America: 50☆Stars (Vol. 3)

Episode 5: Sporting Blood

"How did you become a gambler?" New York asked the Jew that committed the sin of gambling according to his faith.

With a shrug, he responded, "I always gambled. I can't remember when I didn't. Maybe I gambled just to show my father he couldn't tell me what to do, but I don't think so. I think I gambled because I loved the excitement. When I gambled, nothing else mattered." Those were the words that summed up the life of Arnold Rothstein.

New York knew his father. "Abe the Just" was a descendant of immigrants who came to New York City in the 1850s to escape poverty. He worked hard to achieve the American Dream. He became an affluent businessman, a respected character in the Jewish community, and a reliable provider for his wife and children. Life in a middle-class household was peaceful and comfortable. As such, it came as a shock to Abraham Rothstein when he confronted his son Arnold posing with a knife over his older brother who was fast asleep in bed.

"I hate Harry," the three-year-old told his father. And he meant it.

Despite growing up in a safe and stable environment, Arnold Rothstein knew only apathy and bitterness. He was the complete opposite of his older brother, fueling his inferiority complex. Harry was likable among the youth. Arnold was the kid to play in closets in the basement. Harry was a brilliant student in school. Arnold dropped out of school because all the academic subjects except mathematics were boring to him; he also didn't like how the teachers act like they were better than him. Harry followed the Orthodox way, enjoyed going to cheder (Hebrew school), and spoke Hebrew; he proclaimed he would study to become a rabbi. Arnold stopped following his faith after his bar mitzvah, telling his father, "I had enough. Who cares about this stuff? This is America, not Jerusalem. I'm an American. Let Harry be a Jew."

Arnold Rothstein hated not only his older brother, but he also hated his father. It was bad enough getting compared to the pride and joy of the family that was Harry. Getting constantly told off for his behavior going against faith was what ticked him off the most. Outside their quaint Jewish community was the diverse landscape of New York City. A lot of kids in his generation were hanging around smokers, thieves, prostitutes, gamblers, and gangsters. It was cool. It was fun. It was freedom from the ancient principles of a religion he had no interest in following. No matter how hard his father tried to dissuade him from the vices, the rebellious son took pleasure going against his strict father, gambling to the point he grew to be a rich, powerful, and influential figure in the criminal underworld. That was how A.R. became a gambler.

"Aside from your business operations, it's quite impressive you're able to gather a lot of money from gambling so much," New York remarked while observing the kingpin's lavish Manhattan office.

"Thank you." The 39-year-old man smiled coyly. "If you need advice regarding the subject, I'm more than happy to oblige in that request."

"Is that so?"

"Do you have a question in mind?"

He nodded. "Yes. I have one question I've been meaning to ask."

"Go ahead."

"Where the fuck is my money?" New York picked up the baseball he had leaning against his chair. "It has been years, Mr. Rothstein. No more excuses. You lost that poker game and owe me $100,000. It's time for you to cough up the money."

"It's always about money to you," Rothstein sighed, showing indifference. "I'll have the money ready for you next week."

"That's what you said last week."

"I did?" He didn't sound at all surprised, remaining indifferent.

"You also said you would have it ready the week before that." He scowled at the kingpin's poor attempts to hide a smirk. "Enough games, A.R. I'm tired of waiting for the $100,000 you owe me."