Chapter 3; pages 49-50

Even with the bright red burn I still showed up at the office, worked with the sales staff and went to my regular meetings with both Shaun and Claude. Shaun had a human side and seemed generally concerned that I was in pain but would also have a good laugh with the sales team at my expense. Claude on the other hand it was business as usual although in our first meeting back he gave me a furrowed brow incredulous look as to wonder if I knew what sun block was? That was the only emotional look I ever saw from Claude that first trip outside of ear to ear smiles he got looking at the number of sign ups posted on the chalk board inside the sales office. After that look it was back to the usual stoicism. The upcoming week everyone’s eyes would pop out staring at me or they would grab a pair of sun glasses to deflect the glow of my burnt red glowing skin. Other than the one look, Claude never really let on that he was remotely human directly towards me during our first encounter in Costa Rica. But then again that was the type of guy Claude was, very closed to most people, private, but he let everyone know that he was “The Man” with his entourage of gun toting security guards in suits surrounding him at all times or just outside of his door. And he was the man, when he walked down the hall, everyone got out of his way. When he spoke everyone would shut up and listen. When I made suggestions pertaining to advertising he would never flinch or agree just remain silent with an occasional disagreement. His silence told me I was right.

The first year NASA was my client they paid me about $8500 in cash and the other $8500 they put on a betting account. When I tried to withdraw the account money which was my money Shaun tells me I have to get approval from Claude. I ask Claude for money and he tells me that I have to deal with Shaun. After a minor run around I re-address my need to get paid and Shaun responds by telling me I have to play it many times over before I withdraw because they want an opportunity to win it back. I should have demanded the money but my eyes were on the big picture and big money in 2001 since I know I impressed them with my work in 2000. My mistake because once money goes into a BOS it just doesn’t find its way out other than the form of untraceable gold bars. I tried one more time while back in California to withdraw the money and the payouts department tells me I have to speak with Shaun and he did a good job of avoiding my calls. I would end up losing all of the money because it was available and once I start to gamble it’s an ego thing, I have to win and won’t quit till I win. The result was the usual.

I can’t count how many times Claude or Shaun would cynically laugh about a customer expecting a payout with “What’s a payout?” This was a joke that resonated throughout BOS from the sales room to the customer service room. They paid most people but would periodically get on the phone trying to negotiate with big winners to taking less of a payout and keeping money in their accounts. Allegedly sometimes the negotiations were not without conditions that the customer take some but not all or BOS will just keep all. This was amazing since the company was pulling in loads of cash every single day.

Towards the end of September I was ready to return to Los Angeles for the remainder of the football season. I had accomplished what I set out to do at BOS and then some. I got to know plenty of the personal first hand which was unique considering most agencies that solicited to the online gaming industry at the time would restrict their relationship to the phone and email. I impressed Mr. Ripner by cleaning up the advertising messes and going beyond the call of responsibility and providing exceptional information with legal interpretations to break down a barrier of acceptance with the state of Florida. I befriended the right people that would insure better tracking methods. I also got a nice sun tan that would make Southern Californians envious and made a few bucks along the way. Last but not least I briefly met a short overweight gentleman with a strange southern-like drawl who was paying his dues sitting at a desk on the 6th floor with the wager clerks from Jaguar, much like what I was doing in the 10th floor sales office. The young fellow would be laying the groundwork for one of the best offshore sports book operations of 2001 and thereafter, Mr. Chuck Bauer. I don’t remember meeting Chuck on that trip but he remembered me and that says a lot about the guy. He is great with people.


*MacGyver, Richard Dean Anderson is probably best known as MacGyver, the clever and inventive nonviolent hero who solved problems in his own unique way for seven successful seasons on ABC. Not only could MacGyver invest a non-violent bomb out of string and bubble gum to escape his captors but was the heart throb for Marge Simpson’s chain cigarette smoking sisters, Patty and Selma.

