Saturday, July 3, 2010

BOB STUPAK TRIBUTE, PART 1


AN INDEPENDENCE DAY TRIBUTE TO ONE OF THE MOST INDEPENDENT AND UNIQUE AMERICANS WE EVER BEFRIENDED -- THE LATE, GREAT BOB STUPAK 1942-2009

Editor's Note: In 2000, we abruptly changed careers by our own design. Before relocating from Ohio to Miami, we toured the nation -- interviewing legendary characters. Bob Stupak, the Casino King, stood out more than anyone else.

But he agreed to an interview only on the condition that it be published after he died. Though he was more than 20 years or senior, he had recently beaten the odds by surviving a horrific motorcycle crash. He was always lucky, so he probably figured the story would never see the light of day -- because he would somehow beat the house odds and outlive an interviewer young enough to be his son. He lost this wager, succumbing to leukemia less than a year ago.

So now his cantankerous soul can mutter in his Pittsburghese accent from the great Stratosphere in the sky "dat SOBing reporter got nothin' right about me and now that I can't sue 'eem, he's gonna print the whole #$%@ing story without recourse." The following is the whole bleeping story, frozen in Las Vegas in the year 2000:


PART 1: JUST PLAYIN' THE ODDS

By Steve Wright

Bob Stupak is the kind of man who could drive his biographer to drink, maybe even to a mental ward.

He’s intense, driven, controlling and uber-competitive – and that only begins to describe him.

The Pittsburgh native also is a high stakes gambler, maverick casino boss, devoted father and spiritual man. He is a smallish man who casts a huge shadow.

Steve Wynn is more famous, Kirk Kerkorian more wealthy, but Bob Stupak truly is the last of the throwback Vegas Guys. Fueled by dreams and determination rather than an East Coast education or junk bond fortune, Stupak has more in common with the horse traders who rode into Las Vegas with a bank roll and a lust for life than the art collecting casino kings of today.

Stupak is at once a shameless promoter and a borderline paranoid who antagonizes interviewers and fends off any question aimed at getting to the heart of the man who built the Las Vegas landmark Stratosphere Tower.
Although he had been ousted from the Stratosphere board and lost $100 million in stock when the casino struggled, a life-size statue of Stupak had stood on display in the Strat’s Wall of Fame, proclaiming him “Mr. Las Vegas.”

Bob Stupak is an anti-hero and he not only relishes the roll, he downright makes love to it.

God only knows why I sought an audience with such a man. I think it’s because I’ve always been intrigued by characters, even pain in the ass ones.

Ever since I saw Stupak’s battered mug on a trash TV program on Las Vegas in the mid-90s, I’ve been drawn to him. He spewed Sin City philosophy out of the corner of his mouth in an unmistakable Pittsburghese accent. Looking up at his smirk, his defiant self confidence, I knew I wanted to interview that Vegas Guy dominating my TV screen.

In spring 1999, I visited the Casino Legends Hall of Fame at Tropicana Resort & Casino. I noticed the gilded Stupak statue had been moved from the Stratosphere to the Trop. Looking up at the roughly 5-foot-8 Mr. Las Vegas, I vowed that I would meet the living legend. I later read No Limit, a 1997 unauthorized biography of Stupak written by John L. Smith of the Las Vegas Review-Journal.

The die was cast.


STAY TUNED FOR THIS 8-PART STORY TOLD JULY 3-10...

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