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HOW GAMBLING IS SNOOKERING AMERICA
BAD BET The itch to get rich the easy way in a nation that likes convenient entertainment has led to a massive expansion of the gambling industry in recent years. In Bad Bet, Timothy L. O'Brien chronicles how the gaming boom has brought Las Vegas to every corner of the U.S., making placing a wager as effortless as buying a six-pack of Pepsi. O'Brien, a New York Times reporter, offers a fascinating and often lively account of gaming's spread up the Mississippi River via riverboat casinos, to neighborhood stores with state lottery terminals, and into cyberspace, where offshore bookies take sports bets. O'Brien, though, is no fan of this growing business, which in 1996 scooped up $586 billion from would-be Diamond Jim Bradys, more than 30 times the haul of 1976. As the title of his book makes clear, he thinks gambling stinks and that its ubiquity is an abomination. He shows that since the odds always favor the house, the vast majority of gamblers are suckers. Furthermore, as he ably demonstrates, gambling usually doesn't bring the economic boon it promises to cities and states, attracts crooks galore, and bilks the poor. O'Brien's thesis is hardly original, and neither is much of his material. But as a history and reference source, Bad Bet pulls everything together and delivers on the book's purchase price far more reliably than if you had put the $25 on Gandy Dancer in the fifth at Aqueduct. Gambling has been around seemingly forever, and it usually has displayed an unsavory side. While Jesus Christ died, Roman soldiers at the foot of the cross drew lots for his clothes--thus, O'Brien notes, ''enshrining exactly who holds the high and low ground in the perennial debates about the morality of gambling.'' In the 1890s, bettors on a losing boxer would sometimes storm the ring, which would invalidate the fight and their tanking wagers. In the 1940s, Bugsy Siegel and the Mob created Las Vegas as America's gaming mecca. Bad Bet is a cornucopia of such interesting nickel-knowledge. Ever wonder why horse racing is called ''the sport of kings''? Two English kings of the 1600s, James I and Charles II, were enthusiastic backers and sponsored meets where aristocrats wagered. O'Brien is best when outlining what a bum economic deal gambling often is. Take Atlantic City, whose appeal as a seaside retreat faded after World War II with the rise of air travel to more compelling vacation locales. In 1976, New Jersey voters approved a referendum to permit casinos in Atlantic City, persuaded that their advent would rejuvenate the ragtag resort. No doubt the result has been beneficial to the casino companies that poured in. Yet the town has gained little and, two decades later, is still struggling. The casinos line the Boardwalk, forming a glittering wall against the festering slums inland. Little casino revenue has gone into community development projects, O'Brien reports, despite a state-run fund designed to funnel money that way. Atlantic City has no movie theater, only recently got its lone supermarket, and suffers from a 15% unemployment rate. As a jeremiad against the other social ills O'Brien cites, however, the book is less effective. Most telling, the author only sporadically touches on the scourge of gambling addiction and devotes little space to linking the spread of the malady with the growing number of betting opportunities. Intuition suggests that surely such a link exists. O'Brien should have devoted at least one chapter to nailing down that connection and exploring the widening addiction problem. Instead, he relates that 20% of casino patrons provide 80% of the revenue--then quickly moves on. And he sprinkles in three vignettes about individual compulsive gamblers but doesn't put these stories in a larger context. Because the point isn't driven home, one is tempted to lay down the book and say: ''Well, so a few losers get hooked. And so I might blow a few bucks if I hit the casino occasionally. At least I have fun there. And, hey, I might really hit that jackpot.'' Further, what are we supposed to do about this industry that O'Brien paints as a massive con? Ban casinos? Scrap state lotteries? Outlaw Internet gambling? Offer public education--on the order of the health groups' antismoking campaign--about gambling's dangers? Any author who exposes a social ill should propose some practical cures. O'Brien gives us none. Another weakness is one that always dogs any bluenose expose such as this. The trouble with inveighing against acknowledged vices--whether smoking, drinking, or gambling--is that people indulge in them because they enjoy these pursuits. O'Brien doesn't address that essential fact. Lady Luck's promise may be false, but she definitely is alluring.
BY LARRY LIGHT RELATED ITEMS
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Updated Oct. 29, 1998 by bwwebmaster
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