MTR Gaming Group Inc., the outfit that owns and runs Erie's Presque Isle Downs & Casino, has launched a new national account wagering service, as outlined in the top story on today's City & Region page in the Erie Times-News. It offers online and phone wagering on horse races from more than 100 harness and thoroughbred race tracks worldwide.

The headline in today's paper -- "Place your bets -- from home" -- triggered a spate of calls from interested readers. What made it especially fascinating for me, though, were the different types of folks who phoned or e-mailed to comment.

Two women warned that the new service takes Erie one step closer to Sodom and Gomorrah. Another elderly woman thinks it's a splendid idea, because now she won't have to fight the crowds on Upper Peach Street on her way to The Downs at Erie to place her Kentucky Derby bet.

Finally, a gentleman I've known for many years, dating back to when I was a teenaged apprentice in the sports department, called to say that the more things change, the more they stay the same. Young people might not even be familiar with this gentleman's vocation, which would be "bookmaker," or, as he's known more informally, a "bookie."

"Your father would love this," he began, alluding to my late, beloved father, who was known on occasion to place a wager or two on a promising nag. Needless to say, he did not die a wealthy man, though I can remember many wonderful times from my childhood.

"All the things we had to scramble around town to do on the sly are legal now," the bookie said. "You can buy a number where you get or gas or quart of milk. You can pick up the phone to bet the ponies. And, you can drive to Summit Township to try your luck at the slots." Presque Isle Downs & Casino is located in Summit Township.

He reminded me of the time, when I was 8, when the state police converged on the Polish National Alliance Club to raid the dozen or so slot machines there. The profits from those machines helped keep the club afloat.

Fortunately, just as the troopers were leaving the station, one of them sneaked away to a phone which he used to tip off the manager of the PNA. He said they'd arrive at the club in about 15 minutes, which didn't give the guys there much time to find a hiding place for the slot machines.

Because we rented our home, which was located next door to the PNA, from the club, about a dozen men came over at midnight, carrying the machines upstairs and storing them in a large, walk-in into closet. The slots, they promised, would remain in storage there for only a week or two, or until the "heat died down." As you might imagine, this was terribly exciting to young children, although my mother was not at all pleased.

"Don't you dare go near those machines," she said sternly to my brothers and me. Naturally, we dumped all the contents of our piggy banks into those machines. It turned out to be a good lesson, though, because I can recall no payoffs -- just more feeding the hungry lion.

Even though I've worked at horse race tracks and spent considerable amounts of time on the sports beats, alongside gamblers, through the years, I've never been a big gambler myself. Perhaps it was that lesson of pouring all my money into those slot machines in the closet and getting nothing in return.

At any rate, it will be nice to know that, like my friend on the phone, I, too, won't have to fight the crowds on Saturday when the Kentucky Derby has its 133rd running. Whether this represents progress or not, I can't say. But it's certainly more convenient.

-- Kevin Cuneo

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