Pokie plague threatens pubs

By TERRY TOMALIN

© St. Petersburg Times, published September 23, 2000

SYDNEY, Australia -- The Smith brothers don't like pokie machines.

"They are a plague," Nick Smith said. "You can't get away from them."

Younger brother Simon echoed his sentiments.

"Everywhere you go, people are playing slot machines," he said. "It is out of control."

There was a time a bloke could go into a pub, have a few schooners of his favorite brew and watch a little rugby league or Aussie Rules football without hearing the incessant clatter of pokie machines.

"In some places they've even removed some of the televisions so they can jam in more pokie machines," Simon Smith said. "They have even gotten rid of the snooker tables."

When the first settlers -- make that convicts -- arrived in Australia, they had few earthly pleasures outside of a good pint of grog. So it is only natural that the neighborhood pub has developed nearly sacred status.

A Friday evening usually starts with a trip to the local RSL (Returned Servicemen's League) or a neighborhood "footy club," like the St. George Leagues Club, where fans of the local rugby league team, the Dragons, come to quench their first.

"The beer is cheaper here," Nick Smith explained. "It is a good place to start an evening."

That is about the only good thing about pokies. They keep the price of beer down.

"The machines draw the people in," he said. "So they don't mind selling the beer a little cheaper."

If slot machines aren't your thing, you can place a wager on the horses, greyhounds or the latest rugby game. But once you have had your fill of sport, it is time to head to a real pub.

Better yet, several real pubs.

This is a favorite pastime of the Australian male. They call it the pub crawl. "You start off with a couple of cheapies at the footy club, get your spirits up, then head from pub to pub," Nick Smith said.

On this Friday night, a corner bar called the the Cricketer was just starting to rock around midnight. The security guards at the door were looking a little nervous because the New Zealand cycling team has planted its flag behind the bar and called it home.

"I'm keeping my eye on them," one of the guards said. "They haven't been here long enough for me to start throwing people out. But give 'em time."

During the Olympics, many athletes and fans develop a pack mentality. Countries tend to stick together. A group of Canadians took over one downtown establishment and renamed it "The Moose Bar." A huge banner hung outside a another pub proclaiming it "The Czech Room."

When the Olympics last visited Australia -- 1956 in Melbourne -- only men were allowed in pubs. And the pubs served only beer, and the walls and floors, inside and out, were tiled so they could be easily hosed down.

The pubs closed early -- 6 p.m. -- so the working men would slam down as many as they could before heading home. They called it the "Six O'Clock Swill."

Plenty of traditional Aussie pubs are left in Sydney. You'll find one on nearly every corner, usually under a sign that says "Hotel."

The Woollamoolloo fits the bill.

The name is a little misleading because nobody actually stays overnight in these places, unless, of course, they pass out in the men's room and evade the publican's rounds at closing time.

Pubs let women in these days, but don't look for separate restrooms. "Stalls in here, and troughs over there," the barman said. "Take your pick mate."

The Woollamoolloo is one the few places that is standing its ground against the pokie plague.

"Pokie? They ought to dump the whole lot of them in the harbor," said Brett Muller, a 22-year-old from Newcastle. "I hate 'em."

Like most young Australians, Muller and his mates Jobbo, Hibbo and Charlie Chan don't have the time, money or inclination to try the slot machines.

"What a waste," New Zealander Craig Hibbs said of the slots. "That is money that I could be spending on beer."

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