Chapter 3; pages 46-48

After sitting around and drinking for a few hours I decided to take a walk down the road to a grocery mart that we passed in the night to see if I could get a couple of postcards. Manuel Antonio is a hot place of about 85 degrees which is perfect climate for the howler monkeys and iguanas that were up swinging and hanging out in the trees, respectively. Meanwhile I was sweating in the heat and humidity on my walk down the road of Manual Antonio that morning. I purchased the postcards at the grocery mart and asked the clerk jokingly if there were any postal boxes out here in the middle of nowhere. To my surprise the clerk gave me directions about a couple hundred meters away where there in the middle of the jungle sat a weather beaten wooden postal box.

Upon returning back to the hotel Tom and I packed up our beach gear and headed on down to the ocean. It was a downhill walk of about a mile and there was fun to be had. I wanted to check out the wild animal park, catch some rays, and play in the warm pacific blue ocean. Meanwhile, DD took off in a cab to Quepos where she purchased some sun block-4 and more Imperial Beer. Now Tom and DD had been in Costa Rica for some time and this was not their first trip to Manuel Antonio. Both of their skin tones are darker than mine and sunblock-4 is not quite enough they say for me. I have no fear I have gotten sun burns before and none of them really hurt but then again I was never as close as 500 miles from the equator in September when the sun was extremely intense.

We spent hours on the beach, laying out in the sun, drinking, and my favorite beach time recreation of body surfing. I love the feel of heading out about a two hundred yards as the waters descended only a couple of degrees to the point where I could barely see the shore while on my tip toes at about 6 feet of water and jumping up and down with each wave waiting to catch a big one. And I would do this for hours in the warmth of the Central American Pacific waters catching wave after wave, having a great time in the surf without a care in the world. I find peace at these moments and that is one of the reasons I moved the extra mile inland to live right on the beach when I returned to Redondo Beach, California.

The beaches of Costa Rica are beautiful. The jungle comes right up to the ocean and you can see the howler monkeys staying cool in the mid day shade while out in the surf. The sand is very flat, not fluffy probably from the steady rains that come every night. A few thatched roofed huts line the beach along with some outdoor beach bars, souvenir vendors, and restaurants constructed out of basic materials that would consist of a few 2x4’s, some plywood, and thatched roofs. A far reach from the metropolitan beach fronts along the California coastline that I am accustomed to with million dollar homes, huge harbors full of large yachts, and restaurants with strict building codes. It hit me while in the surf that I was in a relaxed world that was far from my modest upbringing.

We spent hours on the beach and a few more hours sitting at a seaside café on plastic chairs while smoking some wacky tobacco, gulping beers, having a few laughs and playing with a stray lost puppy. We got our fill of fun before deciding to head back up the hill for dinner. The walk up the hill was not nearly as pleasant as the walk down to the beach. The upgrade of the hill slope to the hotels is brutal.
We had a nice early dinner with delicious fresh seafood and plenty of alcohol amongst the howler monkeys and iguanas overlooking the jungle which was considerably more scenic than the night before in Quepos. Unfortunately the nightlife in Manuel Antonio wasn’t quite heated up during the rainy season of September. So the night concluded back at the hotel on the balcony much like the way it started just relaxing in the moment. After the intensity in the BOS sales office it was enjoyable to catch a little bit of peace and serenity in the jungle while indulging in alcohol and smoke.

The next day we would return to San Jose. En route to the bus stop that morning we stopped off in Quepos for breakfast. We all had our dosage of beach as we were all burnt out and a little food and drink was just what the doctor ordered before jumping back on the bus. We ate that morning in a seaside café in Quepos. The food in Quepos never disappoints me and the bathrooms certainly humored me. In order to save on plumbing costs neither bathroom has a sink to wash your hands but there is a communal sink on the exterior between the men’s and women’s bathrooms. Also the doors to enter into the bathrooms I believe were constructed by African pygmies. Very short people would have no problems with these low riding doors as even DD had to duck her head to get into the bathroom and at 6’4” in height I had to do a forced limbo.

That was the typical trip for the salesman at BOS. You didn’t make enough money to buy an air ticket and you could never get more than one day off a week so it was out after work, have a great night and a full day of fun, sun, and surf followed up by another great night surrounded by as much wicked indulgences as humanly possible before heading back to the big city of San Jose for the daily grind of taking calls from anxious gamblers.

