War on Australia’s ‘pokie’ cheats

Press, 30 January 1984, Page 16

War on Australia’s ‘pokie’ cheats

NZPA-AAP correspondent, CRAIG REGAN, looks at a recent report that itemises large-scale cheating and graft associated with the “pokies,” the übiquitous poker machines that keep most clubs in New South Wales in the money.

A proposal for tighter control over club secretary-managers and poker machine mechanics? It’s almost certainly the best news since sliced bread according to people in the licensed club game. New South Wales club managers claim they’ve been kicked from pillar to post by the recession, random breath testing, and instant lotteries. They claim that caustic criticism from the head of the Victorian Government’s inquiry into poker machines, a Sydney Queen’s Counsel, Murrayn Wilcox, was another blow below the belt. Mr Wilcox said that there was “no control whatsoever” exercised in New South Wales over those involved in the poker machine industry. Club managers are loath to come on the record over the corrupt minority within their ranks but privately confide that the Wilcox verdict is not far from the truth. Measures which will be considered by the New South Wales Department of Finance include the licensing of club managers, poker machine mechanics, and of other staff involved in gaming operations, as well as compulsory training for club managers, and more measuring devices on poker machines. Many managers are welcoming the push for new controls simply because it is going to put the honest ones in the clear and make life tough for the bad element. “This proposal for tighter controls over managers and mechanics is one of the best bits of news to hit the industry in a long time,” a secretary-manager of a medium-sized Sydney club said. “Poker machine mechanics have unbelievable scope to rob you blind. You can have 10 or 12 service calls a day, seven days a week. You don’t know any of the blokes,” he said. The life of the poker machine cheat is busy and lucrative. He travels frequently, being careful not to become too well known in the one club. His weapons are a knowledge of machine workings, sleight of hand, and sometimes a mate in the business who can help him cover his tracks. Smart cheats play two or three machines in a club, take $3O or $4O from each, and move on. Few insiders — dishonest staff members or mechanics — are caught

but most club sources will not deny they exist. “If you’re a machine mechanic and you’re dishonest you can make a fortune," the club source claimed. “With the newer machines on the market these days, it’s just a question of changing a micro-chip to alter the paying characteristics. “Then you send a few mates in and they play the machines until it’s empty.” If a serviceman has a staff member in his pocket, the job is twice as easy. Poker machines are fitted with a device called a scuttice. It prevents the coin mechanism being triggered open but takes a matter of seconds to rig, opening the way for a smart operator with a “yo-yo” device. “Professional cheats or dishonest mechanics have been known to ask a staff member they may know or could be paying to turn a blind eye while they open the scuttice,” the senior club manager said. “From then on it’s open slather. An accomplice can play the machine to his heart’s content.” Pokie cheats have “devices galore” according to that manager. Many clubs operate closed circuit surveillance systems but they are more of a deterrent than a means of catching cheats in the act because someone has to be on hand to watch the monitor. Few clubs make noises about potentially dishonest mechanics because it is not good for their image. Some feel taking a cheat to court — particularly one who is employed by the poker machine company or -club — will reflect badly on their management. A smaller proportion of managers have a darker motive for turning a blind eye, according to one official. “A typical machine is listed at about $650 each to buy. A club manager could beat the dealer down to $550 and the machine vendor could still spend up to $l5OO on kickbacks to committeemen and staff to ensure they use his brand in their club. “It’s the biggest rort-out and it stinks, but it’s going on. Mechanics are employed by the poker machine companies and I suppose they earn $350 or so a weak. “Clubs pay out $3O a week for service to each machine and if one breaks down it could cost the

poker machine company $lOO or $2OO in parts. “I’ve seen brand new machines break down three times in three hours. There’s no way it can be a paying proposition for some people in the industry unless they have an alternative income. “Mechanics are breaking their necks to get into a club. You have to wonder why.” The Wilcox report said there was no legislation in New South Wales setting minimum technical standards for poker machines and no test applied to a club before granting a poker machine licence

to determine whether it was a proper body to conduct a gambling operation. One club staff member, a specialist in the field of poker machine analysis, agreed the system of internal control needed tightening. He said some of the things a minority of club managers escaped with was unbelievable. The Finance Department secretary, David Horton, said: “The problem for us is how to retain them as clubs without taking away the essence of them being clubs. “But there is money being lost,

and there is s degree of corruption — so we’ve got to be tougher. “We do not want to be seen as in any way encouraging corruption, of any description.” The Victorian Government rejected the introduction of poker machines after receiving the Wilcox report. The two-armed bandits do not yet outnumber their one-armed counterparts in New South Wales clubs, but no one is brave enough to hazard a guess how much of members’ money they are making away with.