On an unseasonably warm March afternoon, a dozen jai alai players spend their 10th day on an informational picket line outside the Dania fronton. Among those toting neon-colored "Save Our Sport" posterboard signs are Jose Ramon Oyarbide and Pedro M. "Iru" Irusta, two Basques from the region of Spain that gave the sport its birth.

Their immediate concern isn't the fading attendance and stagnant wagering that have put jai alai frontons and other pari-mutuel venues -- dog, thoroughbred and harness tracks -- in a steady decline this decade.

Instead, the players are most worried about precisely the measure that is supposed to save them: By July 1, the state should finish the regulations that will open the pari-mutuels in Broward to 6,000 Vegas-style slot machines, the first such legal machines in Florida. The high-revenue slots may boost profits for the frontons and tracks, but it may kill the jai alai players' sport and livelihood in the process, says Oyarbide: "That's our fear."

The introduction of slots is disrupting not just jai alai, but the entire gambling landscape in the state. And limits are rising in what's already a high-stakes industry. Consider: Gambling in Florida from the lottery, pari-mutuels and tribes alone amounts to $5.8 billion, or $335 per capita for all Floridians. Wagering in less-tracked venues pushes the handle higher. Large gambling vessels, for instance, run $20 million to $25 million in annual casino revenue. There are at least 600 bingo sites in Florida and 200 adult arcades -- Chuck E. Cheeses for seniors where prizes can be retailer debit cards.

The introduction of slots is expected to add $450 million to the Florida handle in their first full year of operation.

The upheaval that's now playing out -- the first major change in Florida's gambling landscape in two decades -- began in 2004, when Florida voters by a margin of 1.66 percentage points allowed Miami-Dade and Broward to decide whether their frontons and tracks could operate Vegas slots while sharing tax revenue statewide. In the referenda that followed, with Gov. Jeb Bush arguing against slots, Miami-Dade rejected the machines, while Broward approved.

Some of the fallout from Broward's vote is predictable and immediate. Federal law requires that Indian tribes be able to offer any forms of gambling that are legal in the state, so the tribes will be able to upgrade to Vegas slots at their casinos in Miami-Dade, Broward, Hillsborough, Collier and Glades.

Other implications of the Broward vote, however, are unclear -- including how far and how fast gambling will expand elsewhere in Florida.

Part of the answer will depend on voters. Next year, for example, the pari-mutuels again will ask Miami-Dade voters to approve Vegas slots. Ken Dunn, president of Miami Gardens' 220-acre Calder Race Course, owned by publicly held Louisville-based Churchill Downs, says Miami-Dade voters "will see the jobs created in Broward" and Miami-Dade residents spending money in Broward and approve slots.

"It's a competitive disadvantage to other areas close by" to be without slots, adds Fredric Gushin, managing director of international consulting firm Spectrum Gaming Group in Atlantic City, N.J.

How many more dominos fall depends on the Legislature and on lobbying and infighting among the betting houses that's already begun to play out, as each seeks to influence laws and regulations to protect itself from competition.

There's plenty of gamesmanship afoot. Orlando lawyer Bill Sublette, a former legislator who chairs the anti-gambling group No Casinos, counts scores of lobbyists working for industry interests, operators and vendors. "The only thing I've ever seen like it was the heyday of the tobacco industry when they had every high-powered lobbyist in Tallahassee on the payroll," he says.

Gambling industry types were out in force in March in Hollywood for a state workshop on slot regulation. The state's pari-mutuel wagering division has angered the industry by, among other things, proposing to ban facilities from giving away hotel rooms and gifts to gamblers. Pari-mutuel owners already chafe over the 50% tax rate on slots and other fees. Combined with promised payments to the pari-mutuels' hometowns and horse breeders, the taxes and fees mean 60% of slot revenue leaves the house. Allan B. Solomon, executive vice president and general counsel of Isle of Capri Casinos, says that's higher than in any of the company's other markets.