By the time I got back I started to notice the glowing red of my skin. I was burnt real good. I never understood how strong the sun was till the next day in the office. I sat around the office in sheer pain while the cleaning ladies were all gathered around me a couple of times per day vacuuming up the sheets of dead burnt skin that was shedding right off my body. Luckily only two guys in the office were big enough to mess with my burn, and George had some pity for my condition but Tom was a different story. As much of a prankster as Tom was the sad truth was he was often too drunk even in the office to realize he was slapping me on the back or placing his hand or arm around my shoulder like a good buddy. Tom was a great buddy but a third degree sun burn is no time to have your back slapping buddy around even with the most neighborly of intentions.

Chapter 3; Pages 43-46

Chapter 3

The Lobster


The highlights and lowlights of my first trip to Costa Rica occurred outside of the NASA offices. Tom, DD and I took off to a place called Manuel Antonio on the Pacific Ocean. Manuel Antonio is just outside of a small town called Quepos on the west coast of Costa Rica and hidden along the hillsides with majestic views of the jungle bordering a thin strip of beach with giant rock island formations about a quarter of a mile out. The three of us ventured off one evening after work. Tom loaded up with a couple bags of potato chips, two bottles of Guaro which is the equivalent of the American farmer’s corn liquor with a brutal taste, chest burning after taste and label on par with Mad Dog 20/20. In layman’s terms, its bum’s liquor, along with a couple six packs of Imperial Beer, the local brew. The three of us then ventured through the dirty seedy areas of downtown San Jose en route to the bus stop where we were getting ready for a 4 hour trip through the mountains and down into the west coast of Costa Rica which is 20 minutes by flight but the BOS workers just were not paid enough to afford air travel.

The three of us boarded the bus, taking the back seats where we patiently consumed beer as Tom had already chugged the Guaro before we could get on the bus. We were patient because there were no stops along the way to drain the bladder. About two hours into the trip I look over and notice Tom has downed all the beer and cannot wait any longer so he quickly ate all the potato chips than in MacGyver* like fashion used the potato chip bag as his own personal potty. Disgustingly he sprayed the rest of us inside the bus with the wind blowing his make shift potty back into the bus. That was about as unpleasant as the trip would get and really scar me on bus travel in Costa Rica. Luckily we traveled by night and I was unable to see the rickety old bridge with alligators or crocodiles hanging out below. I am not sure exactly about the differences between the two but they were big lizards in the daylight. The bridge was literally big enough to have about 3 inches of grace room on each side of the bridge before it was time to test oneself in a speed swimming contest against a gator.

We arrived in Quepos at nightfall. It is a dirty little Central American town bordered by the incredibly beautiful Manuel Antonio. We spent three hours on the bus and decided to do the last two miles on foot while sharing some wacky Costa Rican grown tobacco as we ventured through the jungle en route to our hotel up in the hills while carrying our daypacks. The night was very clear as if it had just rained and thousands of stars shown in the night through the jungle trees on the single road up to Manuel Antonio. While walking under the moonlight I never thought I would see a giant satellite dish in the middle of the jungle big enough to engulf a couple of Hummer sports utility vehicles. The whacky tobacco was certainly making me question my own vision. This was my first time in a jungle and I fell in love with it from the get go. I thought it would be really nice to see during the daylight and see what was howling and chirping.

