DEC 7 2006 - FROM THEDAILYHERALD.com
...He won $22,800 — and the casino took it back
by Burt Constable
From a minute past midnight until 4:51 a.m. Friday, an insurance agent from Lombard was on the literal roll of his life.
The craps table at Grand Victoria Casino in Elgin had never been so kind.
“I’ve gone a half-dozen times (during the last year) and I’ve lost every time,” the man recalls.
Some nights he’d drop a grand, maybe $1,500, he says. This time, the husband and father who turns 34 on Saturday won an early birthday present of between $17,000 and $18,000, he figures, to add to the money he brought with him.
But when he tried to cash in his $22,800 in chips, casino authorities took it all away, arrested him and charged him with criminal trespass.
For this guy, even when he beats the odds, the casino still wins.
According to the arrest report, the gambler enrolled in Illinois’ Voluntary Self-Exclusion Program for Problem Gamblers, which gives compulsive gamblers a financial incentive to stop. The program is a voluntary effort that promises participants anonymity, so the Daily Herald is identifying the man only as Nicholas.
By enrolling in the program, Nicholas signed a form that states if self-excluded members are “found on an Illinois casino gambling, all chips and tokens clearly in their possession will be donated” to an organization that helps compulsive gamblers.
Rules note it is the gambler’s responsibility, “not the duty of the riverboat casino operators” to make sure a person on the list doesn’t gamble.
“If there is a good thing about this, his check certainly will go toward helping to make other gamblers and problem gamblers aware of resources out there to get some help,” says Alex Roseborough, executive director of the Illinois Council on Problem Gambling ((Dead link: http://www.illinoiscouncilonproblemgambling.org)), which will receive Nicholas’ $22,800 — the largest donation in the program’s four-year history.
Law prohibits officials from identifying gamblers on the self-exclusion list, and Gene O’Shea, director of the self-exclusion program for the Illinois Gaming Board, refuses to confirm Nicholas’ status or discuss any particular case. But O’Shea says anyone who voluntarily enrolls is subject to the same harsh rules.
“When you sign up, any gambling proceeds found on you are donated,” O’Shea says. The gamblers must check a box next to the charity they pick as the recipient.
“They know in black-and-white,” O’Shea says. “They sign on the form five times.”
Nicholas, however, says he signed the papers as a favor to his then-girlfriend, who became his wife. Despite being arrested previously on trespass charges for entering another Illinois casino, Nicholas says he didn’t realize the penalties.
“Nowhere did they tell me that if I were caught, I’d forfeit my winnings,” Nicholas says.
The police report says Nicholas, who filed for bankruptcy in 1999, voluntarily joined the program in 2002.
“Back then I used to go all the time — three or four times a week,” Nicholas says of his casino visits. “I don’t have a gambling problem, and if I did before, I don’t now.”
He also says he thought the voluntary prohibition had expired.
While the casino ban is “for life,” the law allows a gambler to petition for reinstatement after five years as long as a licensed mental health professional submits a written affidavit noting that the person “no longer is a problem gambler and can gamble responsibly.”
Nicholas says the self-exclusion program is “an absolute joke.”
“They’re willing to take my money, but the second I win, they confiscate my money,” Nicholas says.
“They card me at the door. They allow me to take cash out,” Nicholas says. “This is the first time I’ve actually won and they confiscate it all. I’m beyond not happy. If this is to help us, it does not.”
In an effort to stop underage gambling, casinos in Illinois are required to check the identification of anyone under 30. Nicholas says casino employees see his identification, know he is on the list and still let him enter.
“A couple times they’ve asked me to step to the side,” Nicholas says.
He claims to have gotten advances there on his credit/debit card and used the casino ATM.
“I have written checks there,” Nicholas says. “They let me do all of that.”
The state gambling commission has levied fines from $200,000 to $600,000 against casinos that have violated the self-exclusion regulations, but the Elgin casino has not been among them.
“The Grand Victoria Casino has had an exemplary record when it comes to following the self-exclusion rules,” O’Shea says.
A spokeswoman for the Elgin casino said the company has procedures in place to uphold the self-exclusion program, but she would not comment on this case.
