STREETWISE BLACKJACK

Streetwise Blackjack

Dealer's Choice, Part II

By Peter Ruchman

The goodbye party was at Pinky's on Flamingo, down the street from Bally's where he had worked since April 1987. Once again, John Law was moving on. November 5 was his final shift and his friends and co-workers came to wish him well. When you spend more than 13 years dealing dice and baccarat and blackjack at the same place, you build relationships -- that's the way it is.

Pinky's sits just off the Strip behind a sprawling Texaco. The hot pink flashing colored sign and lights in the front make it impossible to notice. Inside, row after row of pool tables line one whole side of the huge building; an endless bar snakes through the room's center with individual party tables scattered on the other side. You get the feeling these walls wouldn't talk... they'd murmur. This was an after-hours joint for locals, a far universe from the sprawling megaresorts beckoning to the tourists -- the perfect spot for a fond farewell.

Born John Lobonski in 1954 in New Kensington, Pennsylvania, near Pittsburgh, Law got involved in with a few characters as a young man. While attending Penn State University, and working part-time in a steel mill, he was wheelman for some in the local Pittsburgh mob, driving hot cars while the Quaker State wise guys performing B & Es, punk robberies and other mayhem. You could see where this was headed, so when an older and wiser friend offered that John ought to quit or else surrender to a career of jail and a short life expectancy thankfully John paid attention -- he has angels.

A large man with twinkling blue eyes, the build of a defensive back, and an infectious smile, John took the hint. Using a mobile home provided for his use, in a new business venture, he drove four hookers and boxes of whiskey, food and playing cards to the pipeline camps around Fairbanks, Alaska, making the trip in just under 5 days and 10 hours -- that's driving. Each day was filled with johns and gamblers, the hookers making hay then John took what remained. When he had finished this excursion, John had $7,000 in his pocket, a good piece at 23.

In the Spring of 1976, Law drove the motor home down the Pacific Coast and wound up in Las Vegas. Like many before and since, he fell in love with the city. Several weeks later, he returned the vehicle to its owners in Pittsburgh, officially quit school, gave notice to the steel mill, and returned to Las Vegas. He registered for classes at a dealing school and was told about an opening at legendary Binion's Horseshoe downtown.

It was November 1977 and there he met Rick O'Hara, who informed him the job required at least five years prior experience. Law replied it was no problem. He was hired on the spot and told to report the following day to the dice pit. From first roll, it was apparent he had no clue how to cut checks or figure payouts, in this the Vatican of Vegas gambling. Law pleaded with O'Hara to keep him. Calling him "Polak," O'Hara told Law he wouldn't fire him but, "We'll do our best to make you quit!"

The Horseshoe veteran dealers rode Law unmercifully. Not entirely divorced from the wild life he left behind in Pennsylvania, Law got involved with more than a few characters, including some imaginative times with casino boss Ted Binion, son of Horsehoe founder Benny. Now Law was making some serious money from his dealing and other assorted extra-curricular activities. Needing to disguise the source and bury money, he took flying lessons. One night Law and fellow dealer Joey Zerillo (currently boxman at the Mirage), drove to McCarran Airport, to the old Tri-Motor hangar. Joyriding in the sky was the order of the night. With John piloting, the two hijacked a small plane and flew to Red Rock Canyon, where they landed on the straightaway, relieved themselves, then returned, no one the wiser.

O'Hara's old boss Virgil Monk, then at the Sahara, called the dice pit on November 29, 1980, and explained he needed a craps dealer -- immediately. Law jumped at the chance to get onto the Strip and left in the middle of the shift, returning to the Horseshoe only to tender his resignation. At the Sahara, dealer splits were table-for-table, and he was set for life until Paul and Sue Lowden bought the hotel and casino in August 1983, taking over from Del Webb. One of the Lowdens' first acts was to fire 180 dealers almost immediately. From the penthouse to the great outdoors, this man's angels took over. On an outing to Lake Mead with friend Bill Clark, the men ran into Bob Kelly, casino manager at the (big) Hilton on Paradise Road. Clark convinced Law to tell Kelly what nice things he had heard about his managerial skills and how nice his boat was‹then ask him for a job. Law was hired wearing a bathing suit at the lake. He worked nine days.

The basic problem concerned styles. Both the Horseshoe and Sahara, shared a similar approach with a relaxed atmosphere, dealers and gamblers on a first name basis with each other. At the Hilton, things were more formal and John's experience was out-of-line with the company's procedures at the time‹management just didn't appreciate his fraternizing with the customers.

Three months later on the corner of Karen Avenue and Joe W. Brown, Law's 1969 Firebird totaled a Silver State garbage truck. When he left the hospital after a week, the doctors told him he would never walk again. At 29, this was unacceptable. He began a strict rehabilitation program, pushing himself to play tennis and a racquetball. Apparently those angels and hard work paid off. It wasn't long before he returned to the Horseshoe, taking a job at the old Marina, site of the current incarnation of the MGM, dealing craps as usual. In April 1987, on his way to Disneyland with his ex-girlfriend and daughter, he stopped at Bally's to fill out an application. When asked for the games he dealt, Law checked off all boxes. Once again he was hired on the spot along with 10 others. As luck would have it, the ex was a 21 dealer. She taught him the basics on the spot and he began his new career at Bally's. He met his lovely wife of seven years, Doreen, who is still a cocktail waitress in the casino, working the swing shift along with John.

Thirteen years later, they all came to say goodbye ‹- Wick, Frankie, Paula, Sharon, Jeri, Eric, Martin, Crystal, Terri, Barbara, along with many others. John is leaving for Caesars Palace. Best part is John gave up drinking a year-and-a-half ago‹stone sober. Everyone toasted John with shots‹John drank cranberry juice. Ex-Bally's casino shift manager Jimmy "Beaver" McClelland called, promising John a good job dealing dice again. Lately he had been on the big baccarat table, dealing to the highest rollers and the lure of the craps pit proved too much to resist. It might go without saying, but he will be greatly missed at Bally's, the kind of old fashioned place where dealers truly hang together. As for John, he remains a class act.