The most memorable television commercials urging slot machines in Maryland arrived 10 years ago, designed specifically to make voters feel like idiots for not embracing the darned things. Now we’ve finally gotten the message and voted to legalize them here. And yet, you can almost hear those old TV voices, and they’re still making us feel like idiots.
Remember the old TV spots from the slots proponents? They had actors pretending to be Delaware residents, crying, one after another, “Thank you, Maryland.”
They couldn’t thank us enough. They looked us in the eye and thanked us for being chumps. They thanked us for our short-sightedness on rejecting slots, and for our misplaced morality about gambling, and for a governor named Parris Glendening who said no slots as long as he was running the state.
They thanked us mainly for all the money we were sending Delaware’s way. Because we didn’t have slot machines in Maryland, we were driving up I-95 to gamble in Delaware. We were gambling so much in Delaware that our money was helping to build new schools, with new classroom computers, and new police driving on new roads and bridges and protecting clean and safe neighborhoods. All, in Delaware.
And, let us not forget, this new money was also paying for newly flourishing Delaware racetracks.
Meanwhile, many of us have argued for slots in Maryland. Sometimes, the argument’s about money — particularly in these tough economic times. Some of it’s about propping up the horse racing industry here. Some have challenged the old morality argument: It’s a little hypocritical to say gambling’s a social plague when we’ve already got legalized betting on horses and lotteries and keno games and such.
But opponents have argued: Gambling’s no way to bankroll a state. The costs of crime and addiction are too much. Yes, gambling means jobs — but they’re low-rent jobs, when we should be training people for biotech industries and such.
The other anti-slots argument is this: These people — those who run the gambling industry — never know when to stop shoving it down your throats.
And that’s why some of us recall those old TV commercials now, and feel like idiots all over again — even as we’ve finally embraced the thing that once made us feel so foolish.
Five days ago, Marylanders went to the polls and voted to legalize slot machines. We’ll have them at five locations around the state: Baltimore City and Anne Arundel, Cecil, Worcester and Allegheny counties. And look what happened.
Immediately, Delaware had heart failure. No more actors calling out, “Thank you, Maryland.” Now, it’s: Maryland, what have you done to us?
Some of these new Maryland slots parlors will adjoin Delaware’s western and southern borders. Delaware feels threatened. So what are they doing? They’re talking of bigger games.
One of those talking about it is Ed Sutor, president of the Delaware Video Lottery Advisory Council, who is also president and CEO of Dover Downs. (Sutor, by the way, says about 35 percent of his customers come from Maryland.) He says Delaware’s got to up the ante now that Maryland’s getting slots.
He’s now wants to legalize sports betting. The outgoing governor, Ruth Ann Minner, has opposed it, but the governor-elect, Jack Markell, says he’s willing to think about it. And Markell’s also willing to think about table games.
And this is what makes some of us feel kind of foolish these days.
For 10 years, we’ve been hearing the same pitch about gambling in Maryland: We’re not looking for casinos, we’re not looking to turn this into Atlantic City. We just want to put slot machines into a few places, to help revive horse racing and help build schools and roads.
But that’s all.
That argument was important. You limit it to slots — admittedly, a sucker’s game, but at least they were setting limits — and you aren’t changing the entire culture of a city or a suburb. That was the argument when Delaware first brought in slots, and it’s been the argument here, too.
So what happens? Maryland dips a toe into the gambling waters, and the ripples turn into a wave by the time they reach Delaware — and suddenly get them to ponder gambling beyond slots.
And what will happen here? Bettors will say, “Why should we play a sucker’s game like slots when Delaware’s got table games? Let’s go play some blackjack.”
Will Maryland then up the ante once more? No, of course not. Even when Delaware’s bringing in new money with table games, thus making Maryland slots look financially puny and disappointing.
At which point, we’ll start seeing TV commercials here, produced by casino proponents. There will be actors, pretending to be Delaware residents. They will say, “Thank you, Maryland.” Bet on it.
