Can Casinos and Poker Rooms Make Cheats Out of You?

Sometimes when you're playing in a casino, things happen that force you to decide whether or not you want to become a poker or a casino cheat. By that I mean mistakes are often made by dealers or other casino personnel in your favor, mainly that you are paid more money than you should have been on any given bet or circumstance. If you accept the unintentional "favor" and don't say anything, does this make you a cheat...or a "passive cheat" to say the least? In my opinion it does not, as most ordinary people out having a good time in casinos would probably just keep the extra payout and say nothing. After all, no one is getting hurt, especially the casino. What do you think?

I came across an interesting survey in the Chicago Herald about this question. Here it follows:

Every once in a while at the casino, the dealer, or the cashier, or another player will do you a little "favor." Sometimes another customer will receive one of these favors while you look on. There's only one little hitch with all of these "favors" however. They were mistakes - and weren't supposed to happen!

Back on July 25, I asked you, the reader whether you'd accept any or all of these mistakes/favors if they were to happen to you. This is how you replied.

Favor #1: You got paid on a blackjack loser.

Consensus: Keep the money. Over 80 percent of the readers said they would keep a mistaken payoff on their losing blackjack hand. Their reasons were that since the house has a built-in advantage anyway, it's OK to accept a financial favor that results from the casino not doing its job correctly. Very few felt obliged to return the casino's chips and their own to the dealer.

One contrarian however, stated that there are many legal advantages obtainable at blackjack, so why go outside the rules to accept one? Another said it was his goal to "beat 'em" - not "cheat 'em" and would return the money.

Favor #2: Dealer forgot to pick up your losing craps prop.

Consensus: Let it ride. Here too, most readers said they would happily accept a free second chance at winning their craps proposition bet, such as on the "hard 8." The same general sentiments applied as with the blackjack hand above, but there were a few dissenters.

One reader cited how some craps dealers attentively coach the players on how to bet appropriate amounts so as to receive maximum odds on their wagers. This reader felt allowing a proposition loser to remain in action would constitute "stepping over the line."

Favor #3: You found a $100 chip beneath a high roller's feet.

Consensus: Split decision. This seemed to be the stickiest scenario of all. Some said if it looked as if the chip belonged to that player, they would simply point it out to him. Others felt was a simple "finder's/keepers" situation. Still others said they would get security involved and let them decide.

Favor #4: You saw a player receive more chips than his buy-in.

Consensus: Unanimously, "Not my business." Everyone said it is the casino's responsibility to count up the buy-in accurately and give the correct number of chips to a new player.

Some even emphasized that they would remain silent to avoid the possibility of a confrontation with the customer who was buying in.

Favor #5: The wrong poker hand was awarded the pot at your table.

Consensus: Split decision. I was surprised at how many readers said they would sit by and allow the pot to be pushed to a player holding the losing poker hand. Only about half said they would stop the dealer and point out the correct winning hand.

The official rule by the way, is that once the cards are shown down, any player at the table has the full right to point out the winning hand.

Also, the house bears no financial responsibility in this matter, and once the cards are mucked (tossed into the discards), the transaction is an officially done deal.

Favor #6: Cashier at the cage gave you $100 too much.

Consensus: Split decision. About 60 percent of the readers said they would return the overpayment at the cashier's cage for various reasons. Some felt the till would come up short and that cashier might either be docked or fired.

Others simply felt bound by their honor not to accept an overpayment in cash for their chips.

The other side reasoned that the casinos get way too much of the customers' money anyway, and any "refund" the players can get should happily be kept.

3 Accused of Stealing $108 Million Tropicana Casino Player List With Michael Jordon´s Name!

Three former Tropicana employees -- including a high-ranking executive -- were indicted yesterday on charges they stole a list, valued at $108 million, of more than 20,000 of the casino's top players.

One of them, John Conklin, is now the vice president of relationship marketing at Borgata -- Atlantic City's trendy casino. He made his mark at the Tropicana by luring sports stars and celebrities, according to people who knew him there.

The case provides a window into the high-power world of casino marketing, where lists of top players can mean big money. Marketing executives, whose job it is to schmooze high rollers, are typically precluded from taking lists with them when they move onto other casino jobs. Often they don't need to -- they keep their own records and gamblers also know how to reach them.

In this case, authorities said the three downloaded the identities of more than 20,300 patrons -- including addresses, phone numbers and casino ratings -- onto three separate discs labeled "Bette Midler." The Tropicana put the value of the information at more than $108 million.

"We charge that these marketers stole one of the most valuable assets of the casino," Attorney General Anne Milgram said in a news release. "This type of corporate espionage and theft involving proprietary information is a very serious crime."

The others indicted were Justin Litterelle, who later went on to work for Bellagio, one of the premier casinos in Las Vegas; and James DiMarco, who was trying to find a new job after losing his at the Tropicana. Each of the three charged face up to 10 years in prison and $150,000 in fines if found guilty of the most serious charges.

Conklin's lawyer, John Donnelly, said it was "inappropriate to comment at this time." Calls to lawyers representing Litterelle and DiMarco were not returned. Borgata did not return a call.

At least one former casino executive said he was shocked by the allegations. Dennis Gomes, who hired Conklin while he was president of resort operations for Aztar, Tropicana's former parent company, said he "couldn't imagine John doing anything wrong, and I'm not going to believe it until I see more.

"John Conklin is one of the best slot player development executives in the entire industry," Gomes said. "He's the greatest salesman on earth.

Justice director Gregory Paw said the three employees were working together at the Tropicana three years ago when they began talking about finding other jobs. Conklin was Tropicana's marketing vice president. Litterelle served under Conklin as a marketing analyst.

Conklin allegedly told Litterelle to download a list of the casino's top players, saying it would be "future leverage" that would help them bring gamblers with them when they found jobs elsewhere, officials said.

Conklin, a 47-year-old from Galloway, then went on to work for Borgata. Litterelle, a 26-year-old up-and-comer in the casino marketing world, moved to Las Vegas and took a job as a national marketing manager at Bellagio. He was there a little more than a year before he resigned voluntarily in November 2007, according to Gordon Absher, a spokesman for the Bellagio's parent, MGM Mirage.

DiMarco, 59, of Ocean City, eventually lost his job after the Tropicana's new owner slashed hundreds of jobs.

Conklin also is charged with witness tampering for allegedly having his attorney get Litterelle to sign a false affidavit.

Gomes said he first met Conklin while he was the casino boss of the Trump Taj Mahal in the 1990s. Conklin was a telephone salesman at the time.

"If the average guy sold 300 phones a year, he sold 300 a month," Gomes said.

Later, Conklin sold luxury boxes at Philadelphia's CoreStates Center, now known as the Wachovia Center. When Gomes moved to the Tropicana, he hired Conklin to work in player development.

Conklin made his mark using his sport connections to bring in sport stars and celebrities. Gomes said members of the Philadelphia Eagles were among Conklin's contacts. So were boxers. He also brought in Michael Jordan, Gomes said.