I used to just scratch $1 Lotto tickets.

Some of the reasoning for going to a casino was to kick my Lotto habit. In hindsight, maybe I should have stuck with Lotto.

So I made my first trip to Turning Stone Resort and Casino from just outside New York City nearly two years ago. I expected Turning Stone-or ‘The Stone’ as regulars call it-to be a downtrodden casino, but I was pleasantly surprised. There’s a plethora of slot machines, tables for all variations of card games and plenty of roulette wheels for those who love the sport of gambling.

Yes, it takes enough concentration and strength to weather the roller coaster of emotions for me to proclaim it a sport-if hunting, fishing and curling count.

All this, including a gambling age of 18, is located in Verona, N.Y., only 40 minutes from the Syracuse campus. Mark Emery, director of media relations at Turning Stone, said the site attracts four-and-a-half million people each year.

Emery added the casino doesn’t market to schools like Syracuse. The casino does advertise for entertainment, which Turning Stone offers along with premiere golf and lodging.

‘Gaming is just one part of it,’ Emery said. ‘People come for a variety of reasons; resorts like us are all about choice.’

For some reason, Mariah Carey’s comeback tour doesn’t attract me to Turning Stone. If you avoid the casino floor, you’ve got an iron will.

I first stepped onto that floor and peeked into the poker room, but saw too many Phil Ivey imitators, complete with headphones and sunglasses. Outside of the poker room, the slot machines rang, winners shouted, and there were smiles everywhere.

I started at roulette and acey deucey. But in the six or seven times I’ve been since, Blackjack is my game. It’s fast, wild and easily destructive.

For those wondering, the casino is on the land of the Oneida Indian Nation, where laws allow the nation to lower the gambling age to 18. I first heard about this at a Syracuse information session in New York City. When Dean Rubin said there was a casino less than an hour away, legal for 18 and over, I grinned at my father.

My dad, the strict straight-arrow man he is, shot me the ‘don’t be smiling about that’ look. But as long as you have your own bankroll, Turning Stone is your opportunity to win-or to be decimated.

But that’s the fun of gambling-knowing what’s at stake. You’re also paying for entertainment-sometimes it’s just not the entertainment you’re looking for. Take the other night, when I made the trip to The Stone, only to lose nearly $200 in 45 minutes.

Remember how you felt after Syracuse couldn’t put the ball in the endzone with seven tries from inside the 2-yard line? Well, multiply that by 10, and that’s how you feel at the Blackjack table when your stack disappears faster than William Hung’s career.

So why? Why put yourself through that? Well, the prospect of winning doesn’t hurt. And, for some, it’s just fun.

‘Some people use their money to buy material things like iPods and Playstations,’ said friend and fellow gambling buddy Jeremy Nathaniel, a junior at Tufts University. ‘I would rather use my money to buy the thrill and excitement that comes with gambling. I’m never all that devastated when I lose, because, as unhealthy as it is, I feel fulfilled.’

There’s also just something about driving on I-90 and seeing the tower of the hotel with the Turning Stone logo on top. If you haven’t done it, I suggest you do at least once before you graduate.

‘I always get giddy when I see it,’ Nathaniel said. ‘It sounds incredibly clich, but it really feels like everyone in the car has morphed into an 8-year-old on Christmas morning.’

While it’s crazier when you make the trip over three-and-a-half hours from NYC, you still get goose bumps coming from Syracuse. The drive there is filled with excitement and talks of strategy and prospects of winning. Usually the drive home is a somber time to reflect on your losses, but hey, call it foolish youth.

Recently, as one could tell from my pessimism, I’m on quite a losing streak. In possession of a car for the first two weeks of school, I went twice before I had to give it back to my brother. Mix that in with a bad summer night, and it’s probably a blessing in disguise that I had to give up the car.

But don’t let my experiences stop you. Although I’m taking a few months off (or so I tell myself), that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t take the trip to Verona with the prospects of a night you’ll cherish, or one you’ll regret as soon as you step out of the casino.

Go ahead, roll the dice. Even if you lose, maybe it’ll help kick your Lotto habit.