If you drive west out of New Orleans on I-10 for about an hour, on pavement cut through forest and swamp, the wilderness broken occasionally by exit signs and billboards, you will eventually come to the Highland Road exit, marking the eastern border of Baton Rouge, the Louisiana State capital. Take the exit, turn left, and drive for about a mile. On your right you'll see a 10 foot tall, white brick fence; it conceals the home and estates of a local minister named Jimmy Swaggart. On the left is a driveway that leads into a country club and community named The Country Club of Louisiana. It is a gated access community, and if you live there, or if you have been cleared by a resident with the grimly polite security force at the front gate, you will be bid to enter. The entrance road provides a panoramic view of the community, which while comprised of the hardworking wealthy, varies from respected physicians to attorneys to rappers who have left the Treme and Caleo projects of New Orleans behind, hopefully forever. If you look to your left, across a stream that gurgles peacefully between the road and backyards of homes worth over one million dollars, you might see an elderly gentleman sitting on his back patio, his right leg crossed over his left, looking peaceful, smiling, as if he has no cares in the world, including a prison sentence, hanging over him. If you honk your horn, or if he recognizes you, the smile will get even bigger, and Edwin Edwards, the former governor of the State of Louisiana, will wave to you. And, despite the threat of the prison sentence, odds are that he won't get any closer to a prison cell than the distance between the state penitentiary and his back porch.

BAD BET ON THE BAYOU is the story of Edwin Edwards, a political genius whose craft, guile, and greed remain legendary in a state where those qualities are prerequisites for running for office at any level. It is also the story of how casino gambling was introduced to Louisiana or, more accurately, to New Orleans. Tyler Bridges, the author of BAD BET, is a former reporter for the New Orleans Times-Picayune; he modestly fails to note that the revelations reported in the paper were, in fact, uncovered by him. Bridges's penchant for stepping back and keeping out of the story are not only laudable, but also keep things moving, as the author never trips over himself while telling a story that he was, at least in a reporting capacity, a part of. It is this factor, among many others, that keep BAD BET ON THE BAYOU as fast-paced, interesting and compelling as any work of fiction you might read.

BAD BET ON THE BAYOU begins with a capsule history of Edwards's life and how he came to be Louisiana's most elected governor. The big story here, however, is gambling. Gambling was not new to the state of Louisiana; gambling was part of the area even before it became a U. S. Territory. When the oil market went south, the feeling was that gambling could revitalize the economy. Bridges's account of how riverboat casinos and the New Orleans land casino were approved by the state legislature are alone worth reading the book for. The account demonstrates that while Edwards was culpable in bringing gambling to Louisiana, for all of the wrong reasons, he certainly wasn't alone in being at fault --- or at the trough. From the selection process to determine who would run the casino, to the temporary location of the casino --- an area that borders on two of the most dangerous neighborhoods in the city, areas where even the police do not patrol at night --- to the preordained ultimate failure of the Harrah's casino, Bridges's account is dead-on accurate while reading like a work of fiction. One critic of casino gambling, whose words are reported in BAD BET ON THE BAYOU, was so prescient that he should change his name to Nostradamus. What he predicted would happen in fact happened --- after this book went to press, but prior to its publication. Without giving anything away, it was predicted that all of the concessions that the casino operators made in order to operate the casino would be excused away on the grounds of economic impossibility. Sure enough, that is exactly what happened. Edwards's machinations were so flagrant that the impossible happened: He was tried and convicted of engaging in a criminal enterprise, extortion, and money laundering.

BAD BET ON THE BAYOU is a story of corruption, true, but it is also a story of gullibility, both on the part of elected officials and the people who put them in office. It is also the story of a beautiful state, blessed with unimaginable riches, that has been plundered repeatedly for close to 300 years. BAD BET ON THE BAYOU also illustrates that, far too often, populist politicians are interested in solving what they discern to be problems with other people's money --- money that, all too often, finds its way to their own pockets, as opposed to meeting the alleged objectives. Bridges's account is, quite simply, a masterwork. He is wrong, however, on one point. Bridges concludes that Edwards's political career is over. Wrong. Edwards's convictions are being appealed, and he says once all of the legal problems are out of the way, he might run for governor again. If he does, bet your money that he would be elected again.