The Whale That Nearly Drowned The Donald
In The Art of the Comeback, published in 1997, Trump explains that until he met Kashiwagi, he saw himself as an investor who dealt only in facts and reason. But his duel with the great whale in action made him realize “that I had become a gambler, something I never thought I was.”
Perhaps just as important, when gambling failed him, Trump didn’t quit: He doubled down.
.. Kashiwagi fit the bill. His game was baccarat, a fast-paced card game similar to blackjack that is favored by James Bond. And he bet big, wagering up to $250,000 per hand. He was also a murky figure. The son of a carpenter, he claimed income of $100 million per year and assets of $1 billion, owned a palatial Tokyo home and retained a private chef who cooked him marinated monkey meat. But an independent assessment found his real estate business had revenues of only $15 million and a handful of staffers
.. It was just the sort of publicity Trump had been seeking. “That [Kashiwagi] chose Trump Plaza was an enormous coup for us,” O’Donnell wrote. He was “the perfect complement to the world-class image we were marketing, and enhanced the Trump image of elegance and excitement.” Kashiwagi “could propel Trump Plaza into an entirely new realm of action,” O’Donnell believed.
.. “What the hell am I doing? I asked myself,” he wrote. “Cash flow is way down, and I’m playing with a guy who could win $40 or $50 million in a matter of days.” Suddenly, it became clear that this was a PR triumph that could put the Trump Plaza out of business.
.. So Marcum and an Atlantic City casino insider named Al Glasgow prepared a report for Trump proposing a “freeze out” agreement. Under the deal, Kashiwagi would bring $12 million to the table and play until he had either doubled it—or lost everything. Even with huge bets, that would take a long time. Marcum simulated the match in detailed hand written notes. Kashiwagi might surge ahead early, he estimated, but after 75 hours at the table – far longer than he had stayed the first time – his chances of winning would fall to 15 percent. The key was to prevent a repeat of Kashiwagi’s first visit, when he had walked out while ahead.
.. Kashiwagi saw things very differently. His aide told reporters that Trump had dishonorably violated their deal by calling off the game early. The deal had reportedly been for play to continue until Kashiwagi either won or lost $12 million. That’s not what happened: Trump called the game after $10 million.
It’s not clear, then, why Trump would later write that he was “[r]emembering our deal”—or why he would say that Kashiwagi agreed to stop play. But if Trump did change the terms of a deal at the last minute, it would not be for the first or last time.
Kashiwagi departed in a rage, with his aide announcing plans for that autographed copy of Art of the Deal. “We are going to burn it soon,” he said.
Trump might not have cared, except that Kashiwagi owed him a lot of money.
.. Kashiwagi suggested that Trump, then in significant debt himself, was the one with a credit problem. His aide told the Journal that Trump Plaza had offered his boss a $5,000 shopping spree at Macy’s in Atlantic City—but that the store had rejected Trump’s credit at the register.
.. In a statement to POLITICO, Trump expressed respect for Kashiwagi (though no remorse for his death). “I loved our matches with him,” Trump said. “He was a great player who loved big numbers. He made me a lot of money when money was very tight and the economy was crashing.”
But it’s not clear that Kashiwagi made Trump any money at all. The final ledger is murky. But if Kashiwagi won $6 million on his first trip to Atlantic City, then lost $10 million—and died owing Trump $4 million, then Trump at best broke even. If reports that Kashiwagi cashed in nearly $500,000 in chips on his way out of the casino are correct, then Trump finished in the red.
Trump did get the media attention that had always been part of his plan. But it wasn’t enough to save the Trump Plaza or any of his other properties. Within a couple of years Trump would limp out of Atlantic City altogether, narrowly escaping personal bankruptcy. His great gamble—on Kashiwagi, and on gambling itself—can hardly be called a success. Only in Trump’s world can that kind of wager be called a win.