The Dog and Pony Show

Barrett Jackson Las Vegas

Jun 09, 2024

I’m always up for a trip to Las Vegas, so if there’s a car auction scheduled you can bet that it’s already on my calendar. There are usually two major ones spaced throughout the year in Vegas: Barrett Jackson and Mecum. Both auctions typically roll about 600 cars past the block over three days, with the lower priced stuff running on Thursday, mid-level collector cars on Friday, and the top grade cars on Saturday. There’s no test driving of the cars or other ways to perform due diligence, so my work begins well before my flight takes off. Of the 600 or so cars, I tend to cull the list down to about 60 that hold interest for me, then I start researching VINs, searching out information on past sales and studying price trends. Basically, I want to put my finger on the pulse of what the market thinks about each one of those 60.

Both auctions feature LOTS of muscle cars, which have never really been my thing, but it provides an interesting opportunity for arbitrage. In other words, for all of the Camaros and Chevelles that attract a frenzy of bidding on the block, there’s going to be the lone BMW 2002tii that slips by unnoticed or unappreciated. So…. now take that BMW and put it on Bring a Trailer, and it will be the Belle of the Ball. That’s my angle, but it’s no slam dunk either. Even if I’ve scored a “deal”, I also have to consider the other costs involved. The auction house takes a 10% buyer’s fee, so add that on to your price. Then there’s shipping, where you can either be gouged mercilessly by the on-site rep for Reliable Carriers, or you can choose to make your own transportation arrangements. In that case, you’ve now got 48 hours to find a carrier to come get your car out of there before the gates close.

But, yes, there can be good buys if you’re patient and can withstand spending three days in an overstimulating and loud convention hall. Of the 60 cars that I had in my list, there were two that I thought had the potential to be winners. First was a 1973 Volvo 1800ES. These are somewhat rare, only being made for two years, but I’ve sold about a dozen of these little wagons over my career. The one at this auction had been meticulously restored, truly one of the best examples I’d seen. It was also bright orange, which happened to be a factory color. No way anyone at Barrett Jackson is going to be looking for an orange Volvo, I thought. The other car was a 1970 Maserati Ghibli with 21K original miles that had previously been owned by Frank Sinatra. Sure, celebrity cars are a mainstay at Barrett, but a Maserati? With this crowd, if it had been a Corvette- of course, lots of interest. But who here really knows Maseratis? Probably not many, and truthfully, that included me.

In the week before the auction, I proceeded to do a deep dive into Ghiblis. There had been about two dozen sold on BaT, usually trading hands for between 125-200, but some had gone up as high as 300 for the 4.9L SS version. Frank’s was the more basic 4.7L. It was silver with black leather and was sexy as hell. The following owner after Frank had been the actor George Hamilton, and next was Dave Thomas, the founder of Wendy’s. My thought was that I could hang back and wait until the bidding started to slow, say around 150, then jump into the action and ride it out to a max of 170, if it even got that far. After fees and transport, I’d be in the car for under 190 at my door. With its great colors and compelling ownership history it’d be a no-brainer to do 200 on BaT, but could possibly do much more than that with Sinatra’s name attached to it. And for the Volvo? Easy. The high water mark for an ES on BaT had been 60K on an auction back in 2021. That car was nice, this one was nicer. My crystal ball was telling me that once I had outbid Barrett’s curiosity seekers I’d be the last man standing, probably with a hammer price in the high 30’s. Wrap it up and take it away.

Now, for me, I primarily go to Vegas for fun. But these auctions are exhausting. Over the years I’ve learned that where you stay is key. You need a refuge, you need a place that is quiet and serene with no hassles or distractions. For me, that place is Encore. I’ve often told people that if you ever want to stay at a hotel where you’re not going to find a single thing to complain about, stay at a Wynn property.

Steve Wynn (born Stephen Weinberg) was raised in a family that owned bingo parlors in Connecticut. Shortly after his father’s death in 1963 he moved his family to Las Vegas, where he worked his way up into executive roles. First at The Frontier, then the Golden Nugget, where by 1973 he had become the majority shareholder and the youngest casino owner in Las Vegas at the age of 31. By 1980 he had opened a second Golden Nugget location in Atlantic City. With cash from the sale of that property in 1987, he went on to design and build a new casino that would usher in the mega-resort era of Las Vegas: The Mirage. Taking two years to build and amassing half a billion dollars of debt along the way (mostly financed with junk bonds), it was a monumental gamble. When it opened in 1989, The Mirage had 6400 employees and the strain of $1M a day in operating expenses. Everybody expected it to fail, but instead it thrived, instantly. Steve Wynn was now 47, and had become a Las Vegas legend.

Next came Treasure Island. By 1998 he had opened the Bellagio. In the year 2000 he sold the whole kit and kaboodle to MGM for $6.6B and went on to build his namesake property. The Wynn resort opened in 2005 on the site of the former Desert Inn. Its sister property, Encore, opened in 2008. Despite the personal issues that forced him to step down from his role as CEO in 2018, these two properties represent the pinnacle of Steve Wynn’s approach to design, amenities and service.

