Friday, June 14, 2019

Vintage Vegas: Sweet Suites and Edmund Slick



Astrology can be a bitch.

The initial World Cup of Handicapping (Football) took place in 1985 at Caesars Palace. It was a one-weekend, thousand-dollar fee event that drew many of the biggest names in football handicapping. In 1985, a one-weekend, 1K contest was slightly out of my sanity range, but I had targeted that particular weekend as very beatable in terms of the college football schedule. Frankly, it appeared to be the best college football wagering week of the 1985 season, so I sucked it up and entered.

The format was formidable. Contestants had to select 20 college sides, then rank them by designating two as $2000 bets, two as $1800 bets, and so on down to $200. Similarly, one had to choose 20 NFL plays from sides and totals and rank them. Prizes would go to the top 10 college records, top 10 NFL records, and top 10 combined records. Bonus prizes went to the top bankroll scores in the three categories. I had no illusions about doing well in the NFL that week, especially with 20 plays. College football was going to have to carry me, and I thought that it could.

Caesars Palace had a huge, respected independent sports book at the time. Harrah's had not yet bought it and imposed its Borg-like assimilation. The Caesars sports book hoped the World Cup would become an annual football handicapping event, much like the World Cup of Thoroughbred Handicapping. To this end, Caesars treated us pretty well. Unlike current Las Vegas horse handicapping tournaments and the WSOP, which saddle players with housing costs, Caesars comped our rooms. And boy, they were nice rooms.

I'm a frugal sort, so I can honestly say that after 40 years of Las Vegas visits, I've stayed in just a handful of suites. I've enjoyed the Palace Station original suites, with their classic brass accoutrements, just off the casino floor. I've also stayed in the old Barbary Coast suites. I hadn't even known about the Barbary suites until my 2 AM arrival forced the BC staff to honor my reservation. The retro suites at the Rio are fun in a 1980's way, and the Tropicana's retro suites with the mirrored ceilings are very cool, too. I once visited a client at the old suites in the Stardust rear complex (prior to the building of the tower). Those suites were two stories with a spiral staircase. My World Cup Caesars Palace room, however, definitely topped these others.

I had a huge round bed, like Dean Martin in the Matt Helm movies. The walls were covered in mirrors. The ceiling over the bed was mirrored. Many, many mirrors. It was all sort of wasted on me, since I was traveling alone, but I appreciated the ambiance when I wasn't unsettled by it. If you like looking at yourself -- a lot -- it was a wonderful room.

Saturday was a long day. About a hundred handicappers had entered, and the day was one lengthy dogfight. My instincts and schedule analysis had been spot on, but cashing came down to a final game between LSU and Kentucky. I had Kentucky with seven points. As the game unfolded, LSU pushed them all over the field. I knew I had the wrong team, but a heavy, driving rain and some scattershot field goal attempts kept Kentucky in it. LSU held a 3-0 lead with a minute to go and the ball inside the UK 10-yard line. LSU could have run out the clock. They did not, and a third-down, off tackle run broke for a touchdown. LSU won 10-0.

I finished 15-5 against the spread. Unfortunately, 18-2 ATS won the day, and the cashing cutoff was 16-4 ATS. On Sunday, I eked out an 11-9 ATS record, doing just enough to not win any money overall. Rough break, as they say.

Now about that astrology thing. Yeah, about that. At the awards ceremony, I learned who had won the college part of the contest. He was a really chubby guy with a tightly coifed 80's perm, a frilly pink shirt with ruffles, and a tuxedo featuring astrological symbols, stars, and ringed planets. His name was Edmund Slick.

At the time, Edmund Slick was a ubiquitous presence in football magazines. His schtick was that he used astrological analyses to determine his handicapping plays.

To be honest, I don't know if he actually won the contest with his own handicapping, or if he simply took credit for the winning entry. His name was not on the contestant list. The official story was that he had entered under a pseudonym and stepped forward to take credit after he had won. Well, maybe I buy that. Or maybe he paid the name that actually went 18-2, and Slick claimed ownership of the entry after the fact. I do not really know, just as I don't know whether the stars and planets on his tuxedo glowed in the dark. I suspect that they did.

As a fan of James Randi, as an avid supporter of CSICOP, and as a card-carrying investigator for the short-lived SSDPE (Society for the Scientific Documentation of Paranormal Experiments), I was appalled at the idea that someone was using an astrology gimmick to sell football plays. Those glittering symbols on Slick's tuxedo really annoyed me. The fact that he was the winner of the college contest bothered me more than the fact that I didn't cash. Time, however, heals all wounds, or at least dims our memories.

I can look back at it now and chuckle. At least I had a really nice room.


Notes: (1) That was the first and last World Cup of Handicapping (Football). (2) For a relevant article capturing a feel for the sports services of the time, I recommend Melissa Isaacson's column at www.orlandosentinel.com/news/os-xpm-1986-08-26-0250080277-story.html


Bob Dietz -- June 13, 2019