Columnist Jon Ralston: No place like home for gamers

Sunday, June 18, 2000 | 9:22 a.m.

WASHINGTON -- When gaming lobbyists present their case to the Gang of 63, unless Casino Gunner Joe Neal is on the committee, they are greeted with respect and deference. Even if lawmakers don't publicly slobber, the panting after approbation often is made palpable by their softball questions. What's more, it is taken as an article of faith that gaming is good, that it benefits the state, that legislators serve at the pleasure of the people first and the industry second -- at least I think that's the order.

If last week's experience in the nation's capital on that NCAA betting ban bill showed anything, it is how differently gaming is treated and viewed away from the friendly confines of Carson City. And although that specific legislation appears moribund, the House Judiciary Committee hearing illuminated just how brittle the legislative dam is on Capitol Hill and how the industry's lobbying mortar may not be sticking.

The gamers took what on its face appears to be a fundamentally illogical premise -- that abolishing sports books will reduce betting on college games -- and managed to turn an inherently unfriendly committee into a sarcastic, sardonic, even shrieking enemy. What happens when a bill that would savage the industry, and thus undermine the state economy, is proposed on Capitol Hill that might actually make sense?

Gamers here are spoiled by the secure cocoon of acceptance, where they are insulated from the rare barbs and bleats from gadflies by the reflexive support of the political and media establishment. In Washington, the only way the Gang of 535's prism shifts toward the industry's perspective is through the marvelously refractive power of campaign contributions. But while the gamers may have purchased the entombment of the NCAA betting bill, money someday will not be enough.

Look what happened to tobacco, whose contributions make gaming look like pikers. And it's no accident that a recent Common Cause study lumped gaming in with tobacco, guns and alcohol -- The Four Horsemen of the Political Apocalypse, perhaps.

Into this fanged maw the industry and its delegation protectors asked lawmakers to swallow the proposition that banning college sports betting would create an economic blight in Nevada, causing the loss of thousands of jobs. They also elevated themselves to moral superiority over the NCAA. So this is how they answer the emotionalism of university presidents and legendary coaches, with this nonsense? They are lucky that the amount of campaign money has created such a reservoir of support among House and Senate leaders that this leaden bill can't gain buoyancy.

The jobs arguments incited real antagonism from Reps. John Conyers and Maxine Waters. "Thank you for your spirited defense of unemployed mothers," Conyers sneered after the presentations by the Nevadans. Added an upset Waters later: "You don't give any thoughts to feelings. You are betting on children."

Notice, too, that the hostility is as bipartisan on Capitol Hill as the embrace is in Carson City. The Democrats can do their faux frothing about the influence of the Christian Coalition in the GOP but the three most anti-gming members of that congressional committee are Democrats -- Conyers, Waters and Sheila Jackson Lee.

And no matter what the acronym stands for, guns or gaming, the NRA will never trump the appeal of the NCAA. So that, too, was silliness. The American Gaming Association may have set up an impressive research and rapid response team. Gaming's spread across the country may also have helped the industry pick up allies. But Harrah's Entertainment's Jan Jones, the former mayor who knows whereof she speaks, is right when she says that for the industry in D.C., image is everything.

Last week's Star Chamber may be overruled by leaders who have judged the gaming money too important. But unless the industry rethinks its approach, relying more on creative imagemaking than just power lobbying, next time the verdict will not be so pleasant.