An attorney looking into the case at Nicholas’ request says he will study “the fairness” of a self-exclusion program that catches winners but might not catch losers.
The casinos should be required to make everyone show photo identification “to keep the self-exclusion people out,” argues Anita Bedell, executive director of the Illinois Church Action on Alcohol and Addiction Problems. “They pay for a hotline, but they won’t keep them (problem gamblers) out.
The casinos can’t lose and the gambler can’t win.”
The onus is on the “sick” gambler, not the casino, Bedell says.
“When the person loses, the casino keeps all the money they lost. You have people embezzling and losing their homes and the casinos keep all that money,” Bedell says. “A lot of relatives of people who are on that list thought that meant they couldn’t get on that boat anymore. What they need to do is keep them out of casinos.”
In Missouri, the first state to launch a self-exclusion program, all gamblers are required to show a photo identification before they are issued a player’s card allowing them to gamble, says Melissa Stephens, problem gambling program administrator for the Missouri Gaming Commission.
Casinos that violate that rule receive an average fine of about $30,000, Stephens says. Jackpots revert back to the casino, although Stephens says Missouri is exploring other possibilities for that money.
Even so, some gamblers continue to gamble even though they know they never can win.
“Most often than not, they run whenever the jackpot goes off. How sad is that?” Stephens says. “But that’s problem gamblers.”
Cameras record the action to keep gamblers from using friends or relatives to claim their winnings. So why would someone play a game where even a win is going to become a loss?
“It’s the nature of the gambling addiction,” says Roseborough, 61, who notes that he used to be a problem gambler but hasn’t gambled in the 15 years since he lost the $3,000 he had set aside to move from the Atlantic City area to Chicago.
“People on the outside who don’t have (addictions) don’t know what it’s like to have them,” Roseborough says.
“You can sneak into the boat, but if you win the jackpot it’s gone. It’s just an addiction. You need the action,” explains Pat F., 47, a former 911 dispatcher in the city and suburbs who now chairs Gamblers Anonymous meetings in Hoffman Estates. She says the self-exclusion program has stopped her from gambling. “I knew the consequences, but I just couldn’t stop,” Pat says. “This program saved my life.”
...He won $22,800 — and the casino took it back
by Burt Constable
From a minute past midnight until 4:51 a.m. Friday, an insurance agent from Lombard was on the literal roll of his life.
The craps table at Grand Victoria Casino in Elgin had never been so kind.
“I’ve gone a half-dozen times (during the last year) and I’ve lost every time,” the man recalls.
Some nights he’d drop a grand, maybe $1,500, he says. This time, the husband and father who turns 34 on Saturday won an early birthday present of between $17,000 and $18,000, he figures, to add to the money he brought with him.
But when he tried to cash in his $22,800 in chips, casino authorities took it all away, arrested him and charged him with criminal trespass.
For this guy, even when he beats the odds, the casino still wins.
According to the arrest report, the gambler enrolled in Illinois’ Voluntary Self-Exclusion Program for Problem Gamblers, which gives compulsive gamblers a financial incentive to stop. The program is a voluntary effort that promises participants anonymity, so the Daily Herald is identifying the man only as Nicholas.
By enrolling in the program, Nicholas signed a form that states if self-excluded members are “found on an Illinois casino gambling, all chips and tokens clearly in their possession will be donated” to an organization that helps compulsive gamblers.
Rules note it is the gambler’s responsibility, “not the duty of the riverboat casino operators” to make sure a person on the list doesn’t gamble.
“If there is a good thing about this, his check certainly will go toward helping to make other gamblers and problem gamblers aware of resources out there to get some help,” says Alex Roseborough, executive director of the Illinois Council on Problem Gambling ((Dead link: http://www.illinoiscouncilonproblemgambling.org)), which will receive Nicholas’ $22,800 — the largest donation in the program’s four-year history.
Law prohibits officials from identifying gamblers on the self-exclusion list, and Gene O’Shea, director of the self-exclusion program for the Illinois Gaming Board, refuses to confirm Nicholas’ status or discuss any particular case. But O’Shea says anyone who voluntarily enrolls is subject to the same harsh rules.
“When you sign up, any gambling proceeds found on you are donated,” O’Shea says. The gamblers must check a box next to the charity they pick as the recipient.
