The Ups and Downs of the
Suitcase Man
24 February 2006
By Mark Pilarski
Dear Mark,
On one episode of the television show CSI,
Grissom talks about a guy who goes into a Las
Vegas casino and bets one million dollars on one
roll of the dice and loses. Is that a true
story? Ralph S.
Ground zero for plenty of Las Vegas legendary
lore was Binion’s Horseshoe Casino, a favorite
amongst folks whose preference was no-frills
gambling with some of the best odds in town. One
factual account at this grind joint on Freemont
Street was that of an adventurous gambler named
William Lee Bergstrom from Austin, Texas.
Bergstrom heard that Benny Binion’s latest
gimmick was that the sky’s the limit” when it
came to maximum betting amounts at the
Horseshoe. Bergstrom called to ask Binion if he
would really accept a bet of a million dollars.
Binion assured Bergstrom he would book a million
dollar wager, so long as it was his first bet.
So one day in comes Bergstrom with $777,000
stuffed into a suitcase, plopped it down on the
crap table (they never bothered to convert the
money into chips) and told the dealer to put the
entire amount on the Don’t Pass line. On her
third roll, cinco dos, adios, an elderly woman
sevened out. Bergstrom was handed an additional
$777,000, then walked straight out the casino
front door escorted by Benny’s son Ted.
Naturally, no fevered gambler can forget and
forgo that kind of action for long, so Bergstrom
returns and wins another $590,000 all-or-nothing
bet; then he comes back and wins a similar
$190,000 wager, then beats Binion’s again for an
additional $90,000.
In November of 1984, Bergstrom finally had his
one million dollar war chest to wager. He calls
Binion’s to ask if he could once again bet the
whole shebang, and Binion, already down over
$600,000 to Bergstrom, backed up his often
quoted phrase: “Your biggest bet is your first.
After that, let it roll” and said yes.
Bergstrom returns with one million buckaroos and
tells a dealer to once again to put the whole
million dollars on the Don’t Pass line. It was
the come out roll, meaning, no point had been
established, so on the initial roll, Bergstrom
had only four ways to win (by a 2, 3 12 rolling)
and eight ways to lose (if a 7 or 11 rolled).
The lady roller tosses a six-one: a front line
winner, back line skinner. He was done.
Bergstrom’s $1,000,000 was gone.
Three months later at a Strip hotel Bergstrom
committed suicide, although one version of the
incident that I have read had him playing
Russian roulette with his six-shooter and he
drew the short bullet. Either way, he wagered
his own life, and lost.
True, plenty of players with a million-dollar
loss would pull the plug, but do the math;
Bergstrom was $647,000 to the plus, at least
against Benny Binion.
Dear Mark,
Considering you have worked for several casinos,
who is to say that you are not under some kind
of gag order prohibiting you to give any
information considering gambling? I know several
people that have and still work for casinos and
they are prohibited from telling any information
whatsoever. MJ
My casino work history files mimic the
citizenship portion of my elementary school
report card. He talks too much! All too often I
heard the “Hey, Pilarski, shut up and deal.”
Those verbal slap-downs had nothing to do with
me lending a customer a helping hand, more like
me kibitzing with another employee who is also
dealing on a live game.
As for offering assistance, every casino has its
own set rules, yet of the seven casinos where I
was employed, none had any problem with us rank
and filers offering customers advice, with maybe
the single exception of whether a player should
hit or stand in blackjack. That was the extent
of my restrictions on offering comment on play
to patrons.
As for here and now regarding a gag order from
casinos affecting this column, you obviously
don’t read it often enough. But once a coalition
of casinos offers me some payola, well...
Gambling quote of the week: "If you got talent,
Las Vegas is the land of milk and honey. If you
don't, it's a burial ground.” Benny Binion
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