Last Bus to Tunica

Back when Reno, NV. was creating its reputation as the 'biggest little city in the world' and a major gambling mecca, Pappy Smith, owner of Harold's Club, came up with the slogan, 'HAROLD'S CLUB OR BUST!'

To make the slogan stick, Pappy and his sons encouraged players to leave signs and banners all over the world, along with the mileage from that particular location to Harold's Club in downtown Reno. One memorable sign in Alaska had the distance down correctly to the kilometer.

The colorful Smith family no longer own Harold's Club, of course. One son, Raymond, married a sultry songstress named Kay Starr who had a huge recording in 'Wheel Of Fortune,' while another son Harold Smith Sr. ended up destitute and a wandering alcoholic after he squandered his share of the family fortune. Ironically, he had written a book during his heyday called 'I Want To Quit Winners.' Sadly, like many gamblers who make it to the top, he could not keep the momentum going and took the long slide to ruin.

Reno and Tunica, MS. are similar in several significant ways. Like Reno, Tunica is centered off the beaten path in the Mississippi Delta. As you drive into Tunica, you are surrounded by farmlands of sorghum and corn. In the distance, cattle and a few horses graze while large neon signs prepare you for the Tunica experience.

A year ago, I joined a busload of gamblers and socialites from Springfield, MO. for a three-day excursion to Tunica. The trip was sponsored by Gas Busters, a bus company in Branson, MO., where folks like Mickey Guilley and Dolly Parton ply their country western trade to lure customers into garish entertainment palaces that promise a return to yesteryear.

Steve and Julie his partner priced the two-night, three day stay in Tunica properly -- $189 per single, $139 for a double. I was eager to return to Tunica for a couple of special reasons. In 2003 while I was traveling by car to Florida to take on a new position as editor of a weekly newspaper, I decided to drive 200 miles out of my way to visit Jack Binion who had jusst built another Horseshoe Casino in Tunica.

When I drove into town, my intention was to swing by the Horseshoe, enjoy some reminiscence time with Binion, have lunch, and then head on to West Palm Beach, FL. Only it didn't happen that way. Jack is a pretty persuasive fellow when he wants to be. He managed to talk me into hanging around and playing in a one-table satellite that was being sponsored by the World Poker Open, a new poker movement that was challenging the World Series of Poker.

You probably know the story already. I won the satelllite and a $540 buy-in to another tournament that night, the WPO Omaha High-Low tournament. It drew just under 300 players and luck, time and circumstance all came together. I won the tournament and pocketed over $42,200, the biggest score of my life.

That occurred in 2000. It was now 2014 and when our big air-conditioned bus had completed its five and a half hour trip to Tunica, the WPO was well underway at the Gold Strike. The 31-story Gold Strike Casino is a magnificent resort that is the highest building in Tunica. You can see it for miles, a gigantic building with speckles of fool's gold on the exterior. It was raining when we pulled into town and even the dark clouds and misty conditions could not dull the outline of the big casino.

And here is where the problems started.

Most of the people on board the bus were slot players. That was one of the reasons Gas Busters booked them at the Resorts Casino which is located next door to the Hollywood Casino. Resorts does not have a poker room. Hollywood does, but it only spreads a $3-6 limit game without a kill. That, of course, is small potatoes to a no-limit player or somebody who wants to compete in a poker tournament.

Okay, I can hear you thinking. He's staying at Resorts which doesn't have a poker room. Big deal. All he has to do is grab a shuttle or a cab and he can go any place in Tunica that he wants.

If that is what you are thinking, I have news for you. It doesn't happen that way.

While the shuttle service that most gambling communities give players once existed in Tunica, it exists no more. I discovered that Resorts did not provide a shuttle service to other casinos, and neither does Hollywood. Even worse, when I called Gold Strike and the Horseshoe -- they are located next door to each other several miles away -- the poker room personnel blandly informed me, sorry. No luck. We don't provide shuttle service. You'll have to get here the best way you can.

I grumbled as I hung up the phone, but there are more than one way to skin a cat, as my grandmother once said. I began looking through the phone book for the number of a taxi service, only to discover that there were no such services in Tunica. I had taken the last bus to Tunica and I was stuck where I was -- with a group of 70 slot machine addicts.

As I left Resorts, muttering to myself, I could imagine all the poker action that was happening five miles distance at the Gold Strike. Oh well, I thought, for a sailor, any port in a storm. I wandered into the Hollywood Casino, prepared to sit down at the $3-6 game. But there was no game.

'You're the only one signed up,' the attractive female dealer told me. 'Sorry. All the poker players are over at the Gold Strike for the World Poker Open.'

If I had been a drinker, that would have been a signal to order my first dry martini -- and make it very dry. My first day at what had been a gambler's paradise and where I had won my biggest tournament -- and I was miserable.

Nothing to do except go back to Resorts, I thought. Maybe a miracle would happen.

Well, I am happy to report the miracle did occur in the form of a 6-1 security officer named Jerry Thomas. This genial giant was standing at the entrance to Resort when I walked through the door. With his years of experience watching people, Thomas could see I was not a happy camper.

'Can I help you?,' he said with a big smile. 'That's what we're supposed to be doing -- helping the players.'

I unloaded my situation on him. Jerry understood. He glanced at his watch.

'I get off at 3 p.m.,' he said. 'That's 25 minutes from now. I'll give you a ride over there. We can't let a poker player like you go without a game, now, can we?'

He was waiting at the hotel entrance to make good on his promise. As we drove to the Gold Strike, Thomas agreed that the shuttle and taxi situation in Tunica did not help the town put its best foot forward.

'The casino owners are working on the problem,' he said, 'but as of right now, it's very tough on players who don't have their own transportation. Hopefully this will improve in the future.'

He dropped me off at the casino, wished me good luck and left.

That night I played in a WPO seven-card stud high low tournament. I would like to say I repeated my performance 14 years earlier, but I didn't. With three tables left, I got knocked out of the tournament. I then bought into a cash game and won a couple of hundred before I decided to call it a night. One of the players, Sean, and his lovely wife, agreed to give me a lift back to Resorts. Both of them, by the way, are dealers who are involved in the WSOP.

Today I am living in Arizona.. Summing up my Tunica experience, I must say it was worth the trip. I met some fabulous people and can assure you that Southern folks are the best when it comes to being friendly and accommodating.

Author: Geno Lawrenzi Jr.

(Geno Lawrenzi Jr. is an international journalist, magazine author and ghostwriter. If you have a unique gambling story to share with him, you may qualify for a cash award. Send your story with all the details to glawrenzi@gmail.com ).