They take care of their high rollers here -- a group that includes increasing numbers of professional athletes -- young, charismatic players flush with cash, free time and a hankering for action.

"They are the new millionaires who have bought their homes and their cars and they have run out of things to buy," says Jimmy Tipton, a "host" at the Palms who offers athletes goodies like fight tickets, spa treatments and gourmet meals. "They want to do the cool thing, the hip thing, and coming to Vegas is it."

Adds former NFL quarterback Steve Bartkowski, "If you're gonna throw a party, this is the place to do it." As if on cue, a toga- clad woman walks by, part of the scenery at a charity cocktail party at Caesar's Palace.

But behind the chic new veneer, the goal is the same as when Sinatra played the Sands: separate the people from their money. Athletes have a lot of cash, and Las Vegas wants as much of it as it can get. So do Atlantic City and the scores of casinos that have sprouted up on reservations, riverboats and tourist towns across America since the 1970s.

It's a trend that troubles many gambling experts.

"Athletes are so competitive, they will bet on the number of grains of sand along the first base line," says John Dowd, the Washington lawyer who conducted several gambling investigations for baseball, including the Pete Rose probe. "The casinos play to that. Ballplayers love to be entertained. They are easy marks."

Anti-gambling crusader Arnie Wexler, who has counseled dozens of professional athletes over the past 30 years, calls gambling among athletes "an epidemic."

If athlete gambling is on the rise, it's being lifted by the general public. Once confined to Nevada, legal betting is now everywhere. Every state except Hawaii and Utah has legalized gaming in some shape or form, and governments have become dependent on casino and lottery money to fund schools, parks and, yes, stadiums. America has let down its guard when it comes to gambling.

A more gentle stance

And so have America's sports leagues. A decade ago, NBA commissioner David Stern upbraided Michael Jordan after a San Diego businessman claimed the superstar had lost $1.25 million to him in golf bets. Last October, the NBA allowed Jordan's Wizards to play an exhibition game at Connecticut's Mohegan Sun casino, where Jordan owns two restaurants. After the game, Jordan hit the tables, reportedly betting up to $15,000 a hand on blackjack well into the next morning.

Major League Baseball once barred Willie Mays and Mickey Mantle from the game because they accepted jobs as greeters in Atlantic City; now casinos advertise in stadiums, and the game has hired two umpires sanctioned for gambling illegally with bookies in 1989, Frank Pulli and Richie Garcia, as umpire supervisors.

Even the NCAA, which has crusaded for years to keep Vegas sports books from accepting bets on college games and urged newspapers not to carry betting lines, allows corporate partners like Pepsi and CBS Sportsline to link the Final Four to scratch games and bracket contests.

The history of sports is lined with careers and lives ruined by gambling -- Shoeless Joe Jackson, Denny McLain, Art Schlichter. It's not just ancient history, either: Teddy Dupay, Florida's gritty point guard, was kicked off the team last fall for gambling, and just last month a Michigan booster, Ed Martin, was indicted on charges of giving $616,000 in illegal gambling profits to Chris Webber, now with the Sacramento Kings, and other Wolverines stars.

Eighty percent of the men's Division I football and basketball players polled in 1999 by the University of Michigan admitted to participating in some sort of gambling -- and that was after a decade of well-publicized scandals at Arizona State, Boston College and Northwestern.

PGA Tour officials reprimanded Phil Mickelson, a frequent visitor to the Vegas casinos, for winning $500 from fellow Tour member Mike Weir in a locker room bet that Jim Furyk would hole out a bunker shot in a playoff at the NEC Invitational last August.

"Casinos are not a place where athletes should be seen," says NHL security director Dennis Cunningham, who urges players during pre- season seminars to avoid the comps and pricey gifts, warning them that casinos capitalize on their celebrity.

But Cunningham's warnings seem to have little impact on the sporting world's elite.

Part of the action

"Las Vegas has become the playpen for athletes," says George Maloof, whose family owns the Sacramento Kings and last year opened the Palms, a 455-room luxury resort that is currently the hottest spot in town. The Palms' sports book does not take bets on NBA games, but players are free to hang out there as long as the Kings' owners aren't picking up the tab.

Commissioner David Stern fined the Maloofs for bringing players and their families to a casino they owned a few years ago, saying it was an unfair salary cap advantage. Sacramento used to be considered a dusty outpost for NBA stars; not so since the Maloofs built the Palms, just an hour flight away.

Webber and Vlade Divac, both big men, live like Kings at the Palms, where 24 rooms have beds long enough to accommodate NBA giants and extra-tall shower stalls.

"We designed the Palms with athletes and celebrities in mind," says Maloof, whose Rain dance club is packed with athletes sipping champagne in sky boxes above a sweaty, sexy crowd. "We wanted to create special venues, something that is hot, hip and reflects the true spirit of Las Vegas."

Greater appeal

Vegas has boomed since the days of the original Rat Pack, and as the city has grown, it's developed a sense of sophistication that appeals to rich, young athletes, says Don Logan, co-owner of the minor-league Las Vegas 51s. "Las Vegas has world-class restaurants, great entertainment and great golf," he says.

Old-school Vegas was all-you-can-eat prime rib and the Tropicana; now it's dinner at Spago, blackjack at the Hard Rock Cafe and an 'NSync or Nas concert.

"The guys love Vegas," says an NBA insider. "We had a meeting there during the lockout in the fall of 1998. It was the best- attended meeting in union history."

For many players, Vegas has become the Disneyland of gambling, a safe, legal playground with no state income tax. Jordan, Woods, Mickelson, Jaromir Jagr, John Daly, Gary Payton and UNLV alumnus Randall Cunningham are all regulars. Mike Piazza was among the beautiful people who attended the Palms opening last fall. Faulk has been here since the Super Bowl. John Thompson owns a place here; Shaquille O'Neal is shopping for one.

Some athletes can't get enough of the fun and the glamour. A former bookie knew several ballplayers who loved playing in Southern California because they could hop on a plane after a day game, spend the night in Vegas and return for the following day's night game.

"I've seen some unbelievable nights," says the bookie, who now lectures Major League Baseball players about gambling at pre-season seminars. "Guys leaving $200,000 down, guys winning $100,000. What's $50,000 when you are making $12 million?"

Casinos want their share

Casinos in Las Vegas, Atlantic City and elsewhere want a cut of those big contracts, and they keep track of which players sign big deals, then tempt them with outrageously lavish gifts. "The casinos want a shot at their money," says one host, who caters to big-name athletes with credit lines between $50,000 and $7 million.

"We provide $10,000 worth of chips just to come in the door," says one host, who requested anonymity. "The casinos know these guys will spend the $10,000, and then spend a lot more than that."