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#430 – WSOP Notebook #3 – Scenes from the Struggle of the Poker Class, Part 2
[written June 2, 2008 a.m.]
I don’t expect that anyone will cry over the degraded food service in the VIP Suite (the Aces Club). There won’t be much pitty thrown toward me or Clonie Gowen or Chris Ferguson or Barry Greenstein or Joe Sebok or Marco Traniello.
But it’s a screwy situation that, justifiably, has some people bothered.
Last year, Caesars set up a VIP Suite. There were only a limited number of spaces and it was first-come, first-served, with the cost of admission for the Series a $1,000 donation to the Nevada Cancer Institute. It was a worthy cause (plus tax deductible) and a great deal. Caesars donated the space and the food service, which included snacks, sandwiches, hot & cold appetizers, and dishes from some of the Rio’s great restaurants. It seemed like a very thoughtful way to make amends for not allowing the online poker sites to operate such suites and it garnered a lot of good will from the people who play the most events. I’m certain they lost a bunch of money on it, since they collected no money themselves and donated everything.
Apparently, the good will wasn’t enough to compensate for the financial loss. Caesars is, after all, in the business of making money so the deal changed. Now it’s a $1,000 donation plus $1,750 for membership in the Aces Club.
It still sounded like at least a reasonable deal. The suite was nicely located and comfortable – there really isn’t any place to go during breaks – and I figured I could eat about half my meals at the Series there. That $1,000 of the $2,750 is for a cancer charity makes it even nicer. So I signed up.
The whole thing now smells a little funny. First, I paid last year by credit card, received a receipt for tax purposes, and I think the Amex billing entry said “Nevada Cancer Institute” (though I’m not certain of that).
This year, I was told to pay at the cashier’s cage. At the cage, they don’t take credit cards, only cash. And the receipt, printed on a “Tournament Buy-in Receipt” (complete with a seating assignment) is for $2,750 for “Full access to VIP Hospitality Suite.” There is no mention of the Nevada Cancer Institute or a charitable, tax-deductible contribution.
I am not accusing Caesars of pocketing money they collected for charity. But what is to stop them from doing that? How does my undifferentiated wad of cash make it from the cage to a cancer charity? Or what’s to stop Caesars from donating that $1,000 to charity and doing it in its name rather than mine, claiming credit itself for the philanthopy and the tax deduction, when those things rightfully belong to me?
I have the utmost respect for the honesty of Jeffrey Pollack and his entire operation. Angele Marshall, who is closely involved in running the Suite, is a friend and one of the nicest, most competent administrators I’ve known in poker.
Why they organized this thing in exactly the way an unscrupulous carney would is beyond my comprehension.
Second, people are grumbling about how, for $1,750, we’re getting a lot less than we got for free last year. (Or substitute $2,750 and $1,000, depending on how you characterize the charitable contribution.) I found out only after paying that they discontinued the food service. In its place, there is beef jerky, red vines, and candy bars.
Again, maybe the problem is communication. I thought it was reasonable that Caesars charge players, in addition to the charitable contribution, for the food service. Maybe $1,750 is a reasonable amount to charge for slim jims and rice crispy squares. But it doesn’t instinctively seem reasonable.
No one’s going to picket the Amazon Room because me and Richard Brodie have been deprived of our sauteed shrimp, now replaced by a bowl of Cliff Bars. But they took a good will gesture – and a charitable fundraiser at that – directed to their best customers and seemingly mucked it up.
I’d like to think these honest, trustworthy, competent people will fix things and/or explain the reasonableness of the current state of affairs. As I’ve frequently said, Jeffrey Pollack and his team aren’t afraid to try things, change things, even screw things up. They shine when they communicate what happened and fix things up.
