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Arnold RotshteinProfessional player
Country:
 USA |
Content:
- Arnold Rothstein: The Professional Gambler
- From Cigar Salesman to Professional Gambler
- The Promise and Rise of the Gambling Empire
- The Gambling Empire and Closure
- The Legend of Arnold Rothstein
- The Mysterious Death of the Legend
Arnold Rothstein: The Professional Gambler
Arnold Rothstein, known as "Mr. Big," "Big Spender," and "The Swindler," was more than just a man - he was a legend. He became the prototype for the character in "The Great Gatsby." Rumors circulated that he orchestrated the scandal during the 1919 World Series by bribing the Black Sox team. Arnold Rothstein was an avid gambler, and he had money. He was known as "Mr. Broadway" and even had his own private office at the Lindy restaurant in Manhattan. However, his journey to success started with a humble beginning as a cigar salesman who lived frugally and saved his money. He knew that simple accumulation would never help him achieve his goals, but it was only the beginning of his path. He didn't think too far ahead; he focused on a specific goal.
From Cigar Salesman to Professional Gambler
Rothstein worked as a cigar salesman until he saved two thousand dollars. At this point, he believed it was enough to become a professional gambler and try his luck in the world of gambling. He quit his job and never worked for anyone else again. Rothstein became a professional gambler and dedicated his entire life to it. He entered the gambling industry in 1902, placing bets on baseball games, elections, horse races, and boxing matches. He also played poker. Rothstein's philosophy was simple: "If a person is a fool, someone will exploit the best they have, so why shouldn't it be you? And if not you, then you're just as much of a fool as they are."
The Promise and Rise of the Gambling Empire
Rothstein promised his new wife, Caroline, that once he made a fortune, he would retire. He enjoyed discussing the philosophy of gambling with his wife but never revealed his specific methods. In Saratoga, he pawned all the precious gifts he had given Caroline because it was more profitable than borrowing money, thanks to lower interest rates. By the end of their honeymoon, which coincided with the end of the Saratoga racing season, Rothstein had earned twelve thousand dollars and redeemed all the pawned items. Upon returning to New York, he decided to open his own gambling house. He rented two mansions on West 46th Street, one for them to live in and the other to house roulette wheels, faro tables, and poker tables. He sought the infamous Irishman Sullivan for protection. Sullivan was a supporter of marriage and large families, and upon learning that his protege had gotten married, he offered him protection as a wedding gift.
The Gambling Empire and Closure
Horse racing and horse race betting had always been popular in America, especially in major cities. As the number of people interested in horse race betting increased, the art of bookmaking also gained popularity. However, it only became truly profitable after Rothstein organized various bookmaking establishments that generated significant revenue. By the 1910s, Rothstein's casino had become one of the most respected, but he decided to close it because it had become too well-known. In 1916, he opened a new casino in Hewlett, Long Island, where the cost of protection was lower than in Manhattan. The leased building and land belonged to a senator who was considered the most influential political figure in the area. The casino was beautifully furnished, and the invited guests were offered the best drinks and food. All the casino staff wore evening attire.
Rothstein used what he called the "allure of snobbery." "People like to think they are better than others," he said. "As long as they are willing to pay to prove it, I am happy to give them that opportunity." He provided them with the opportunity to pay for three years, which earned him $500,000 in income. However, he was eventually forced to close his club because the local authorities became too greedy. Rothstein's life had three significant wins that turned him into a legend.
The Legend of Arnold Rothstein
The first significant win occurred in 1917. August Belmont owned a horse named Aurelius, trained by Sam Hildreth, who was considered one of the best trainers in the country. During the 1917 season, Aurelius lost to a horse named Omar Khayyam from Kentucky. Hildreth knew that the jockey had outsmarted him by dropping his whip during the race. It was decided that a rematch between the two horses would take place. On October 17, a day before the race, Rothstein decided to bet $240,000 on Aurelius but couldn't find a bookmaker willing to accept such a high wager. Shortly afterward, he received a phone call informing him that there was someone who would take any bet he made.
Rothstein immediately realized that it was a trap. He called Hildreth and shared the information with him. If someone was going to lose in that race, it wouldn't be Rothstein. At the last minute, Hildreth changed the jockeys, and Aurelius emerged as the victor. Rothstein earned $300,000 from the bet.
In 1921, Rothstein managed to win even larger sums - $850,000 and $500,000.
The story of how Arnold Rothstein "fixed" the 1919 World Series is the most popular myth about him. In reality, however, it was different. His name, reputation, and wealth were used to influence dishonest baseball players. But Rothstein, knowing this, distanced himself from the actual bribery. He simply allowed the situation to unfold on its own.
The Mysterious Death of the Legend
At 10:53 PM on Sunday, November 4, 1928, a phone call was made to the duty officer at the West 47th Street police station: a gunshot wound at the Park Central Hotel. By midnight, it was known that the victim was Arnold Rothstein, 46 years old. He was found near the service entrance of the Park Central Hotel.
On that evening, Rothstein arrived at the Lindy restaurant and went to his private office, which served as his regular meeting place. Several people were already waiting for him there. One of them, Jimmy Meehan, managed the Park City club, one of the largest casinos in the city in the 1920s.
Around 10:15 PM, Rothstein received a phone call. After a short conversation, he hung up and asked Meehan to step outside with him. "Someone near Park Central wants to meet me," Rothstein said. He then pulled out a gun from his pocket and handed it to Meehan, saying, "Hold onto it for me; I'll be back soon."
The man waiting for Rothstein near the hotel was George McManus. A bookmaker and gambler, McManus had excellent connections in the city, including a brother who was a police officer and another who was a priest. A few weeks before, McManus had organized a high-stakes poker game, and Rothstein had participated. The game started on September 8 and lasted until the early hours of September 10. By the end of the marathon, Rothstein had lost substantial amounts of money to the other players - $219,000, $73,000, and $30,000. When he left without signing an IOU, two players became furious. "Oh, calm down," McManus assured them. "It's Rothstein! He'll call you to settle the debt within a couple of days."
A week passed, but Rothstein did not make contact. Rumors spread that the game had been rigged, including Rothstein himself discussing it with his friend, Nicky Arnstein, who had just been released from prison and returned to New York. Arnstein advised Rothstein to pay off the players regardless of the circumstances.
Rothstein decided not to rush, hoping to negotiate a lower settlement amount. However, the pressure on McManus increased as he was the host of the game and promised the players that Rothstein would pay. As weeks went by, the players became more insistent, and McManus, drowning in debts, continued to threaten Rothstein. On Sunday evening, November 4, McManus called Rothstein from Room 349 at the Park Central Hotel, where he had registered under the name George Richards, and asked him to come immediately.
The details of their conversation and the purpose of their meeting remain unknown. Shortly after Rothstein entered Room 349, he was shot in the abdomen. The gun flew out of the window, hit a taxi roof, and fell onto the sidewalk. Later, hotel staff witnessed Rothstein descending the service stairs, clutching his stomach, and begging for a taxi to take him home.
He was transported to the hospital, and his wife was allowed to visit him on Monday evening. He repeatedly pleaded with her to let him go home. "Don't leave me. I don't want to be alone. I can't stand being alone," he begged his wife. While trying to get up, he lost consciousness and never regained it. Rothstein died the following morning, November 6, 1928, on Election Day.
That year, Rothstein had placed large bets on the election. If he had survived, he would have earned $570,000. His death annulled all the bets. The next day, Rothstein was buried according to Jewish tradition in Queens.
