23-10-2010, 06:36 AM
Oct 23, 2010
Living with casinos
Who are thronging the casinos and ringing in record profits for Resorts World Sentosa and Marina Bay Sands? How much do they spend, how often do they go and how long do they stay? Most importantly, can they afford it? The Straits Times spends five nights staking out both casinos to find out.
By Huang Lijie and Wong Kim Hoh
IT WAS the Chinese Mid-Autumn Festival.
Technician Jerry Lee, 38, had missed the celebratory dinner his mother had cooked at home. But he had far more pressing matters at hand - recouping the $300 he had lost over two hours at the blackjack table in the Resorts World Sentosa (RWS) casino.
He planned to stay till his fortunes turned or he lost the $800 limit he had set himself, whichever came sooner. He reckoned he had a good shot at being in the black. After all, he had been visiting the casino every fortnight and had won 'seven times out of 10', he said.
It was 9.30 on a Wednesday night. Around him were swarms of gamblers, brows knitted in concentration and pockets thick with wads of notes. A cacophony of grunts, whoops and curses occasionally erupted from the crowded blackjack, baccarat and pai kow tables, or the one-armed bandits, to use the popular description of jackpot machines.
He and others preferred to sit in solitary silence, fiddling with their chips and eating mooncakes under the casino's ambient lights, rather than under the moon at home with their families.
Although accents and sartorial tastes can be giveaways, it is not always easy to differentiate the local from the foreign punters. But Singaporeans are more likely to go to the casinos alone.
When contacted by The Straits Times, both places were tight-lipped about their number of daily local patrons. But Singaporeans reportedly make up about a third of the 25,000 daily visitors who throng the Marina Bay Sands (MBS) casino, which opened in April 27 this year. RWS - which opened earlier on Feb 14 - is believed to have a similar proportion of local gamblers among its 30,000 daily visitors.
In May, it was disclosed in Parliament that both had collected $70 million in casino levies since they threw open their doors for business. Singaporeans and permanent residents have to pay $100 for a daily pass or $2,000 for an annual pass to gain entry to each of the two gambling establishments.
On The Straits Times' visits to both casinos over five days, we counted - over half-hour intervals - the number of local people entering both casinos at different times of the day. More than 200 locals cruised through the doors every 30 minutes. For every three Singaporean punters who dropped in, there were four foreign ones.
From interviews conducted with local people, the money they brought with them ranged from a couple of hundred dollars to tens of thousands.
One housewife placed bets no bigger than $10 and said her gambling budget was $100; a technician said he was prepared to lose $2,000 and wagered between $25 and $75 each time. But there were also high rollers and professional gamblers who had six-digit lines of credit, and who did not flinch at bets of up to $5,000 per hand.
Veteran gaming and hospitality consultant Ronald Tan, 65, has deployed a team of 20 researchers to help him track the developments of the two casinos since their opening.
He believes the number of Singaporean punters patronising the two casinos is higher than officially reported, making up between 50 and 55 per cent of casino-goers.
Earlier this month, an unnamed Singaporean tycoon reportedly lost $100 million at the two casinos. In June, Mr Henry Quek, managing director of Far Ocean Sea Products, lost $26 million at RWS in three days.
The National Addictions Management Service says the number of problem gamblers seeking medical treatment and counselling has been on the rise. Between April and June this year, it saw 179 patients for gambling addiction, about one-third of them - 66 - new patients.
In the same period last year, it saw a total of 122 patients, 44 of them new cases.
As of early last month, 38 people have been charged with casino-related crimes, about half of them local people.
Dr Derek da Cunha, author of Singapore Places Its Bets, believes the number of locals frequenting the casinos is likely to move�in tandem with their lost and won fortunes over the next two years.
He believes the number of local visitors will stabilise once the first wave of gamblers' pockets are emptied. But as soon as they have raised enough money to stake bets again, they will visit casinos again.
But he concedes there will always be new converts visiting casinos - initially out of curiosity, then getting hooked.
'Ours is a highly competitive society where there is enormous pressure on people to attain riches quickly, so the two casinos may be viewed by some as a means to acquire money quickly.'
Professional gamblers like Ricky (not his real name), 50, who have gambled all around the world for the past three decades, think the number of local gamblers will level off in a couple of years.
'I think by then, there would be enough cautionary tales. Everyone would know a neighbour, relative or loved one who has been burnt at the casino.
'It's going to be like Macau. When the casinos there first opened, there were a lot of locals. But now, most of the punters you see are foreigners,' he says.
Meanwhile, what worries industry veteran Mr Tan is that bets at RWS and MBS - many placed by local people - have become obscenely large. 'Bets of $500,000 to $600,000 a hand are becoming normal. Half a million can change hands at the flip of a card,' he says.
'About 20 years ago, $20 million was a casino's entire turnover in a week. Now, a high roller could make or lose this sum in a day,' says Mr Tan, who is writing two books, Sustainable Gaming and The Real Genting Story.
