home
***
CD-ROM
|
disk
|
FTP
|
other
***
search
/
TIME: Almanac 1990
/
1990 Time Magazine Compact Almanac, The (1991)(Time).iso
/
time
/
040389
/
04038900.010
< prev
next >
Wrap
Text File
|
1990-09-22
|
6KB
|
115 lines
EDUCATION, Page 56Playing 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."