Exclusive | Bookmaker Art Manteris dishes on sports betting in new book

In February 1990, world heavyweight champion Mike Tyson, boasting a record of 37 wins and no defeats, faced up against James ‘Buster’ Douglas in Tokyo, in what every boxing expert agreed would be another one-sided bout. 

Certainly, the bookies agreed. 

For those bookmakers who did offer odds, Tyson was a massive favorite — you had to bet $42 on him to win a single buck.

But the confidence was misplaced. 

Looking uncharacteristically sluggish, Tyson struggled against his unheralded opponent and in the 10th round, Douglas sent him sprawling to the canvas. 

Unable to beat the count, it would be Tyson’s first defeat and one that sent shockwaves through the sports world.

“We were all trying to figure out how in the world Tyson could lose,” writes retired gambling executive Art Manteris in “The Bookie: Inside the High-Stakes World of Sports Betting ― A Legendary Bookmaker’s Tale of Gangsters, Celebrities, and the Art of the Game’ (Dey Street).

While Tyson’s shock defeat was blamed on “poor preparation” by his promoter Don King, Manteris knew different. 

As a close friend of Dr. Elias Graham, the chairman of the Nevada Athletic Commission, he was told that Tyson has been taking heavy doses of prescription medication for a severe bout of gonorrhea, resulting in his lethargic performance and subsequent knockout.

“Douglas fought the fight of his life, and Mike fought the worst fight of his life, and got clobbered,” he told The Post. “It wasn’t until later that I learned of the medical challenges Mike was dealing with.”

This week, there was another reminder of the vexatious relationship between sports and gambling when federal prosecutors announced criminal charges on Thursday against more than a dozen former NCAA players who tried to fix games as recently as last season.

Manteris said that relationship is a neverending source of controversy and, inevitably, scandal.

“Sport and betting go hand in hand but they should be divorced, living separate lives,” he said. “I’ve long believed there must be a clear divide between gambling on sports, and participation in sports. My position hasn’t changed. The leagues have.”

Now most professional leagues are in bed with casinos and sportsbooks, making billions off ads and tie-ins.

With 40 years’ experience working in Nevada’s race and sports book industry, at Caesar’s Palace, Las Vegas Hilton and Station casinos, Manteris became one of the most influential figures in gambling and was even inducted into the Sports Betting Hall of Fame in 2019.

He often encountered the biggest stars in sport and showbusiness. 

When he first met pro golfer Phil Mickelson in the 1990s, for instance, he found a successful young man who liked to gamble but not to excess. “He’d walk up to the ticket counter to place his wagers, just like the average Joe looking to put thirty bucks on the Monday night football game,” writes Manteris. “He wasn’t betting the large amounts where bookmakers felt the need to limit his action.

“At least, not at first.”

But as Mickelson’s success on the PGA Tour grew, so too did his bets, which often ran into six figures. Then, when he entered into a syndicate with Wall Street investor Carl Icahn and Billy Walters, who, Manteris writes, “was one of the most, if not the most, successful sports gamblers in Las Vegas,” Mickelson’s gambling took on a whole new aspect.

Using Walters’ network of contacts and inside information, they concocted a scheme that gave them early access to odds and bet millions of dollars, giving the group the potential to put the Hilton sports book out of business.

With the company’s future on the line, Manteris went to Hilton chairman Barron Hilton to voice his concerns and convinced him that the group was manipulating outcomes. “Mr. Hilton quashed it immediately, no questions asked,” writes Manteris. “I had to cut off Mickelson.”

Even close friends weren’t immune to the temptations of the tables ­– or the wrath of Manteris.

The late CNN and TNT sports reporter Craig Sager had always enjoyed complimentary hotel rooms and perks at the Las Vegas Hilton but when allegations arose that Sager had swiped a stack of chips from an unsuspecting woman sitting next to him at the blackjack table, Manteris moved in.

“I saw the surveillance footage and it was clear, Sager was guilty,” he writes. “When it came to ethics it was always one and done with me.

“He was out.”

It wasn’t always the case.

In May 2015, as Manteris prepared for the so-called “Fight of the Century” between Floyd Mayweather Jr. and Manny Pacquiao at the MGM in Las Vegas, an acquaintance called him, informing him that Pacquiao was “not right” and that there was no way he could win. 

“There had been so many times in my career that I’d received calls like that and rarely were they credible tips,” he writes. “But to tell me Pacquaio was ‘not right’ felt like a gigantic warning on a gigantic event with gigantic repercussions.”

For Manteris, who had already taken millions of dollars in bets on the fight, it was the greatest ethical quandary of his career. “My options were clear,” he says. “I could either protect my book and change the odds and say nothing or say something publicly with the expectation that the fight would be postponed and bettors would get a fair shake.

“I protected my book.”

Though the fight went the full 12 rounds, Mayweather cruised to a unanimous decision. 

“We did well with the book that night, but without that information from my friend, we would have lost a significant amount of money.

“I felt sorry for those that bet on him [Pacquiao].”

Former Pittsburgh Penguins superstar and Hall of Famer Jaromir Jagr was another gambler Manteris felt sorry for. While Jagr never bet on hockey, he would bet on virtually every other sport, losing hundreds of thousands of dollars at a time. “Jagr was so bad at sports betting, we actually felt guilty, and had to put the brakes on him,” he recalls.

“I didn’t do that for a lot, but I did for Jagr.”

For the most part, though, sympathy was in short measure. 

While Manteris’ top priority was always customer service, there was only ever one ultimate goal.  “I viewed the betting public as an adversary and I never lost focus on getting the money!” he adds. “They wanted mine, and I wanted theirs.”