After checking into the hotel we quickly unpacked and were ready to appease our growling stomachs. Dinner the first night was spent in Quepos where we wanted to parlay the evening with the nightlife at the nightclub inside the Holiday Inn where music could be heard blasting from blocks away and social beverages were undoubtedly flowing freely. We took a cab into Quepos and once I got out of the cab I had to step over a poor fellow who looked like Oscar the Grouch from Sesame Street with a full grizzly beard and hair covering just about the rest of his body was taking a nap/passed out next to the gutter. I had to do a double take at the grizzled fellow and realized he was wearing a natural sweater of human hair. Then I had to walk across a wooden plank over the gutter as turds and piss flowed by below, not exactly the ambiance you want for a mouth watering dinner. The picture on the outside of the restaurant would never be confused with elegant or even a 2-star restaurant but the food inside was delicious and the American dollar was quite strong back in 2000 before the US dollar began to decline. The entertainment was none other than good old porn on television. Was I in romantic Paris? No this was just a simple town lost on the Pacific Coast of Costa Rica that catered to the poor man’s budget. The entrée for the evening consisted of pollo (chicken) and fresh seafood accompanied by bottle after bottle of beer for 250 colones (Costa Rican currency) which was than the equivalent of about $.75 US. Later that night I spoiled myself spending about 500 colones for Coronas with loud music, dancing and socializing with the party friendly beach dwellers at the Holiday Inn. The only thing I didn’t like was all the beautiful, friendly girls in this beach community that teased my manhood to the point of frustration.

I often enjoyed the nightlife throughout my first trip to Costa Rica. And there was a lot of nightlife to be had. There were plenty of bars, nightclubs, strip bars, and the more popular tourist medical bars. The medical bars where unique where every girl in the place was ready to give you a sample of Costa Rican health care/hospitality by checking out your balls with a firm squeeze followed by some Spanish. Since I am not completely fluent in Spanish I assumed the girls were saying “Turn your head to the left and cough”, just like doctor's do back home when getting a physical. The one thing I didn’t do was take advantage of these natural pleasure resources staying true to my girlfriend back in Los Angeles. So that night in Quepos was generally a night full of cheap beer and cheap laughs with a pending hangover to commence.


Upon returning to the hotel I tried to sleep out on the balcony as the full moon shine down on the Pacific Ocean from our hotel room a couple hundred feet above the ocean surface. The hotel view at night was beautiful. I wanted to soak it all up by sleeping out on the patio in the hammock. After a nightcap and a smoke with Tom and DD, I lay down to rest in the company of the hordes of flying bugs that also seemed to enjoy the views of Manuel Antonio. After about maybe an hour of trying to sleep with buzzing going on in my ears and consistently slapping myself in a not so pleasing manner to ward off the bugs I retreated to the safety of the hotel room and crashed on the couch as Tom and DD occupied the bedroom of our suite. As I looked up at the ceiling of the darkened hotel room listening to absolute peace and quiet with the exception of a few chirping crickets and an occasional restless howler monkey, I smiled to myself knowing I was going to be in for a pleasant nights rest.

Waking up the next morning a hangover would have been justified but the beauty of Manuel Antonio was breath taking that morning offsetting anything that could be construed as throbbing cranial pain. Not to mention we were out very late and never settled in long enough for a hangover. I sparked up with Tom on the balcony while gazing out across the awe inspiring views of the Pacific blue ocean under equally clear blue skies with not a cloud in sight. The morning was perfect. I took a moderately cool shower that was offset by the intense heat that I could feel inside the open air hotel room. Then, I adjourned to the balcony with the sun crashing down against my pale off-white California skin for some much needed breakfast compliments of DD. She cooked up a healthy combination of eggs, toast, and sausage while Tom rolled joints and I mixed bloody marys and screwdrivers. The simplest breakfast was enhanced greatly by the drink and Mother Nature at her best blasting her warm rays of sunshine down on us along the hillsides of the Costa Rican Pacific coastline while the parrots and howler monkeys gawked and screeched respectively.

Chapter Two; pages 39-41

Along with the bonus program BOS really enjoyed littering mailboxes across the country with obnoxious mailers. Usually every sales representative would get a handful of calls every week where the prospective gambler or the girlfriend/wife parent of the prospective gambler would request that they be taken off of the mailer list. The first time I got one of these calls I was told to ignore it and Claude was in earshot of me when I mentioned this and said, “take down their name and address and I will make sure to increase the mailers”. This was the running joke that was taken seriously in the sales office where complaints over mailers were strictly ignored. It’s not too surprising when one of the charges against BOS and Mr. Ripner is abuse of the US postal service. It’s unfortunate but there are business owners that do not always know advertising laws, that’s why large companies should and normally do utilize professional advertising agencies or professionals from agencies.

