Viewpoint: What I learned playing the slots

By Eric Siegel

October 9, 2008

As obvious as it is, it's an axiom that's worth repeating as the debate over slot machines enters the final weeks: Whatever revenue the state stands to derive will come out of the pockets of Marylanders (and any out-of-state gamblers who can be lured here to play).

Just how much an individual bettor may lose - or win, for that matter - depends on an alchemy of how much he or she bets, how long and how often he or she plays, and, of course, luck.

Clearly, the amount lies somewhere between that contained in the sad but rare tales of financial dissolution often disseminated by gambling opponents and the five, six and seven-figure sums on the oversized checks held by smiling gamblers in promotional photos put out by the casino industry.

But where? To get an idea, I ran a personal experiment.

As a regular visitor to casinos, I play the table games, where the odds for the player are more favorable than slots - but they would not be included under Maryland's ballot initiative. So on a recent trip, I decided to put $30 apiece into three different kinds of low-priced slot machines - and to stop on each after playing for an hour or after my money ran out, whichever came first. The idea was to make my money last as long as possible in an emporium where on some slot machines you can spend $25 or more on a single spin of the reels.

My first stop was a 25-cent "Joker Poker" machine, one of a number of video draw poker variations that, unlike most slot machines, require some skill and knowledge. In the game, jokers are wild and you decide whether to keep or discard each individual card by pushing buttons that direct the machine to hold or draw.

The machine's biggest payout was 250 units, or $62.50. My biggest payout was 15 units, or $3.75, which I got twice for drawing four-of-a-kinds. I also got a couple of full houses, paying five units, or $1.25.

After an hour, I cashed out. Out of my initial $30, I walked away with $4.75.

Next I sat down at the most inexpensive "Wheel of Fortune" game.

The game was one of a number of "penny slots," but the term is a bit of a come-on. Yes, you can play the machine for a penny a spin. But that entitles you to cash in on only one of the 20 pay lines that zigzag across a screen made up of a grid with 15 boxes for various symbols; hit five "spin" symbols and you get to touch a spot on the screen that sets in motion an overhead wheel that pays 1,000 units.

So, for maximum action, I decided to play a penny per line, or 20 cents per spin. That meant I had to forgo a chance at the progressive jackpot of some $190,000, which requires a maximum bet of 10 cents per line, or $2 a spin - but I figured my chances of winning that were next to nil.

Despite one payoff of $4.02, I watched my credits gradually dwindle. An hour after I started, I left with $1.30.

My final stop was at a quarter "Triple Diamond" game - a traditional machine that features a single line across the center of the screen that pays off if you match three symbols and a diamond that triples your score.

My highest payout was 30 units, or $7.50. Most of the time, I came up empty. In short order, the number of credits I had was zero. Elapsed time: 22 minutes.

In all, I lost $83.95 in a little under 2 Â¿ hours.

Whether that kind of experience constitutes state-sponsored entertainment or state-sponsored exploitation is something the voters will have to decide.

Eric Siegel, a former Baltimore Sun reporter, is journalist-in-residence at the Johns Hopkins University's Institute for Policy Studies.