Chicago Bears fan Matt Pusateri reacts during the fourth quarter of the Super Bowl on Sunday at Lucky's Tavern. Pusateri, of Washington, D.C., and a friend travel to Las Vegas every year to watch the Super Bowl. The Bears failed to mount a comeback after the Indianapolis Colts took the lead in the second quarter. Photos by Samantha Clemens. Lupe and Harry Schoffstall, center, of Chicago watch the first quarter of the Super Bowl at Red Rock Resort. Maggie Belote, a cocktail server at The Orleans, gets orders for people waiting for the Super Bowl kickoff on Sunday. Former Chicago Bear player William "The Refrigerator" Perry signs an autograph Sunday for Jeff Kaplan, far right, at the NADA convention at the Las Vegas Convention Center.

The line for the sports book at The Orleans snaked dozens deep before the Super Bowl on Sunday.

Nearby, there was no waiting to get a signed picture and photo taken with scantily clad Raiderettes. Their silver pompoms sat on a nearby table.

Greed was the sin of choice in Las Vegas on Sunday as the Indianapolis Colts played the Chicago Bears in the NFL title game. And out-of-town fans, gamblers and locals looking for a party atmosphere filled bars and sports books around town.

Super Sunday is the largest sports betting day of the year for many casinos.

The groaning and cheering began with the game's coin flip because some had wagered on which way that would go.

The fact that the opening kickoff was run back for a touchdown was cheered and jeered not only because it was an exciting (or stunning) start, but also because it immediately settled proposition bets on who would score the first touchdown and whether a kickoff would be returned for a touchdown.

And near the end of the game, the Colts' decision not to kick an easy field goal stirred up bettors. That final field goal would have made winners out of the people who wagered that the score would add up to more than 48. Instead, the final was Colts 29, Bears 17.

Rooting for one team or the other simply to win was reserved for sentimentalists and those who think Peyton Manning is cute in a dorky sort of way. What counts in Vegas is whether your team "covers" -- wins by more points or loses by fewer points than the spread decreed by the gambling gods at the time of your wager.

But if, as some critics say, the Super Bowl is all about hype and is watched more for the commercials than the game, who cares? Las Vegas is nothing if not about hype.

Where else can you attend the National Automobile Dealers Association convention during the morning before the NFL championship and have William "The Refrigerator" Perry, a member of the Chicago Bears team that won Super Bowl XX in 1985, sign a miniature helmet for you for $25 and talk to your son on your cell phone if you ask nicely.

While other booths at the convention offered squishy footballs or chocolate chip cookies, the folks at Carfax hit the publicity jackpot by booking The Fridge, one of the most popular players on the team that performed "The Super Bowl Shuffle."

"It couldn't have worked out any better," said Chris Basso, media relations manager for Carfax, who admitted the company had booked Perry well in advance of the Bears' playoff run. "He hasn't been bigger in 21 years."

Plus, the proceeds from those helmets are going to Opportunity Village, Basso said.

Conventioneers and their families were lined up to meet Perry.

"It's a big party, and more fun than home, even though my friends are there," said Phil Brown, an exhibitor who wore the jersey of Bears Hall of Fame running back Walter Payton under his corporate shirt that bore a logo for something called LeaseScan

"This is the best place you can be, other than the Super Bowl itself," said Mark Johnson of Las Vegas.

Perry gave a prediction of a Bears win. And when asked for a score, he dusted off a sports cliche that doesn't apply in Las Vegas. "By one or by 50, it doesn't matter, as long as you win the game," he said.

When asked whether he had money on the game, he said he doesn't gamble. "But I love Las Vegas," he added.

Regardless of their feelings about Las Vegas, countless others were loving gambling on the big game.

At 6 a.m., people were reserving tables at The Orleans sports book. By 7 a.m., John Bohlig and a host of family members occupied one of the tables.

"This is Super Bowl central," said the 34-year-old Chicagoan.

He said he was ready to survive a Las Vegas bout of partying expected to last at least 12 hours because he had "been training for six months." His regimen: a greyhound (a grapefruit and vodka), then beer, a rum and Coke for the caffeine, then back to beer.

Back at the Raiderette table, Jennifer and Brittany dutifully signed pictures at a leisurely pace and endured the occasional leering man.

"Who's going to say no to Las Vegas," Jennifer said. "It's an honor and a treat."

She also let loose a couple of one-liners that sounded well-rehearsed.

"They might not be Raider fans, but they're definitely Raiderette fans," Jennifer said.

As for the sports book drawing longer lines leading up to the game, the Raiderettes had no hard feelings.

"As much as cheerleading means to us, it's all about the athletes," Jennifer said.

Don't tell that to the handful of keno players at the Red Rock Resort about midway through the first quarter.

It was standing-room only in the sports book, where three massive screens showed the game. Croupiers at empty craps tables were straining their necks to check out the game or the commercials.

And don't say that casinos can't be neighborhood bars for locals.

"This is my second living room," said James Rogers of Las Vegas as he wandered the sports book with a stuffed bear on his cap and a Chicago jersey on his back.

His wife was wearing a Colts jersey.

He put down money on the Bears. That wound up being a mistake that his wife could have countered for him -- if only he had let her bet on her team.