Mr Tan, who is doing a casino feasibility study for the Japanese government, says more needs to be done to contain the social fallout which may intensify in the coming months.
'The gaming industry is so new and so different. The casinos are open 24 hours, they offer instant gratification.
'Already, a lot of people are in trouble now. They are borrowing money from credit card companies and loan sharks. People who can least afford to gamble like foreign workers are also doing it. I've seen them passing the hat around to pool together money which they blow on a few hands. That could be their week's or month's wages,' he says. He says the Government needs to re-evaluate the $100 levy as it is obviously not an effective deterrent.
'They could look into restricting the number of visits for Singa-poreans, like four times a month. There also must be more policing,' he says, citing Sydney, which has experienced and hawk-eyed counsellors who patrol the casinos spotting distressed gamblers.
The Government should also clamp down on kickbacks and generous lines of credit being extended to local high rollers and VIP players, he says. Besides food and drink - from Vietnamese spring rolls to champagne - served on the house, they also get free parking, and more importantly, rebates of around 1 per cent or more of the amount they gamble.
Members of the casinos - anyone can sign up for free - also get points each time they gamble, which can be used to redeem everything from hotel stays, and food and beverage vouchers to concert tickets.
These 'freebies' have ensnared many local people. Since the casinos opened here, they have evolved into alternatives to the Night Safari and karaoke bars for some. Some, like Ms L.L. Kuo, 38, who runs her own advertising design company, use the casinos to entertain foreign guests, especially since foreigners are exempt from paying the entrance levy.
'I take my overseas guests to the casino and it is good because I get free food and drinks there. The place is like a country club,' she gushes.
Others go there to unwind, network or people-watch - like Mr T.K. Neo, a retail manager in his late 30s with a two-year-old daughter, who pays the day levy once every two months to play the jackpot at RWS.
He says: 'It is a mindless game, just another way for me to relax and entertain myself besides watching movies and reading horror books.'
It has also become somewhat of a daycare facility for senior citizens at a loose end, even a hospice, to help terminally ill patients pass the time.
On a weekday afternoon at RWS, no fewer than six wheelchairs were spotted in the casino. Four of the chairs were folded and placed next to their owners who were perched on stools playing the slot machines. Two other wheelchairs were occupied by elderly women who sat in them, playing roulette and baccarat, with their maids helping them to place their chips.
As Mr Tan says: 'Singapore's casinos should not deviate from the original idea of creating fun and buzz. The stakes shouldn't be so high that going there becomes a matter of life and death.'
lijie@sph.com.sg
kimhoh@sph.com.sg
Living with casinos
Who are thronging the casinos and ringing in record profits for Resorts World Sentosa and Marina Bay Sands? How much do they spend, how often do they go and how long do they stay? Most importantly, can they afford it? The Straits Times spends five nights staking out both casinos to find out.
By Huang Lijie and Wong Kim Hoh
IT WAS the Chinese Mid-Autumn Festival.
Technician Jerry Lee, 38, had missed the celebratory dinner his mother had cooked at home. But he had far more pressing matters at hand - recouping the $300 he had lost over two hours at the blackjack table in the Resorts World Sentosa (RWS) casino.
He planned to stay till his fortunes turned or he lost the $800 limit he had set himself, whichever came sooner. He reckoned he had a good shot at being in the black. After all, he had been visiting the casino every fortnight and had won 'seven times out of 10', he said.
It was 9.30 on a Wednesday night. Around him were swarms of gamblers, brows knitted in concentration and pockets thick with wads of notes. A cacophony of grunts, whoops and curses occasionally erupted from the crowded blackjack, baccarat and pai kow tables, or the one-armed bandits, to use the popular description of jackpot machines.
He and others preferred to sit in solitary silence, fiddling with their chips and eating mooncakes under the casino's ambient lights, rather than under the moon at home with their families.
Although accents and sartorial tastes can be giveaways, it is not always easy to differentiate the local from the foreign punters. But Singaporeans are more likely to go to the casinos alone.
When contacted by The Straits Times, both places were tight-lipped about their number of daily local patrons. But Singaporeans reportedly make up about a third of the 25,000 daily visitors who throng the Marina Bay Sands (MBS) casino, which opened in April 27 this year. RWS - which opened earlier on Feb 14 - is believed to have a similar proportion of local gamblers among its 30,000 daily visitors.
In May, it was disclosed in Parliament that both had collected $70 million in casino levies since they threw open their doors for business. Singaporeans and permanent residents have to pay $100 for a daily pass or $2,000 for an annual pass to gain entry to each of the two gambling establishments.
On The Straits Times' visits to both casinos over five days, we counted - over half-hour intervals - the number of local people entering both casinos at different times of the day. More than 200 locals cruised through the doors every 30 minutes. For every three Singaporean punters who dropped in, there were four foreign ones.
From interviews conducted with local people, the money they brought with them ranged from a couple of hundred dollars to tens of thousands.
