When he was 21, Anthony Curtis ran away to join the circus.

Well, not the circus, exactly, although there are similarities between that idiosyncratic three-ring world and the one he chose.

No, what Curtis did was quit college to become a professional poker player in Las Vegas. (His parents, he says, were "understanding about it.")

For Curtis, it made perfect sense. He grew up in Detroit in a large Polish family. Whenever the clan got together, pinochle and hearts were on the menu as often as pierogi.

"Literally from the time I was 4 years old, I would sit with the grandparents and the parents and watch. My brothers and cousins would run out and play and I'd be in there. Finally, they let me play. By the time I was 12 years old, except for the best two or three players in the family, I could beat everybody," recalled Curtis, 50.

"It didn't get any better than that for me, to take it further and further and see how good I could get."

Both pinochle and hearts, in case you're not a card player, are counting games, meaning the player must mentally keep track of which cards have been played, calculating the odds of a particular card coming up; guess-timating on the basis of this process who holds which cards.

"The best pinochle and hearts players are counting all the time, so this is natural to me," he said.

To be a gambler, he says, "you have to have an innate understanding of probability. It's all mathematics. When I read about card counting, which I first did in high school, it made ultimate sense to me. And if you take it further and become obsessed, like me, you start reading about strategies and game theory, and then it becomes a hobby, and then it becomes a vocation."

And so it did for Curtis in 1979. He's never looked back. Las Vegas is more than home to him. You can see it as you sit across from his spacious desk and watch his normally rather deadpan face (a great asset to a gambler) become alight as he discusses the $2.99 shrimp cocktail at the Golden Nugget (he loves a bargain as much as his readers) or where to buy show tickets at half price.

Vegas now is also his profession.

Although he is, as he says, "soooooo 86'd" from playing the casino tables except during professional tournaments, he sits in this second-floor office a flew blocks off the Strip and — if knowledge is power — he is master of all he sees.

From its small deck equipped with a rather tattered bar stool, he can watch the new Trump Tower rising and see the just-opened Palazzo Las Vegas Resort, the surreal Eiffel Tower replica, the tip-top of the Luxor Las Vegas pyramid (and, when he works late, its piercing laser beam shooting into the dark heavens) and the towers of Disneyland (er, Excalibur). As several floors of the Monte Carlo Resort and Casino burned brightly and billowed black smoke Jan. 25, he was at his computer, pounding out impressions of what he was watching.

Because although Curtis didn't make a million as a gambler (or, if he did, he's not telling), he did found the Las Vegas Advisor in 1983, one of the most respected and widely read publications on the city and unique in that it's aimed equally at the gambler and their nongambling traveling companions, at those who will spend thousands and those who won't go anywhere they can't use a coupon. Not to mention those trying vainly to keep up with one of the most changeable places on the planet.

In addition to a staff that, as he says, "works Vegas 24/7," the Internet has allowed him to harness the information-gathering capabilities of thousands of Las Vegas Advisor subscribers, who send in uncounted tips every day (www.lasvegasadvisor.com).

This didn't happen by accident ... but almost. By the early '80s, Curtis was getting too well known as a player. "My shelf life was beginning to run out," he says, drily.

Curtis' father, a college professor who also operated a small educational press, suggested starting a little press, maybe use his knowledge of Vegas to advantage.

The Las Vegas Advisor, which has been through a number of incarnations, was born. Today, it's a print newsletter that includes an annual Pocketbook of Values coupon book, a highly praised and multifaceted online site, and a publishing arm that does books, software, strategy cards and other products. They have published about 70 titles, primarily gambling- or Las Vegas-related.

One thing that's remained: "There are no ads. I had no clue how to sell advertising and, anyway, I didn't want to be told what to do or say." Curtis and his researchers don't take freebies, either.

It was the '90s when things really took off, Curtis said.

His secrets of success: He developed a network of sources who tipped him to changes, money-saving ideas, behind-the-scenes news. He instituted a Top 10 list. (His readers LOVE Top 10 lists). He made coupon deals with restaurants, hotels, shops and casinos. (His readers LOVE coupons).

And he got good press. Ironically, it was his lack of cash and background in publishing that helped him there: "It wasn't very polished, and the old-time travel press (used to being wined, dined and lied to) loved that," he said.

"I played it like a game. How far could it grow?," he recalled.

Far. The Advisor has 20,000 members from all 50 states and several foreign countries, and the Web site gets 120,000 unique visitors and something like 15 million hits per month.

When Curtis arrived in Las Vegas, an old era was just breathing its last. He remembers the "mobbed up" Vegas. "I didn't know them but I saw them, I knew who they were," he said. "In those days, all the money was made in the casino — 'the joint.' There were tons of bargains, all designed to get you into the casino."

The line of demarcation, he believes, came in November 1989, with the opening of Steve Wynn's Mirage resort. Suddenly there were chic restaurants, shopping malls, clubs, different kinds of shows.

A new, slick, corporate Las Vegas was born, a Las Vegas that reached out to the nongambler (or at least to the nongambling members of gamblers' families and who saw ways to make money without giving much away).

"The old Las Vegas was great and the new Las Vegas is great, too," Curtis says. "They're just different."

It sounds politic, but it's clear he means it.

Preparing to say goodbye to a visiting reporter, he stands on the deck of his office, looking toward the strip where the cranes are busy with yet another new resort. Below, a carful of tourists pulls up, looking for Advisor coupon books. They're from Hawai'i. They recognize him. And it's as though they've seen a celebrity. He calls down some friendly banter as they enter the building.

Even after all these years, he says, "I think Las Vegas is, without question, the most exciting city and maybe the most eclectic and maybe the most entertainingly diverse city there is. I fell in love with it, and I'm still in love with it ... Everywhere I go, even if I have a good time, I want to come home."

Reach Wanda A. Adams at wadams@honoluluadvertiser.com.