after what felt like a longer ride than it was, we came two a secluded two lane road that surely could not have lead to a big casino, right? Wrong, according to the directions on the billboard. We drove down this little road that was lined with what looked to have been meth houses, houses with little to no paint, and lots of mobile homes and RVs with tie downs (they’re there for the long haul, apparently), when suddenly, poof, there’s a giant casino and horse track. Think of a mirage in the middle of a desert, and that’s the impression I got.

The mirage turned out to be pretty messed up. The casino’s exterior looks like someone really loves pink flamingos. Upon entering the place, I expected to see numerous ambulances because the patrons of this place are the very same people you see at Golden Corals, Luby’s, and every other buffet/steak house in the south. When I actually walked into the place, cigarette smoke hit me right in the lungs. It actually became hard to breathe. I used to think concerts were bad about ventilation, but not anymore. I already felt like I was on another planet. Then I went to the bathroom.

When I was washing my hands, I looked at the wall next to me, wondering what the red box was all about. As it turns out, the casino has a “sharps disposal” box. The fact that it was there was not as disturbing as the fact that it was full of syringes. Full. So wait, are you trying to tell me that diabetes and an unhealthy lifestyle are somehow related? Get out of town.

I then went with my group to get some food. Thankfully, no one wanted the buffet, so we opted to get financially raped to eat some real food, which turned out to be fairly bland for the price. The water had enough minerals and crap in it to make you sick. I felt out of place enough to do three shots of tequila when my group decided to do some shots. My comfort level did not improve.

While the fighters were getting ready, I hit the casino. I had never gambled before, so I figured I’d give it a shot. I was going to place blackjack or roulette, but the only, I mean only thing they had were slot machines, and they all made noise. Three tequila shots, suffocating tobacco smoke, and thousands of noisy slot machines make for an out of body experience. I put twenty bucks into a machine, at one point was up five, but eventually lost it. I don’t see how anyone thinks that playing slots is fun.

The people watching was great though. Apparently, Louisianans don’t like flowers. I noticed that people would pick, hit and kick the flowers on this one plant on the way into the casino, and not just children either. The best person I saw all day though looked just like the “teenage girl” from the show Little Britain. I couldn’t tell her age, but she looked far too young to have a three year old. She even had the plumber’s crack going on. John, I know you’re jealous. For those of you who don’t watch the show, here’s a visual:






After that the day greatly improved. Fight time. My instructor was able to get all of us backstage passes, which enabled us to go wherever we wanted. I milked my privileges and walked backstage to watch the fighters warming up. When I found my teammates, I was able to help them get ready as well. I held Thai Pads for one of my teammates while the other went and fought. When the second guy went out, I got to stand cage side to watch the fights. My teammates went 1 and 1 for the night. One lost to an arm-bar and the other won by TKO. No injuries though, so that’s good. I got to sit right next to the cage for the rest of the fights, right next to the EMTs. Some really good fights, and a really good organization too. They even had a guy who sounds just like James Earl Jones announcing the fights. The only problem I had with him is that he doesn’t know the plural for “foot.” You know, “he stands 5 foot 10 inches tall.” I forgot that I was in Louisiana. I even saw my first female MMA match, and even sat with and talked to the winner. If and when I fight, I hope the show is run just like this one.

After the fights, everyone met up in the lobby. Some drank, some drank too much, while I ate. Fried catfish. It was awful. There was, however, a soul cover band playing, and they were really good. They covered the likes of the Four Tops, Tina Turner, and regrettably, Usher, but even the shitty songs were done well.

We were all pretty beat by then, so we decided to skip the cross burning and head on home. All in all, a good, though bizarre day.