The online gaming industry has primarily promoted within putting people in charge of advertising with no professional background in advertising that are unaware of advertising laws. This is apparent still with many companies using the likeness of professional athletes, professional sports team logos, etc. in their advertising. These are more infractions against the online gaming industry that are widespread where the US government could start cracking down on companies with regularity and both athletes and organizations would have the right to take civil action against these companies. The other day I saw one of the most despicable online gaming advertisements with the using the likeness of the recently deceased Pat Tillman of the Arizona Cardinals of the NFL and the Army Rangers who perished in Afghanistan.
As for the complaints from people about mailers, once a person says they do not want to be bothered whether via telephone or the mail the business must stop otherwise it constitutes harassment and there are penalties for this. I was aware of this and assumed Mr. Ripner knew about it also.

Ironically the two things that Claude rejected during my time with BOS were the RV luxury coaches and the taxes. Eventually he would utilize the RVs but somehow the concept got whored by greed. Allegedly monitors were used in the mobile vehicles to sign up new customers when it was just supposed to be used as an advertising tool where consumers could make up their own decisions in the privacy of their own home. The use of computers on board to sign up customers became gambling paraphernalia which cannot be transported across state lines. An overzealous employee ended up signing up and undercover law enforcement officer on the spot in what could have been construed as a set up but the fact is BOS had some problems controlling illicit activity by some employees. As the owner the responsibility falls on Claude and his Cousin Shaun didn’t help matters by drumming up laughter about illicit behavior provoking employees to be bad little representatives in public. I assume these are some of the multiple charges that he has to answer to the federal prosecutors.
Whether these are infractions of Claude or his employees I don’t know but as a business owner he has to answer to the illicit actions.

Claude didn't think he ever had to take responsibility for any actions done by representatives of BOS. Hypocritically he felt any other business owner was responsible for their employee’s mistakes. He was the guy that would work someone to death for a few bucks and I wouldn’t be surprised if he docked them pay for failing to meet a dress code or anything petty that he could find. He would eventually fine me with some costs for hiring mistakes of mine. I had no problem with that. I just had a problem when he wasn’t consistent and followed his own rules. He liked to change the rules for his benefit.

As an industry leader it’s the responsibility of that leader to set the benchmark for all others, otherwise you will not be a leader for long. In regards to taxes Claude would have nothing to do with it. I know he made millions from his business but he could have saved his free-behind by easing up on the greed and sharing the wealth. Claude didn’t like to share the wealth. Even if he didn’t like sharing the wealth he could have passed the tax dollars off onto the customers by limiting and eliminating bonuses. It might not have been a great short term idea but in the long run where would a customer rather play with? A company that is endorsed by the US government where taxes or contributions are being paid or with a company that is offering a 60% sign up bonus which in small print states to achieve that bonus you have to refer two friends, have a minimum sign up, and lose a certain amount that you will get back at the end of the football season. As a gambler I don’t think about losing. Also as a consumer I hate small print and stipulations, it reeks of double talk.

So no taxes; Claude would not pay any government and he would also shortchange everyone from the telephone man to the customer that won too much. Anything he could keep he kept. It was amazing the amount of dollars I was able to persuade out of him for his radio campaigns but then again that had a hidden “Charlie Victory” self imposed discount on the end which was the classic Ripner shortchanging based on renegotiating and the threat of default on payment.

Claude spent a lot of money but he was also irrationally cheap at times that made no sense. An example of Claude’s irrational penny pinching was evident with his PBX telephone systems. He would buy used PBX boxes for half the price and it showed on game day when the calls were coming in from gamblers and new sign-ups the system would often overload and break down. BOS was truly a factory with all its advertising to get people to send in money. Despite having a sizable staff of customer service people they were expected to weed out the scammers as opposed to take care of the customer. Customer retention was below average for the industry by comparison for other online gaming companies I have represented over the years.
Shaun was also a pain in the ass when it came to penny pinching. I am not sure if it was ordered from above but he would make sales guys and customer service bring in your own pens or pencils as he wanted to eliminate extra office expenses. If you didn’t have one than you had to go to supplies and sign for a $.10 Bic pen and return it at the end of the day. He also would bitch about recycling paper and check to make sure potentially useful paper with one clear side on it was not thrown in the garbage. The recycling is great but checking the garbage cans was overboard. All of my reports were printed out on the backside of re-used sign-up sheets and other reusable documents. This was certainly an oddity when going down to the VIP room which doubled as the board room. I was surprised I never gave a report and then rambled right into an individual customers deposit amount accidentally. It was also amazing that I was able to stay so organized; although I did accidentally take out a list of about 4000 gamblers which I have held onto to this day.