“They know in black-and-white,” O’Shea says. “They sign on the form five times.”
Nicholas, however, says he signed the papers as a favor to his then-girlfriend, who became his wife. Despite being arrested previously on trespass charges for entering another Illinois casino, Nicholas says he didn’t realize the penalties.
“Nowhere did they tell me that if I were caught, I’d forfeit my winnings,” Nicholas says.
The police report says Nicholas, who filed for bankruptcy in 1999, voluntarily joined the program in 2002.
“Back then I used to go all the time — three or four times a week,” Nicholas says of his casino visits. “I don’t have a gambling problem, and if I did before, I don’t now.”
He also says he thought the voluntary prohibition had expired.
While the casino ban is “for life,” the law allows a gambler to petition for reinstatement after five years as long as a licensed mental health professional submits a written affidavit noting that the person “no longer is a problem gambler and can gamble responsibly.”
Nicholas says the self-exclusion program is “an absolute joke.”
“They’re willing to take my money, but the second I win, they confiscate my money,” Nicholas says.
“They card me at the door. They allow me to take cash out,” Nicholas says. “This is the first time I’ve actually won and they confiscate it all. I’m beyond not happy. If this is to help us, it does not.”
In an effort to stop underage gambling, casinos in Illinois are required to check the identification of anyone under 30. Nicholas says casino employees see his identification, know he is on the list and still let him enter.
“A couple times they’ve asked me to step to the side,” Nicholas says.
He claims to have gotten advances there on his credit/debit card and used the casino ATM.
“I have written checks there,” Nicholas says. “They let me do all of that.”
The state gambling commission has levied fines from $200,000 to $600,000 against casinos that have violated the self-exclusion regulations, but the Elgin casino has not been among them.
“The Grand Victoria Casino has had an exemplary record when it comes to following the self-exclusion rules,” O’Shea says.
A spokeswoman for the Elgin casino said the company has procedures in place to uphold the self-exclusion program, but she would not comment on this case.
An attorney looking into the case at Nicholas’ request says he will study “the fairness” of a self-exclusion program that catches winners but might not catch losers.
The casinos should be required to make everyone show photo identification “to keep the self-exclusion people out,” argues Anita Bedell, executive director of the Illinois Church Action on Alcohol and Addiction Problems. “They pay for a hotline, but they won’t keep them (problem gamblers) out.
The casinos can’t lose and the gambler can’t win.”
The onus is on the “sick” gambler, not the casino, Bedell says.
“When the person loses, the casino keeps all the money they lost. You have people embezzling and losing their homes and the casinos keep all that money,” Bedell says. “A lot of relatives of people who are on that list thought that meant they couldn’t get on that boat anymore. What they need to do is keep them out of casinos.”
In Missouri, the first state to launch a self-exclusion program, all gamblers are required to show a photo identification before they are issued a player’s card allowing them to gamble, says Melissa Stephens, problem gambling program administrator for the Missouri Gaming Commission.
Casinos that violate that rule receive an average fine of about $30,000, Stephens says. Jackpots revert back to the casino, although Stephens says Missouri is exploring other possibilities for that money.
Even so, some gamblers continue to gamble even though they know they never can win.
“Most often than not, they run whenever the jackpot goes off. How sad is that?” Stephens says. “But that’s problem gamblers.”
Cameras record the action to keep gamblers from using friends or relatives to claim their winnings. So why would someone play a game where even a win is going to become a loss?
“It’s the nature of the gambling addiction,” says Roseborough, 61, who notes that he used to be a problem gambler but hasn’t gambled in the 15 years since he lost the $3,000 he had set aside to move from the Atlantic City area to Chicago.
“People on the outside who don’t have (addictions) don’t know what it’s like to have them,” Roseborough says.
“You can sneak into the boat, but if you win the jackpot it’s gone. It’s just an addiction. You need the action,” explains Pat F., 47, a former 911 dispatcher in the city and suburbs who now chairs Gamblers Anonymous meetings in Hoffman Estates. She says the self-exclusion program has stopped her from gambling. “I knew the consequences, but I just couldn’t stop,” Pat says. “This program saved my life.”
