Jeff Haney on a dying scheme to hustle online casinos

Monday, Aug. 14, 2006 | 7:28 a.m.

The federal government's recent crackdown on online gambling has thrust the largely unregulated, sometimes bizarre backwater of Internet casinos into the spotlight.

Not long after the House of Representatives passed legislation this summer designed to clamp down on online gambling, the boss of Costa Rica-based BetOnSports was arrested while changing planes in Texas. As a result, the company announced Friday it would close down its service to Americans.

Although millions of Americans wager billions of dollars online annually, according to The New York Times, most are ostensibly just trying to get lucky, which is of course a sucker's bet.

For a brief shining moment a couple of years ago, though, so-called "advantage players" - sharp gamblers who play only with some kind of an edge - dove into the realm of Internet casinos with glee.

They were not trying to get lucky. Taking advantage of a surfeit of cash bonus offers available at the time, they just wanted to make a deposit, collect the bonus, put in the required amount of play and cash out with a small profit.

A typical offer might go like this: Deposit $200, get a $100 bonus, play $3,000 worth of online blackjack (expected loss: $15) and you're home free. Expected gain: $85.

Following step-by-step instructions on so-called "bonus hustling" in a couple of informative (but now outdated) guidebooks, they chased offers like that all over cyberspace.

Cautious about where they were transferring money, and with the words of Szell the dentist echoing in their minds ("Is it safe? Is it safe?"), they traded information on reliable online casinos and compiled blacklists of "evil ones."

They found many online operators trying to trade on Las Vegas' good name in the gambling industry. ("Vegas Villa." "Vegas Palms.")

Others used every conceivable combination of Las Vegas casino names and images in their moniker. For a while, "Golden Palace" was showing up on professional boxers' backs and blacklists with alarming frequency.

Others, cognizant that people might be hesitant to send off hundreds of dollars to someplace like Belize, tried to stress safety and security. So there was "English Harbour" (based in Antigua and Barbuda) and "Swiss Casino" (which actually uses a money-transfer system based in Nicosia, Cyprus).

Still others came up with highly questionable names for their operations. One was called "Pitboss Casino," without a doubt the all-time worst name for a gambling establishment - especially for advantage players. For them, the term "pit boss" conjures an image of a sweaty, beady-eyed villain wearing a dark suit and tie in 110-degree weather. Why not just call it "Charles Manson Casino?"

The advantage players, the "bonus hustlers," found plenty of unintentional humor: e-mails originating in third-world countries written in stilted English ("My dearest, dearest customer ..."); virtual blackjack dealers from sites in the islands who had built-in Rastaman voices; a Ricardo Montalban soundalike welcoming them to an online joint called simply "El Casino."

They also found the landscape littered with second-tier celebrities. Of course, there was the obligatory "Kenny Rogers Casino." Racecar driver Stefan Johansson endorsed another site. Yet another uses the voice of actress Patsy Kensit (Mel Gibson's love interest in "Lethal Weapon 2") for its dealers.

In time, alas, they discovered that the casino operators were wising up, adding more and more restrictions aimed at thwarting bonus hustlers. Today, most prohibit blackjack play in conjunction with any sort of bonus, making the hustlers' little game a lost cause.

The jury's still out on how successful the feds will be in putting the kibosh on Internet gambling.

It is clear, however, that the golden age of bonus hustling is over.

Call this a requiem for a scheme.