Double or Nothing: How Two Friends Risked It All to Buy One of Las Vegas' Legendary Casinos by Tom Breitling, Cal Fussman

“You’ve got to be up in Seattle to sign the contract!”
    He was joking—and not joking. While we were in the air, he’d spoken to Rich Barton over the phone and ironed out the deal.
    There was high-fiving and hugging and of course Tim couldn’t resist a few digs. “What I forgot about doin’ deals, most people never knew!” Joe Pesci couldn’t have executed it any better. Only years later, after I’d met Tony and Danny Bennett, did I fully understand that I’d played an integral role in making the deal. At the time, I was just overjoyed it was done.
    The deal was announced on January 31, 2000, the day after the Super Bowl. Tim and I had sold Travelscape for $105 million in Expedia stock. People have asked what it’s like to make a hundred-million-dollar deal. All I can say is that the feeling really didn’t hit until I saw the stock certificate months later.
    What I do remember from that time is a moment that cameup when lawyers began to sort through the paperwork. They asked Tim and me for a document that showed our fifty-fifty split of the company. We had nothing to hand them. We’d never written one up.
    â€œYou mean,” the lawyers asked, “you don’t have anything on paper proving your partnership in the company?”
    It was impossible for them to believe that all we had, that all we needed, was a handshake on a frozen lake.
    If all this sounds like a fairy tale, read on. Only a couple of months after we’d sold our company to Expedia, the Internet Bubble burst. Wall Street had finally realized that most of the tech companies were more concept than viable businesses, and there was a stampede for cover. Even investors who could see the fall coming were surprised by its severity. As the market bottomed out, companies formerly valued in the billions were suddenly declaring bankruptcy. The dot-com millionaires who’d borrowed against their stock to buy Lamborghinis and mansions went bust, and many a bandwagon investor lost everything.
    As our Expedia stock skidded lower and lower, there was nothing we could do. We couldn’t even sell. The shares we’d received in the deal were restricted from being sold—and the price plummeted before the restriction was lifted. So we simply watched as our stock sank with the rest of the technology market. But when it fell from $34 to $7—and we’d lost $80 million—I couldn’t take it anymore. I phoned Ed and blurted “What the fuck is going on? This is crazy!”
    â€œNo, Tom,” Ed said. “This is the end of The Crazy.”
    Ed tried to calm Tim and me by explaining that The Crazy had little to do with us. There was simply no correlation between the way Expedia stock was being priced and the company’s true value. Expedia’s stock was plummeting only because every dot-com’s stock was plummeting. Ed sensed that as worthlessInternet companies crashed, genuine businesses like Expedia would find a base and recover. Forget about the numbers on the stock market, he advised us. Look at Expedia’s sales. When I looked closely I began to relax. The addition of Travelscape had bolstered Expedia and sent its revenues soaring. And we’re talking about the Microsoft culture, here. This was a company born with a vision of smashing through any wall put in front of it. Now that Expedia had the power of our operation behind it, it was on its way to becoming the largest seller of travel in the world.
    Time proved Ed right. Expedia not only recovered, but our shares soared from $7 to $150 by the summer of 2003. When they did, we had more money than when we first signed the deal.
    But as clairvoyant as Ed could be, he couldn’t fathom where the sale of Travelscape would take our day-to-day lives. Neither could Tim. And neither could I. Looking back on it, these changes were much more profound than the dive and soar in the stock market.
    As part of the deal