One housewife placed bets no bigger than $10 and said her gambling budget was $100; a technician said he was prepared to lose $2,000 and wagered between $25 and $75 each time. But there were also high rollers and professional gamblers who had six-digit lines of credit, and who did not flinch at bets of up to $5,000 per hand.
Veteran gaming and hospitality consultant Ronald Tan, 65, has deployed a team of 20 researchers to help him track the developments of the two casinos since their opening.
He believes the number of Singaporean punters patronising the two casinos is higher than officially reported, making up between 50 and 55 per cent of casino-goers.
Earlier this month, an unnamed Singaporean tycoon reportedly lost $100 million at the two casinos. In June, Mr Henry Quek, managing director of Far Ocean Sea Products, lost $26 million at RWS in three days.
The National Addictions Management Service says the number of problem gamblers seeking medical treatment and counselling has been on the rise. Between April and June this year, it saw 179 patients for gambling addiction, about one-third of them - 66 - new patients.
In the same period last year, it saw a total of 122 patients, 44 of them new cases.
As of early last month, 38 people have been charged with casino-related crimes, about half of them local people.
Dr Derek da Cunha, author of Singapore Places Its Bets, believes the number of locals frequenting the casinos is likely to move�in tandem with their lost and won fortunes over the next two years.
He believes the number of local visitors will stabilise once the first wave of gamblers' pockets are emptied. But as soon as they have raised enough money to stake bets again, they will visit casinos again.
But he concedes there will always be new converts visiting casinos - initially out of curiosity, then getting hooked.
'Ours is a highly competitive society where there is enormous pressure on people to attain riches quickly, so the two casinos may be viewed by some as a means to acquire money quickly.'
Professional gamblers like Ricky (not his real name), 50, who have gambled all around the world for the past three decades, think the number of local gamblers will level off in a couple of years.
'I think by then, there would be enough cautionary tales. Everyone would know a neighbour, relative or loved one who has been burnt at the casino.
'It's going to be like Macau. When the casinos there first opened, there were a lot of locals. But now, most of the punters you see are foreigners,' he says.
Meanwhile, what worries industry veteran Mr Tan is that bets at RWS and MBS - many placed by local people - have become obscenely large. 'Bets of $500,000 to $600,000 a hand are becoming normal. Half a million can change hands at the flip of a card,' he says.
'About 20 years ago, $20 million was a casino's entire turnover in a week. Now, a high roller could make or lose this sum in a day,' says Mr Tan, who is writing two books, Sustainable Gaming and The Real Genting Story.
Mr Tan, who is doing a casino feasibility study for the Japanese government, says more needs to be done to contain the social fallout which may intensify in the coming months.
'The gaming industry is so new and so different. The casinos are open 24 hours, they offer instant gratification.
'Already, a lot of people are in trouble now. They are borrowing money from credit card companies and loan sharks. People who can least afford to gamble like foreign workers are also doing it. I've seen them passing the hat around to pool together money which they blow on a few hands. That could be their week's or month's wages,' he says. He says the Government needs to re-evaluate the $100 levy as it is obviously not an effective deterrent.
'They could look into restricting the number of visits for Singa-poreans, like four times a month. There also must be more policing,' he says, citing Sydney, which has experienced and hawk-eyed counsellors who patrol the casinos spotting distressed gamblers.
The Government should also clamp down on kickbacks and generous lines of credit being extended to local high rollers and VIP players, he says. Besides food and drink - from Vietnamese spring rolls to champagne - served on the house, they also get free parking, and more importantly, rebates of around 1 per cent or more of the amount they gamble.
Members of the casinos - anyone can sign up for free - also get points each time they gamble, which can be used to redeem everything from hotel stays, and food and beverage vouchers to concert tickets.
These 'freebies' have ensnared many local people. Since the casinos opened here, they have evolved into alternatives to the Night Safari and karaoke bars for some. Some, like Ms L.L. Kuo, 38, who runs her own advertising design company, use the casinos to entertain foreign guests, especially since foreigners are exempt from paying the entrance levy.
'I take my overseas guests to the casino and it is good because I get free food and drinks there. The place is like a country club,' she gushes.
Others go there to unwind, network or people-watch - like Mr T.K. Neo, a retail manager in his late 30s with a two-year-old daughter, who pays the day levy once every two months to play the jackpot at RWS.
He says: 'It is a mindless game, just another way for me to relax and entertain myself besides watching movies and reading horror books.'
It has also become somewhat of a daycare facility for senior citizens at a loose end, even a hospice, to help terminally ill patients pass the time.
On a weekday afternoon at RWS, no fewer than six wheelchairs were spotted in the casino. Four of the chairs were folded and placed next to their owners who were perched on stools playing the slot machines. Two other wheelchairs were occupied by elderly women who sat in them, playing roulette and baccarat, with their maids helping them to place their chips.
As Mr Tan says: 'Singapore's casinos should not deviate from the original idea of creating fun and buzz. The stakes shouldn't be so high that going there becomes a matter of life and death.'
lijie@sph.com.sg
kimhoh@sph.com.sg