If you have a few million dollars and weekend plans in Vegas, call Steve Cyr.

Admittedly, the smooth-talking casino is probably (hopefully) out of your price range. The UNLV grad and alumni board member is known as a "whale hunter" -- he tracks down the biggest and boldest gamblers and hooks them up for the weekend. You need
tickets to a fight? Done. Suite at hte Hard Rock with a bowling alley? He's your man. Celine Dion, front-row? Well... whatever
makes you happy. Just be ready to pony up about, oh, $250,000 for a hand of Texas Hold'em.

What separates Cyr form the rest of the other 500 or so casino hosts in town is a combination of honesty, charisma and drive.
Even when he's playing the "bad guy," it's hard to dislike the man. On this day, he and his entourage are invited
guests at the Montel Williams Show, where he has to anser to a growing influx of teen gambling addicts. To prepare, he's
brought along his extremely attractive wife, Tanya, a former waitress at the Pink Taco (a popular Mexican restaurant in the
Hard Rock Casino) and current business partner of Cyr's. Get on her husband's good side, and you just might get a free
copy of their hosting company's 2005 Calendar, complete with a lingerie-clad photo of Tanya.

During the show, Cyr effortlessly shifts the blame from teh gambling industry to the gambler. "Bring your kids to Vegas,
and I'll show 'em a version of Scared Straight," he suggests. "I teach everyone that I have the best job -- I work for the
house. We always win. You have to think of gambling as entertainment, not a way to make money." Despite that mea
culpa, big spenders such as Hustler publisher Larry Flynt ("He'll play two million, win a couple thousand and leave. Eat
like a bird, shit like a mosse, as I say.") and one very respected foreign dignitary ("I can't say his name") seek out Cyr
during their weekend journeys to Sin City.

Gambling was actually an afterthought for hte Salina, KS, native when he was looking for a college. "My dad owned
a Howard Johnson's hotel," Cyr explains. "I was supposed to go here to get my hotel degree and then come help dad.
Obviously, that didn't happen."

Although he initially branded UNLV a "party school," Cyr made out with some high grades. Along the way, he landed
a telemarketing gig (later shut down by the FBI) and, during his senior year, a casino internship. "After watching a few
high-rollers lose $35,000, I knew what I wanted to do," he say, chuckling.

During his internship, Cyr learned everything from blackjack dealing to surveillance. Eventually he landed at Caesar's
Palace, thanks to help from UNLV. After a few rough starts, including seven firings, Cyr established himself as the
premier host in town, and broke off to start his own hosting firm, H-Six.

"It's all about networking," he says. "I know every guy at the $100 window of hte local racetracks. I know every golf
pro in California. I know who's booking on the games and who's booking on the golf course. I know limo valet
parkets, the VIP services guuy at Rio, MGM, Caesar's ... I have my network."

During his years of hosting, Cyr has seen some unusual bahavior. "I had a high-roller who wanted to play out in
the water at the Hard Rock," he remembers. "He stayed in the pool, the dealer was on dry land. Played for two
days straight. He lost half a million."

So Cyr is the hero when somebody needs a room, a ticket or just a little special treatment. But after some of
these guys lose a half mill, things can get ugly. "By Sunday they either hate me or love me," he says.
"Personally, I don't care if you win or lose. I get paid either way. Just give me a shot at your money."