New Jersey gears up for sports betting
Chad Millman
ESPN INSIDER
Dennis Drazin knows his way around a racetrack. He grew up in Rumson, New Jersey, along the shore, and spent his fair share of days hanging around Monmouth Park, an idyllic stretch of emerald green, Thoroughbred racetrack that turns every wide-eyed kid who sees it into a fan for life. It hooks them before they know any better, before they understand that the green on the track is truly the only color of that shade doing any growing at all.
The horse racing business has been dying for decades, slowly and surely. But that didn't stop Drazin, who graduated from law school in the mid-1970s, from eventually giving the business a go. He became an owner, a breeder, he lobbied for the state's thoroughbred association and, this past May, he became the new boss for his old haunt, Monmouth Park.
Drazin does not bet on sports. "I have a law license," he says. "I don't do anything that is illegal." But, before the year is over, he will become the focal point for the next phase in the battle to legalize sports betting nationwide.
To recap, for those of you who have been ignoring the column for the past few years: In 1993, Congress passed the Professional Amateur Sports Protection Act (PASPA). The bill, spearheaded by New Jersey senator and NBA Hall of Famer, Bill Bradley, banned sports betting nationwide. The exceptions were Nevada, Delaware, Montana and Oregon, states that had pre-existing sports betting laws on the books. Every other state was too late to the counter.
<offer>For a long time, none of them cared. States were too busy getting fat and happy off of lottery revenue and newly built casino revenue. Over a 20-year span, beginning in 1990, the number of states with some form of non-lottery gaming revenue jumped from two handfuls to nearly every one of them in the union. Then, in 2008, with the economy cratering like a good run gone bad, New Jersey realized Atlantic City's profits were in the tank because every state surrounding it had some form of casino gaming. A New Jersey state senator, Ray Lesniak, sued the federal government to have PASPA overturned.
For a few years, the case languished. But this past winter, New Jersey's bombastic governor, Chris Christie, put his support behind the lawsuit. Meanwhile, the voters in New Jersey passed a referendum saying they wanted sports betting in the state. They can't have it, at least not until PASPA is repealed, but Christie used the full-throated power of his pulpit and issued a challenge to the federal government: We're going to have sports betting in New Jersey this football season. If you don't like it, come and stop us.
This is where Drazin comes in. Most casinos on the Atlantic City boardwalk have gaming licenses in other states, so they won't risk losing them by violating a federal law and opening a sports book. And further up the Garden State Parkway, the Meadowlands racetrack is too close to MetLife Stadium, home of the Jets and Giants. Those folks don't want to pick a fight with the anti-gambling NFL. But all Drazin has is a pretty racetrack and a dying sport. When Christie said let's have at it, it was easy for Drazin to say, I'm in.
"It appears I am the only one willing to do it," he says. "But we need revenue to be competitive with other states that have casinos. And this is an opportunity. The governor has given us ability to run with the ball."
Or, at the very least, be his lead blocker.
Because, the truth is, for all of Christie's tough talk and Drazin's willingness to back it up, this is still Jersey: Nothing happens without a fight. (I say that with love and pride -- and as someone who shared bar space with Snooki the night before I sadly moved out of the state last summer.) Currently, regulations regarding sports betting in the state have been drafted and are going through a public comment period, in which people can weigh in with dissenting opinions until August 31. If there are no comments -- meaning there is no need to re-examine the regulations and then repost them, giving people another commenting period -- the earliest Drazin could have a sports book running would be November 1.
"The plan would be to take out our license and open up for business," he says. Drazin, who has a space at the track already picked out for his sports book, expects it to cost Monmouth about a million bucks to get up and running. But, he adds, "We expect a court battle before we ever get that far."
A few years ago, Delaware, which allowed parlay-style betting on the NFL for one season in the mid-1970s, reintroduced sports betting. State lawmakers wanted the full buffet of Vegas-style side bets. But the major sports leagues and the NCAA fought it, nearly until the start of the NFL season. That's when a federal court scaled back Delaware's ambitious plan, saying the state could not offer a style of betting any different than what it had prior to PASPA. New Jersey offers more fertile betting ground, and one with more than a few professional franchises.
"We'd love it if everyone ignored us," says Drazin. "But that is unlikely."
Believe it or not, that is good news, because what happens over the next few months will be the tipping point for the future of sports betting. There will be injunctions to stop Monmouth Park. There will be arguments in court about the legality of PASPA. There will be judges handing down opinions (and appeals no matter who wins). But, eventually, there will be action.