*Television character from 1970’s sitcom, “Three’s Company” played by Don Knotts and known for his outlandish mismatched wardrobe and lack of style.

Chapter Two; pages 35-38

Identifying the problem was advertising 101 and easy for me since I concentrated on advertising as a profession. The spots were horrible and not appropriate. The voice on the radio spot in my opinion was very dry, sorry Lee Klein (XTRA Sports 1150 Los Angeles). The ad copy was written with the intent to sell how trustworthy BOS was with their Lloyd’s of London insurance policies on each account, which was non-existent. The spots were also not appropriate as a nighttime sports talk show host in Los Angeles was doing spots on the San Diego station. At the time San Diego’s XTRA Sports 690 was the king of local radio on the west coast. It was created by media legend Chet Forte of ABC Sports and Monday Night Football and also is the station that launched the career of the top sports talk show host for what seems forever, Jim Rome. More people listened to the San Diego station with its booming 70,000 watt antenna on the hillside of Tijuana that reached the great northwest on a clear night. So having Lee Klein as the voice of the commercial made no sense. Our first choice to replace him was Arnie Spandier; although Arnie was from the Los Angeles station he was a very excitable person and spoke passionately about sports betting. Unfortunately Arnie’s services were already locked up by my good friend Robert Elkman in the San Fernando Valley just north of Los Angeles for Jaguar Sports which was cleaning up with hundreds of new accounts from radio.

The creative was non-existent in the radio commercials also. Claude had no clue on radio advertising he wanted to sell facts and figures on the air which I confirmed with the representing agency. I was convinced the spots just needed some excitement to entice the audience to call in or log onto the internet at BOS to find out about betting on a game. My analogy would prove to be correct and the pending changes made radio very successful. Claude once said if he could he would say gamble, bet, gamble, bet, wager, 888-999-BETS, and 888-999-BETS for the entire 60 second commercial if he could. After 10 seconds of that I am sure the audience would be getting a headache and turning the channel; If not 10 seconds then 30 seconds of it for sure.

I immediately restructured the radio advertising. I flew back to Los Angeles for a few days and hired a couple of enthusiastic voices and wrote a script with a couple of unknowns using a male/female dialog. I pushed a combination of humor from an excitable male voice, thank you Scott Hensley and the sultry voice of Brandy Carter. Anyways their enthusiasm was a huge hit and calls started flooding in after I put them on the air. Furthermore I adjusted the scheduling of the media to focus more on the days leading up to games as opposed to spreading out the advertising throughout the week. Weekends were also a poor time to advertise because gamblers were watching the games and not paying attention to radio unless it was a game and in-game advertising was nearly impossible to attain with NCAA and NFL contracts.

Despite the great results down the stretch Claude used the poor start as reason to not pay and release the media firm out of Cincinnati for failing to get results despite having an agreement to represent BOS. I recall Claude blasting the owner and account executive over the phone one day, then hanging up saying he wanted to put them out of business. Sometimes Claude’s expectations combined with ire got the best of him and he said things he probably should have kept to himself. That Cincinnati firm was also the bearer of bad news for defaulted payment on two great guys, David Kent of XTRA – Sports 690 in San Diego and Richard Walsh of XTRA – Sports 1150 in Los Angeles. Both guys lost their commissions and I would have to smooth them over the following year just to get back on the air. I maintained contact with the Cincinnati firm’s account executive, former NFL lineman named Joe on problems that BOS was having because it was professional courtesy; they were the agency of record and I just happened to be there in Costa Rica and was requested to clean up the mess which I assume was dictated by Claude. A couple of times I gave Joe a heads up call to let him know about problems before either Claude or Shaun got the urge to call him up and yell at him. Shaun was a real ass about that. Joe was about 6’7” and 300lbs of professional athlete that was just working on a post NFL career and Shaun had little man’s disease getting a rise out of making fun of him.

