Bill to allow casino officials to gamble stirs controversy

Friday, Dec. 4, 1998 | 11:56 a.m.

But critics of a bill that would allow about 1,800 upper level casino workers to gamble here say it's the state and the casinos that are taking the chance.

The measure, which narrowly passed the Assembly last week and is now before Gov. Christie Whitman, would allow holders of so-called "key licenses" to gamble in casinos other than their own.

Supporters say lifting the restriction would eliminate a longtime inequity that makes casino executives feel like second-class citizens. Opponents -- including the state's own regulators -- say the New Jersey casino industry would be gambling with its hard-earned reputation for integrity.

"Even if someone wins fairly, say a dealer or a manager goes into a neighboring casino and hits a $25,000 jackpot. It doesn't look good," said Assemblyman Joseph Suliga, D-Union, who spoke against the bill on the floor last week. "It's not a very positive image. And you know what the public is going to think."

When the authors of New Jersey's gambling laws crafted the Casino Control Act in 1977, one of their foremost concerns was establishing a tightly regulated industry free of mob taint.

To that end, they banned casino employees, casino officials and casino regulators alike from playing the games.

In 1992, Gov. Jim Florio signed a bill that eliminated the restriction for rank-and-file casino employees, allowing them to gamble in casinos other than the one in which they worked.

The measure before Whitman would extend that freedom to pit bosses, vice presidents and supervisors.

Ironically, they are the ones who endure the most scrutiny from regulators in the licensing process, which requires them to complete a 49-page form and agree to investigations of their finances, their families, their careers and their police record.

State Sen. William L. Gormley, the current bill's principal sponsor, rejects the idea that key license holders would conspire against casinos.

"It's one of those theories we had when we first had casino gambling that's not based in fact. It's as if we wanted a regulation to show we're tough, but we're really basing it on a hypothetical that has no credibility," said Gormley, R-Atlantic.

Gormley and other supporters point out that no new problems have arisen since the lower-level employees have been allowed to bet.

The state Casino Control Commission, the independent quasijudicial agency that licenses and keeps tabs on casinos and their workers, opposes the measure.

"The opportunity for collusion and the risks associated with it do not stand up against the potential gains," said commission Chairman James Hurley. "One single incident and you undermine the confidence it's taken 20 years to build here. It's a bad idea," Hurley said.

In a position paper sent to lawmakers and Whitman, the commission outlined a litany of potential problems.

"Consider this hypothetical example: A pit boss, shift manager, department head, vice president or other executive sits down at a blackjack table at another casino. The dealer at the table is an applicant for a job at the executive's casino. This could present the perfect mix for a scam: You take care of me and I'll take care of you. Because of supervisory associations, the people supervising the game could be more readily involved, which would ensure the success of the scam," the CCC paper said.

One key license holder said the law discriminates against executives. A 40-year-old casino surveillance department employee, he spoke on condition that his name not be used.

"When you hold a responsible position, you're much more of a threat to the state's monies and the individual casino's money when you're on the job," he said. "To go in as a patron and play a $10 roll of quarters, how can anyone think we're gonna lose a $60,000 job over that?"

He said key license holders aren't all wealthy executives.

"This perception that everyone with a key license is this multimillionaire in a high circle with guys who can influence decisions is wrong. The bulk of these are middle-of-the-road salary jobs, people making $30,000 and up.

"For them, you take away an activity. It's like a punishment," he said.