Flood victims gamble away charity, poker machines under scrutiny
Fancy a flutter? It's never far away in Sydney -- but that could change.The nation’s most expensive pastime is under threat.
The BBQ will probably stay, but poker machines –- the drug of the nation –- could be restricted.
A day after ANZAC Day, where ‘two-up’ was legally played in pubs and clubs in honor of a gambling heritage, questions on the social impact of “one-armed bandits” are resurfacing.
A campaign by two rogue politicians is gathering steam in Canberra -- helped by revelations that poker machine profits in flood-ravaged Queensland have risen 8.2 per cent in the first quarter of the year.
Following Federal Government relief and charity, Queenslanders have been losing $4.9 million per day on the pokies, reports the Courier-Mail newspaper
The NSW infatuation with poker machines is even more ghastly. About 99,500 can be found around the state. Wherever you can find a schooner, a poker machine won’t be far away. Many can chew through $50 in about 10 seconds flat.
They net a $4.4 billion in profits annually, and the State Government picks up close enough to a billion in taxes. Political parties also graciously receive donations from hotels and clubs.
The biggest operators of poker machines is Clubs NSW, who house 40 per cent of the country's machines -- and lay claim to 8.2 per cent of high stake machines in the world.
Gambling profits support sporting teams and charities, operators say, although a "Newcastle Herald" report revealed this at only 2.7 per cent of totals.
This social addiction is not without its crusaders: When Russell Crowe bought the South Sydney Rabbitohs, he tried to rid the working-class league's club of poker machines.
It was one battle the gladiator couldn’t win: How can one compensate for such a windfall?
But the two rogue politicians in Canberra have now made it their crusade. One, Senator Nick Xenephon, rose to power in South Australia running on an anti-poker machine campaign.
He has found a friend in Independent MP Andrew Wilkie, of Hobart, who recently snuck into power on the country’s preferential voting system. Wilkie -- an ex-military serviceman -- achieved fame by being a “whistle-blower” on the Iraq war while working as a government intelligence officer.
Rogues -- for once in Australia’s political life -- have power. They’re part of a hung parliament, so can hold the government to ransom on individual issues.
Wilkie’s gone for poker machine. Without poker machine legislation to set pre-commitment levels by operators -- and slash the $10 billion blown on machines every year nationally -- he’ll effectively withdraw his support from Julia Gillard’s government and jump boat to the opposition coalition.
Is he serious? Would he destabilize the country to limit the social impact of pokies? Maybe so: The Gillard government has thrown its support behind the legislation, which could be in place by 2014.
There’s one catch. He needs the support of another Independent MP, Rob Oakeshott –- the man who made a country cringe when he turned his five minutes of fame (deciding which party to support after the election result delivered a hung parliament) into closer to twenty minutes.
Once again, the nation is awaiting his response.
So where has Oakeshott recently been found?
"The Border Times" reported him trekking around Borneo, courtesy of Clubs NSW.






