I've been asked about Sinatra and if he played a lot in the casino and if he was a “good” gambler? Was he serious or play for fun? Have a lucky table or favorite dealer? Did he have private game in his suite?

Frank was a good player in the casino. He played a lot of 21. He knew the game well and played it well. Whether he was serious or not depended on his mood and interests at the time. The key is being able to read him and they handle it well. I’ve written before about how I handled him. Most of the time it always goes well. I have also written about when I screwed up!

Most of the time Frank was a pleasure to deal with. In the casino he was in my area of expertise and he would listen and even ask me things. If he was with some other people, which was most of the time, he acted like a host and made sure everyone has a good time.

He had favorite dealers for what he doing at the time. He knew who could handle guests well and who would treat them right. He would tend to play with the same dealer, usually because he knew the guy knows him and will stay out of his way. Meaning if he ain’t talking, then don’t talk to him; if he is talking, then make sure you talk with him.

I had not seen Frank deal 21 at the Sands. I know you hear a lot about that he did. And he may have. I never saw it. I did seen him deal Barracat. I have never seen him play craps. I don’t think he knew how to play it. He would never mention that, but I don’t think he knew it well at all. He tended not to do things that he wasn’t good at.

No, Frank did not have private games in his place at the back of the Sands.

The single biggest problem in handling Frank Sinatra in the casino is making sure whoever deals to him, knows what they are doing. He would put up with a mistake or two but never, never would tolerate incompetence.

We at the Sands had the best of the best. But we also had some rank imbeciles sent to us by some connected people in New York. So we had to take them.

One day, late at night, Frank walks out of the lounge, toward the 21 pit and I know he is going to lite. A lot of dead tables and you can imagine who he sits down with. I come rushing over, but the imbecile has already started dealing the cards. The cards are flying all over the place. This guy can’t deal to begin with and with Frank Sinatra in front of him he is scared shitless. Frank is trying to be nice. Says to the dealer, “Relax, I’m not going to bite you.” The dealer is still sending cards all over. Frank: “Hey, I’m right here in from to you.” The dealer can’t handle it. Freezes up and can’t talk. Frank says to me, “Get him out of here. What are we doing with this guy? Are we paying him, if so get rid of him.”

I reply, “We can’t,” and whisper in his ear, why we can’t. He laughs. “Tell them moustaches in New York, we’re trying to run a business out here.” I suggest to him that he tell them.

He laughs again, “Hey, kiddo, I just sing here. You handle them bums.”