Which is great. But another advantage to staying there is that I can walk to the convention center, right down this route…..

I checked in on Wednesday and got ready for the next day’s activities, there’s going to be a lot to look at. As expected, I saw a lot of this:

But there’s also someone who had brought a HUGE collection of mini-bikes to start things off on Thursday. All of the lots over these three days will be running at No Reserve, where the high bid wins, regardless of what price they’re bid to. I spend some time looking over these bikes. This could be fun.

By the end of the day I’d witnessed a few good buys cross the block, but when the car’s priced at $5K or $6K the added cost of transport home just doesn’t pencil. Great if you’re a local, though. That afternoon I’d seen enough so I took an Uber over to a local’s place to unwind and play a little video poker at the bar.

Then I stopped off downtown at The D to see if their Sigma Derby machine was working. It’s the last old-school mechanical one in Vegas and when it breaks, which is often, the owner of The D has to go looking for parts on eBay to fix it.

By mid-day Friday I was almost half-way through my list, now showing a series of lines that crossed out the cars that got bid too high, or the cars that looked worse in person than what the photos had shown online. Written on that list are my max bid limits, determined ahead of time, which makes things stress-free while I’m in the throes of bidding. Reach the limit, stop bidding, it’s that simple.

Friday was a strike-out, which is fine. I always tell myself that it’s better to come home empty-handed than to end up with a car that you know you paid too much for. Besides, it’s Vegas. I’m happy to be here, anyway. So I retreat back to my nest at Encore and plan my night. For as much as I love Encore, the casino floor is a little beyond my pay grade. On this busy Friday night the craps tables had changed over to a $50 minimum, and in a game where you’re going to have multiple bets riding at any given time, it can take the fun out of things. Nevertheless, the table is packed. I move along to go check out the other craps table they have running. This one has a $100 minimum. It’s also packed.

As usual, I find myself downtown at Circa, banging away at video poker in search of the elusive royal flush. I leave the sportsbook to move over to the bar, where a couple of hours later I hit the next best thing: 4 Aces with a low kicker. This is what video poker players dream about. I wait for the attendant to bring me the cash and the accompanying W2-G that will let Uncle Sam know about it. The cash barely fits in my wallet. I guess I’ll get another drink. I look over at the bartender who’s already making me another Bulleit Rye. Not long after I take a sip I HIT IT AGAIN, even with another Four as the kicker! Vegas bartenders get a front row seat to see the big hits at video poker, and most of them play the game themselves. Outside of blackjack, it offers the house’s lowest edge if you know how to hold the right cards, which most regular poker players are going to know how to do naturally. So, folks, skip the slots and play video poker instead.

I play for a while more, then get around to thinking that I had better go; notch the win and walk away. The bartender wants to make me another. Nah. I put another tip in the jar and double check that I have my wallet and phone. I’ve had four drinks and go into high situational awareness mode. I’ve got to get back to Encore safely, get into bed and get ready for tomorrow. I better have my head screwed on straight.

The Ghibli is crossing in prime-time, televised live. The normally half-full seating area for bidders is now completely full, with people standing on the sides. I’m folding and unfolding my list and notice that my hands are clammy. Even when you’re prepared, I guess it’s not completely stress-free, is it.

Here we go. 150 already, that was fast. Now 170, 190, 210. What is happening?! I never even got the chance to raise my hand. After some spirited back and forth between two bidders, the car hammered at 300, 330 after fees. Wow. Didn’t see that coming.

Well, there’s the still the Volvo up ahead, but not for another hour or so. I go walk around, again. By Saturday I’ve become pretty tired of this place. Yes, I’ve already seen the EarthRoamer, already chuckled at the bad art. I’d like to be at Circa right now with a Bulleit Rye.

The Volvo’s crossing. 30, now 40, it’s happening all over again. Damn it. I’m able to jump in at 45. The auctioneer is looking for more bids, there aren’t any. Wait, now 47. The ringman’s in my face looking for 49. Now I’m in at 49. I can go up to 53. That’s $58,300 after fees, plus $1300 for transport, leaving me right under the 60k high water mark for these on BaT. I guess my profit will depend on how much I can break that record by. Crap, now it’s at 51. “53! 53! 53!” he’s shouting at me. Yup, 53, my good man. I tell him that’s my last bid and he turns his back to signal something to the auctioneer. The screen on stage is showing 55, they’re looking for 55. Then it changes and now they’re looking for 57, 57, 57. Nope. I reach out to the ringman with a clammy hand and say thanks. So much for me thinking that this would be a Dog and Pony Show.

Soon I’m back at Circa chatting with the bartender, keeping tabs on my bankroll and thinking about my flight back home tomorrow. Didn’t score any more big wins at video poker, but I did come home with one of those mini-bikes!

Risk

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