TIME: Almanac 1993/TIME Almanac 1993.iso/time/040389/04038900.010

Text File | 1992-09-23 | 6.4 KB | 122 lines

                                                                                EDUCATION, Page 56

Playing to Win in Vegas


    On the afternoon of Oct. 18, 1988, two University of
Nevada-Las Vegas basketball players, David Butler and Moses
Scurry, walked through the casino at Caesars Palace and out to
the pool to have lunch with a man they knew as Sam Perry. As
Perry rose to greet the two, he drew a wad of cash from his
pocket and peeled off a bill for each of them. "I gave them a
hundred bucks, so what?" Perry told Art Ross, a professional
coach who was sitting with Perry. "Everybody does it. It keeps
them out of trouble."

    The man Butler and Scurry know as Sam Perry is really
Richard Perry, a gambler who has twice been convicted on federal
charges of sports bribery. In 1974 Perry was convicted in
connection with a major New York betting scandal at Roosevelt
and Yonkers raceways. He was sentenced to 2 1/2 years in prison
and fined $10,000. In 1984 Perry pleaded guilty to conspiring
to commit sports bribery as part of the notorious Boston College
point-shaving scheme. At the trial, recalls Edward McDonald,
head of the Organized Crime Strike Force in Brooklyn, N.Y. Perry
was referred to as Richie ("the Fixer") Perry.

    During the winter, 43-year-old Perry can often be found at
Caesars Palace and other casinos, betting on races, blackjack
and sporting events. In the summers, he coaches some of New York
City's top inner-city basketball prospects. Scurry says he and
Perry have a close relationship as player and former coach, and
on about half a dozen occasions Perry gave him small amounts of
"tip money" -- no more than $20 -- merely as a token of
affection. Ross, a former C.B.A. coach, agrees: "He does have
the kids' best interests at heart."

    Perry's first contact with UNLV was in the spring of 1986,
when he told the university's coaches that Lloyd Daniels,
considered by many the top high school player in New York City,
was interested in going to the school. Daniels was then an
18-year-old high school dropout who had attended five different
high schools in three states. Each school had availed itself of
his talents on the court but never managed to solve his profound
reading problems.

    On April 11, 1986, Daniels signed a letter of intent to
attend UNLV. Six months later, UNLV's then assistant coach Mark
Warkentien became his legal guardian. It was arranged for
Daniels to attend a California junior college to get his grades
up and help him with his reading. He then enrolled at UNLV. But
on Feb. 9, 1987, Daniels was arrested attempting to buy crack.
Perry paid the $1,500 to bail him out.

    UNLV coach Jerry Tarkanian announced that Daniels would
never play for the school. Perry was outraged. "He said if we
had treated Daniels right, we would have got a number of New
York guys," recalls Tarkanian, who claims to know Perry only as
Sam and believes he is in the "commodities" business. Daniels,
who left UNLV, has since been in at least two
drug-rehabilitation programs. He played for a time in the
C.B.A., and is now back in New York City.

    UNLV, which was put on probation in the late 1970s for NCAA
transgressions, is one of the superpowers of college
basketball. In a city that worships winners, "Tark the Shark"
Tarkanian is a patron saint, with the highest winning percentage
(82%) in the sport. Along with that come use of a Cadillac, a
base salary of $173,855 and a percentage of postseason revenues
that could reach $80,000. (UNLV President Robert Maxson's salary
is $123,500.) Tarkanian also has an endorsement contract with
Nike shoes, a promotional arrangement with a Vegas nightclub and
a sporting-goods store at the airport.

    In some ways UNLV goes further than many schools to fend
off corruption. It falls to Warkentien, now assistant to the
athletic director, to keep the players out of trouble. "I'm the
damn cop, but it's an impossible job," he groans. Warkentien,
ever on the lookout for illegal gifts from boosters, examines
every player's monthly rent check and car titles. But in other
ways the university is less vigilant. For example, school
officials have formal arrangements with Las Vegas-strip casino
restaurants allowing players to charge one training meal a day.

    What makes student athletes especially vulnerable to
temptation is that many consider themselves underpaid
professionals who deserve whatever comes their way. "Once you
get out on the floor, it's a job, and you expect to get paid,"
says former UNLV player Eldridge Hudson. "If a kid is busting
his ass on the court, if somebody wants to buy him a car, let
him have it." Hudson always hoped to share his good fortune with
his family. "Me being a star, I thought my mother deserved a
Mercedes." While in school, Hudson said, he had a private
apartment and drove a Mazda RX7. How did he afford it? "Easy,"
he says. Hudson, 25, played basketball for a time overseas.
Today he wears $450 amber-tinted sunglasses and a diamond stud
in his left ear. He still talks about making the N.B.A., but a
knee injury he suffered in college makes that a long shot.

    Like student athletes at many other schools, UNLV's players
often arrive on campus with severe reading problems, poor study
skills and swollen egos. They practice as much as four hours a
day, seven days a week, and miss 30 to 40 days of classes
because of road games. During their absence, notetakers are
hired to attend class for them. All players are required to
attend a two-hour study hall after practice, but some are so
exhausted they can barely keep their eyes open. UNLV's
graduation rate is better than that of many schools, although
only 40% of the team ever get degrees. "It's an unrealistic
expectation," says Diana Costello, head academic tutor for the
team. If subjected to the same grueling physical workouts, she
adds, even "the finest of students would have a difficult time."
Costello tries to warn the players to look beyond basketball and
takes delight in those who make academic progress.

    Many former UNLV players ultimately work as slot-machine
hosts, casino bosses and maitre d's on the Vegas strip.
Tarkanian says sometimes casino operators tell him which players
they want to hire even before graduation. Says the coach: "We
tell the kids if they keep their noses clean, this town will
take care of them. They all stay here. Nobody ever leaves."