But as he stands outside the meeting room, Solomon has the air of a gambler whose bet is about to pay off. Isle, one of the four Broward pari-mutuel owners, spent $5 million on the 2004-05 slots campaign. The Biloxi-based 15-casino, $1.1-billion revenue company positioned itself for casino gambling in Florida with its 1995 purchase of the 223-acre Pompano Park Harness Track in Broward for $8 million. Pompano's most recent annual pari-mutuel commissions were down slightly. But now general manager Dick Feinberg stands on the 42-year-old grandstand and overlooks the construction site for a $125-million, 157,000-sq.-ft. slots and restaurants building. A hotel may come later. Just off I-95, Pompano will share the north Broward and Palm Beach slots market with only Seminole Coconut Creek Casino -- also undergoing expansion nearby.

"This is going to be huge to us," Feinberg says. Indeed, Isle has raised its bet, loaning $5 million to Florida Gaming Corp., owner of jai alai in Miami and Fort Pierce, for the exclusive right to negotiate to buy the Miami jai alai fronton if Miami-Dade voters approve slots next year.

Of the other three Broward pari-mutuels, Mardi Gras Racetrack, formerly known as Hollywood Greyhound, plans to house its 1,500 slots in an existing building. (The maximum allowed under the new law is 1,500 per facility, but the industry plans to fight for more.) Gulfstream Park, a thoroughbred track in Hallandale Beach purchased in 1999 by $625-million revenue Ontario-based Magna Entertainment, owner of Santa Anita and Pimlico, plans to house its 1,500 slots in an expanded and renovated facility. It has joined with Cleveland developer Forest City Enterprises on a more than $1-billion, 1,500-home, retail, office and hotel project to begin this year on the Gulfstream grounds.

The fourth pari-mutuel, Dania Jai Alai, hasn't decided its plans, says assistant general manager Marty Fleischman. That worries jai alai players. Irusta says slots were supposed to save jai alai in Rhode Island, but then the operator agreed to give the state a higher cut of revenue in exchange for permission to kill jai alai.

The rules

Gambling is regulated in Florida by a thicket of laws and rules, many drawn not to protect the public but pushed by one industry segment seeking a competitive advantage. For example, the biggest barrier to entry for new pari-mutuels is a law that prohibits new tracks and frontons within 50 to 100 miles of existing operators, depending on the type of pari-mutuel.

Some pari-mutuels now complain about yesteryear's rules against innovations such as telephone wagering. "It's like being McDonald's and you can never (sell) a chicken sandwich. Other businesses can grow and change," complains W. Bennett Collett Jr., Florida Gaming president. Solomon, meanwhile, dismisses the idea that the pari-mutuel industry itself is behind the strictures. "Times have changed," Solomon says.

But don't tell that to Gale Fontaine, president of the Florida Arcade Association, the industry group for operators of prize machines for grown-ups. Fontaine holds a community service award from the Aging & Disability Resource Center in Broward. But a Thursday in March found the great-grandmother a defendant in a Broward courtroom. She faces five years in prison for allegedly running an illegal gambling house -- her arcades, where seniors drop coins in machines for a chance at points to earn debit cards and other prizes.

Fontaine, who canceled an interview for this article, complained to the South Florida Sun-Sentinel after her December arrest that the pari-mutuels pressured law enforcement to go after her. Fontaine and the association say their businesses were legalized by the 1984 "Chuck E. Cheese" exemption for game machines requiring an element of skill. Frank Mirabella, the association's Tallahassee lobbyist, expects legal vindication: If "it's good for Chuck E. Cheese, it's good for the senior arcades. It's the same law for everybody."

A matter of time?

While both opponents and supporters of gambling believe it will expand in Florida, there is no consensus on how far it will go.

The market's there for it. Florida will pass New York as the third-largest state by 2011. Florida's 50-and-older population will grow to 9.9 million in 2030 from 6.3 million now. Gambling cruises shuttle buses to retirement communities for a reason. Tourists are a bonus. The state's gambling market is "not anywhere near well supplied yet," says Jason Pawlina of research and analysis firm Christiansen Capital Advisors in New Gloucester, Maine.