Joe still owes me a beer for those heads up calls. I am not one to steal an account or step on ones toes but at this point I was the leading candidate for landing the now open BOS account. In this case I never solicited the account and never received any commissions off of improving the radio advertising in 2000. The work was a courtesy.

One of the biggest keys to electronic advertising in the online gaming industry happened in 2000, because of the emergence of radio for BOS. The strong results came through once I cleaned up the radio. This success provoked Claude’s desire to be on sports talk radio in Miami. I immediately contacted WQAM Sports Radio in Miami and sales representative Todd Greck; he informed me that although he would love to take the advertising he couldn’t due to assumed prohibition of online gaming advertising in the state of Florida. I did some extensive research and discovered a Supreme Court Case where online gaming could benefit. The 1998 New Orleans Broadcaster’s Association vs. the United States case on gaming focused on the Central Hudson Test which stated if the business is licensed where the operation and transactions are taking place than people in the US regardless of state laws on gambling had the right to hear about the business. In this case the folks of South Carolina had the right to hear about gambling in the state of Louisiana despite local South Carolina law that forbade gambling. I would use this Supreme Court interpretation to support executives' decisions to accept online gaming advertising business in a lot of states during the upcoming years. I also used a copy of this for many prospecting calls down on the island of Curacao that January. Companies that I contacted before the 2001 ad season jumped right on board the radio bandwagon with the information I provided about the Supreme Court case on gaming and the precedence with WQAM – Miami. Florida became a hot market with most of the industry’s executives flying back and forth to the states on American Airlines through Miami and it didn't hurt that three major college football powerhouses resided in the state along with three NFL teams. When Claude was not in Costa Rica chances are he used one of his alleged fake passports to visit his doctor in Miami due to physical ailments.

During one of my in person meetings with Mr. Ripner in 2000, I found out what a sore spot is for him. Taxes! I came to him with new ideas including consolidation of companies for advertising purposes to increase the power of the dollar when locking up advertising. The proposed creative usage of excitement and humor to get the consumer response rates up. I pushed the use of celebrity personalities to promote his product. I suggested the use of large recreational luxury coaches as billboards with attractive young people to pass out t-shirts, key chains and other memorabilia to brand the BOS name. Claude didn’t say anything about the consolidation he just listened, he just listened when it came to the creative differentiation, he was against the use of the luxury coaches and supporting other people’s party habits at tail gate events and chewed me out of the office on taxes and establishing relations with government officials and charities. He was emphatic toward me about giving nothing back as his bonus programs were enough. I didn’t know it at the time but turns out he had a heart when it came to charities which Mrs. Ripner was probably more responsible for.

Taxes or contributions to programs in the country (USA) where a majority of his business came from was in my opinion essential for long term relations. Take too much money and the government will notice and they can put up obstacles to make it difficult to do business. Keep overcoming those obstacles and they can change laws that will lock you out. Tell the government how to do their business and some of the most powerful men in the world (US politicians) will start signing off on arrest warrants. So working with US politicians was the route I advocated. It wasn’t to Claude’s liking. I only brought it up twice and both times I could barely get past the words of taxes and working with politicians before Claude would erupt and send me away. He hated that idea!

The bonus programs were for new gamblers to get anywhere from 10-20% bonus on top of their initial sign up; if a gambler posted up $500 on his account he would get an additional $50-100 depending upon his bonus agreement with the sales representative. When a customer would run out of money and not bet for a while sales representatives would call the prospective gambler and entice him with bonuses to refill their accounts. It really wasn’t much of a freebie since there were stipulations to keeping the bonus to keep “bonus whores” from conning the online gaming companies; The stipulations where players had to play their deposit anywhere from 3x to 5x over before being allowed to withdraw funds. It was fair but not really any form of charity or giving back to communities that supported BOS with their patronage.