And that's all every bettor wants. </offer>
Chad Millman
ESPN INSIDER
Dennis Drazin knows his way around a racetrack. He grew up in Rumson, New Jersey, along the shore, and spent his fair share of days hanging around Monmouth Park, an idyllic stretch of emerald green, Thoroughbred racetrack that turns every wide-eyed kid who sees it into a fan for life. It hooks them before they know any better, before they understand that the green on the track is truly the only color of that shade doing any growing at all.
The horse racing business has been dying for decades, slowly and surely. But that didn't stop Drazin, who graduated from law school in the mid-1970s, from eventually giving the business a go. He became an owner, a breeder, he lobbied for the state's thoroughbred association and, this past May, he became the new boss for his old haunt, Monmouth Park.
Drazin does not bet on sports. "I have a law license," he says. "I don't do anything that is illegal." But, before the year is over, he will become the focal point for the next phase in the battle to legalize sports betting nationwide.
To recap, for those of you who have been ignoring the column for the past few years: In 1993, Congress passed the Professional Amateur Sports Protection Act (PASPA). The bill, spearheaded by New Jersey senator and NBA Hall of Famer, Bill Bradley, banned sports betting nationwide. The exceptions were Nevada, Delaware, Montana and Oregon, states that had pre-existing sports betting laws on the books. Every other state was too late to the counter.
<offer>For a long time, none of them cared. States were too busy getting fat and happy off of lottery revenue and newly built casino revenue. Over a 20-year span, beginning in 1990, the number of states with some form of non-lottery gaming revenue jumped from two handfuls to nearly every one of them in the union. Then, in 2008, with the economy cratering like a good run gone bad, New Jersey realized Atlantic City's profits were in the tank because every state surrounding it had some form of casino gaming. A New Jersey state senator, Ray Lesniak, sued the federal government to have PASPA overturned.
For a few years, the case languished. But this past winter, New Jersey's bombastic governor, Chris Christie, put his support behind the lawsuit. Meanwhile, the voters in New Jersey passed a referendum saying they wanted sports betting in the state. They can't have it, at least not until PASPA is repealed, but Christie used the full-throated power of his pulpit and issued a challenge to the federal government: We're going to have sports betting in New Jersey this football season. If you don't like it, come and stop us.
This is where Drazin comes in. Most casinos on the Atlantic City boardwalk have gaming licenses in other states, so they won't risk losing them by violating a federal law and opening a sports book. And further up the Garden State Parkway, the Meadowlands racetrack is too close to MetLife Stadium, home of the Jets and Giants. Those folks don't want to pick a fight with the anti-gambling NFL. But all Drazin has is a pretty racetrack and a dying sport. When Christie said let's have at it, it was easy for Drazin to say, I'm in.
"It appears I am the only one willing to do it," he says. "But we need revenue to be competitive with other states that have casinos. And this is an opportunity. The governor has given us ability to run with the ball."
Or, at the very least, be his lead blocker.
Because, the truth is, for all of Christie's tough talk and Drazin's willingness to back it up, this is still Jersey: Nothing happens without a fight. (I say that with love and pride -- and as someone who shared bar space with Snooki the night before I sadly moved out of the state last summer.) Currently, regulations regarding sports betting in the state have been drafted and are going through a public comment period, in which people can weigh in with dissenting opinions until August 31. If there are no comments -- meaning there is no need to re-examine the regulations and then repost them, giving people another commenting period -- the earliest Drazin could have a sports book running would be November 1.
"The plan would be to take out our license and open up for business," he says. Drazin, who has a space at the track already picked out for his sports book, expects it to cost Monmouth about a million bucks to get up and running. But, he adds, "We expect a court battle before we ever get that far."
A few years ago, Delaware, which allowed parlay-style betting on the NFL for one season in the mid-1970s, reintroduced sports betting. State lawmakers wanted the full buffet of Vegas-style side bets. But the major sports leagues and the NCAA fought it, nearly until the start of the NFL season. That's when a federal court scaled back Delaware's ambitious plan, saying the state could not offer a style of betting any different than what it had prior to PASPA. New Jersey offers more fertile betting ground, and one with more than a few professional franchises.
"We'd love it if everyone ignored us," says Drazin. "But that is unlikely."
Believe it or not, that is good news, because what happens over the next few months will be the tipping point for the future of sports betting. There will be injunctions to stop Monmouth Park. There will be arguments in court about the legality of PASPA. There will be judges handing down opinions (and appeals no matter who wins). But, eventually, there will be action.
And that's all every bettor wants. </offer>