Over time, the state almost certainly can expect pressure for slots from the 19 pari-mutuels outside Broward and Miami-Dade -- particularly those where wagering is anemic. "There's a number of them that have hung on that are hoping for it," says Florida pari-mutuel division director David Roberts. Five entities hold jai alai or track licenses for inactive operations. One operator, R. Glenn Richards, a Jacksonville-based developer, opened a pari-mutuel fronton, the first in 27 years, in a strategic spot near the Georgia border with hopes for slots ["Long-Term Bets," page 91].

State Rep. Randy Johnson, R-Celebration, the former No Casinos chair who's running for state chief financial officer, fears the state is on a fast track to becoming one big casino. "We're clearly one step away from the total statewide expansion of gambling in Florida. There's no question about that."

No Casinos still plans to fight to roll back the 2004 amendment for Miami-Dade, although "our coffers are pretty dry right now," Sublette says.

But statewide casino gambling has been predicted, erroneously, for years. And Johnson might be comforted by the thoughts of Solomon, the Isle executive, who says, "I wouldn't want to bet on" a statewide gambling expansion. Pawlina adds that even getting slots in all the pari-mutuels in the state in 10 years "would be a long shot. It was hard enough to get it going in Broward."
Florida has 16 dog tracks, three thoroughbred tracks, one harness track and six frontons. Hurricanes in 2004 canceled 2,484 races and games in Florida and an entire Fort Pierce jai alai season, but the industry's decline is longer term. The drop in dog racing and jai alai -- Florida's the only state left with live jai alai -- has been most pronounced. Things would look worse if not for the growth in simulcasting. Poker, whose revenue isn't included here, has helped the pari-mutuels. The number of poker tables in the state increased to 371 last year from 290 the year before.
The Seminole Tribe runs 6,895 machines at its six casinos, the largest of which are the Seminole Hard Rock hotels and casinos in Tampa and Hollywood. The six have a total of 170 poker tables. The Miccosukee casino has more than 1,000 machines and 58 poker tables. Florida's Indian gambling revenue is growing faster than Indian gambling nationally, posting a 34% increase from 2003, says Alan Meister, author of the "Indian Gaming Industry Report" and a Los Angeles-based economist with Analysis Group.

Lottery growth has slowed, and the lottery will face increased competition when Vegas slots come to Broward pari-mutuels, the Legislature's Office of Program Policy Analysis & Government Accountability reported in January. The state's Revenue Estimating Conference projects that the money available to turn over for education from the lottery could drop between $5.7 million and $17.6 million as a result of slots. The lottery is looking at how to increase lottery wagering. Slots tax revenue is to go to education.

The number of gambling vessels in Florida, the nation's largest market, is down to 13 from 23 a decade ago, says Day Cruise Association Executive Director Jean Walder. Boat owners struggle with depreciating assets, marine costs and limited gambling hours. The casino ship operator most directly affected by Vegas-style slots in Broward, Port Everglades-based SeaEscape Entertainment, is encouraged that the opening of the Seminole Hard Rock in 2004 didn't adversely affect operations. One reason is that SeaEscape has roulette and other table games the tribes lack, says legal affairs Vice President Judi Jarvis.

Numbers are not available for how much residents of each state spend on internet gambling. But Americans overall spent an estimated $6 billion a year gambling online in 2005, and dividing the $6 billion by Florida's share of the U.S. population would mean Floridians gambled about $357 million online in 2005.

Bingo is suffering. The Florida Charitable Bingo Association dissolved, says its former lobbyist, Frank Mirabella. At last count, there were 400 bingo halls run by just three veterans groups. Many other groups -- churches, fraternal clubs -- have bingo. There were another 100 to 125 "leased facilities," the sometimes controversial halls that let charities use their facilities, but often drew scrutiny for essentially being commercial operations that gave a sliver of revenue to the charities that nominally held the games.

Fighting legal battles to operate, there are 200 adult arcades in Florida, usually mom-and-pop operations and mostly in south Florida. Their association compiles no revenue data. However, the state Department of Revenue reports 47,435 "amusement machines" in Florida in 2004, from juke boxes to video games to kid and adult arcade games. All told, they had $158 million in revenue, or an average of $3,331 per machine. Adult arcades have to have at least 50 machines to operate. If the average applied to all machines at all 200 sites, it would be a $33-million industry.