MISSOURI WATCH: MORE GAMBLING DECISIONS FOR MISSOURI

There are numerous words of wisdom when it comes to gambling: No. 1, never bet against the guy who sets the odds. And, No. 2, never bet more than you can afford to lose. These pearls of gaming advice come not from any wealth of experience I might have, since I don't gamble at all, but from my father who loved it with a passion that only a young reporter-who-liked-to-shoot-craps-with-local-railroad crews could impart. Although he would be indicted for his juvenile sins, thereby besmirching the family name, my father did not mitigate his fascination for the gaming art and would grow to manhood regularly playing poker with political friends that included several governors and one who, while remaining anonymous for this piece, would reach high office in Washington.

Gambling, however, is not all fun and games, and the rules set forth above, while seeming to be little more than gratuitous advice, have been broken by, of all people, the folks who own and manage the 16 casino licenses in the state. Members of the Missouri Riverboat Gaming Association have not only bet against the guy who makes the odds (the state of Missouri), they have also placed themselves in the position of losing more than they can afford. Talk about irony.

First, let it be noted that most of the state's casino licensees swear they are losing money and promise to provide figures to prove their statement. For an industry that had adjusted gross receipts of slightly more than $650 million in the year recently ended, this is a certifiable anomaly. Before the days of Bill Gates and seemingly everyone else in the computer industry, this used to be big money, and it still is to most of us who are left to wonder how, with revenues of $650 million, anyone could wind up with a loss. Apparently most of these allegedly shrewd businessmen and women engaged in the business of betting have done so, or there are a lot of liars in the certified public accounting trade.

This tragic rolling of the dice by casino owners is allegedly the fault of the state of Missouri and its royally entertained Gaming Commission, who are accused of being too tough on our soon-to-be penniless casino captains. Future casino paupers have several bones to pick with the state, mostly about customer boarding rules and how much the police protection is costing. According to unaudited figures, the latter can amount to more than half a million bucks a year for just one casino, although the total seems to vary with locations.

Although the complaints nay seem trivial to us outsiders, there is really nothing small about a half million buck liability every year, particularly when it comes time to divvy up any profits. The other side of the coin is the policing being done by Highway Patrol troopers benefits the casino owners as much as the customers, perhaps even more. The troopers add a touch of legitimacy to enterprises that until just a few years ago were only legal in a garish, neon-infested piece of Nevada desert. They also protect owners from undue violence by inebriated sports who, for some reason, are a bit put out over losing money while enjoying intoxicating beverages served by the same persons now holding the losers' last-month rent money. This would seem to be a pattern of behavior within this particular industry, requiring all the law enforcement assistance it can receive from every source available.

Missouri's gaming industrialists now confide they probably can't turn a profit until the awful state relaxes the one rule that is the crux of the entire argument: customers aren't supposed to lose more than $500 per boarding, although there is some evidence that this rule has occasionally been violated by persons seemingly anxious to make their situation worse. It always seemed like a common sense rule to me, but then, as one gaming official told me recently, I don't know "the business." No, but I have experienced the feeling of receiving an unexpected $500 bill through the mail and being pretty unhappy about it, which ought to count for something.

I suspect most Missourians, particularly those among us who voted against this form of legalized sin whether our community would get a casino or not, will take into account that gambling companies entered the state and freely and eagerly sought the right to do business here with some idea about rules that would be imposed. It's difficult to believe that some company with $10 million in the bank or with a letter of huge credit would participate in any activity without having some sense of the ground rules. (See rule No. 2 above.)

Being a practical and sometimes prudent bunch, we Missourians would be remiss if we did not express our appreciation for the gambling industry's $117.4 million payment to public education last year. Missourians are more accustomed to the outlay of similar amounts under federal court orders, so it's refreshing to watch the money coming in rather than going out. If the industry is still around a decade from now, our public schools will have received more than $1 billion from its casinos, which is about one-third of what we will have spent under orders of some lawyer who happened to have a good friend in the U.S. Senate.

If the industry wants the changes it will soon propose, I would suggest the question be presented to those who were here before and will remain after the casinos dry up: the voters of Missouri. If they want easier rules, let them have the final word. If they want to keep the rules in place, the gaming companies can head upstream or float downstream in search of greener, and more lenient, citizens. That seems fair to me, and I expect to most of us who love our state and want only the best for it .

Oh, one final word of advice to the casinos: If we have an election, try not to bribe any more public officials than you have to. Such expenses really hurt the profit line.

~Jack Stapleton of Kennett is the editor of Missouri News and Editorial Service.