"We used to mail out CDs": Miles Saacks remembers the Wild West of early online gaming
Before online casinos were truly “online,” before affiliate programmes became business units, and before regulation gave the industry its current shape, there was a young South African named Miles Saacks, mailing out CDs to strangers around the world, hoping they’d install a casino on their desktop.
Now a senior affiliate manager based in Malta, Miles sat down with SiGMA News to look back on his journey through iGaming’s early, chaotic years with a mix of nostalgia and honesty. “I’ve been in the industry for about 23 years,” he says. “It was my second or third job after leaving university, and I’ve stayed in it ever since.”
When online casinos were not quite online
Back in the early 2000s, online gambling wasn’t as simple as visiting a website. “It was online, but you had to download the software onto your PC first,” Miles recalls. “There wasn’t a proper online version available—you had to physically install the casino from a CD.”
The entire casino—slots, table games, and whatever else Microgaming had to offer—came bundled in one installable programme. “We’d send out letters with CDs inside, saying ‘Download the casino today!’ That was our marketing. There was no browser-based play like there is now.”
He laughs when describing it: “It sounds ancient, but that was the reality. We sent out hundreds of thousands of CDs globally. It wasn’t glamorous, but it worked.”
South Africa as a marketing engine
In those early days, Miles worked out of South Africa—not as part of a licensed operator, but within a marketing company that supported overseas casino brands. “We weren’t officially a casino. We were more of a marketing arm,” he explains. “The company with the license would be overseas. We just found the players.”
This often meant working in a legal grey area. “At one time in South Africa, you had to keep quiet about working for a casino,” he admits. “It wasn’t regulated, and it wasn’t exactly illegal—but it definitely wasn’t mainstream.”
Despite the regulatory murkiness, the marketing was bold. “We’d get physical mailing lists from affiliates,” Miles says. “Sometimes they were gamblers, sometimes just the ’20 richest people in the world’—we didn’t know. We’d send out the CDs anyway. Sometimes it worked.”
Customer service in the trenches
Miles began his career in customer support, answering calls from confused or frustrated players. “We had to explain how random number generators worked,” he says. “People would scream, ‘It’s rigged!’ and we had to calm them down.”
And if you called, you wouldn’t have spoken to Miles—you’d have met “Michael King.” “We all used aliases back then,” he recalls. “We weren’t trying to be shady. We were just trying to stay under the radar.”
That call centre role laid the foundation for everything that came after. “I did a bit of everything—fraud, marketing, support. Eventually, I moved into affiliation, and I’ve stayed there for 20 years.”
The move to Malta
A turning point came when Miles was approached at a gaming conference with a job offer. “They said, ‘How would you like to work in Malta?’ I didn’t even know where Malta was,” he laughs. “Six months later, I was living there.”
Since then, he’s held senior roles—head of affiliates, head of department—but has recently stepped back. “After my stroke and three heart attacks, I had to put my health and family first,” he says. “The stress of senior titles just wasn’t worth it anymore.” However, he notes that he might one day return to it.
Then vs. now: a different industry entirely
Looking at how the industry has evolved, Miles doesn’t hold back. “When I started, it was all about signing up players and getting deposits. No one was asking for IDs or proof of funds,” he says. “Now it’s all regulation, compliance, KYC. It’s a totally different world.”
Even marketing has changed beyond recognition. “These days, people just plug a topic into ChatGPT and post the result on LinkedIn,” he says with some frustration. “Back then, you actually had to know what you were talking about.”
For Miles, honesty has always been key. “I don’t promise what I can’t deliver,” he says. “If it’ll take three weeks to get a banner, I’ll tell you upfront. People appreciate that. That’s how you build trust in this industry.”
The mental toll
The stress, however, has been immense. “It’s a money-driven industry,” Miles admits. “When the banking fails, when something breaks at 3 a.m., you’re the one getting called to fix it. That played a huge part in my health issues.”
Today, he works from home with a company that gives him balance. “They trust me to do my job, and I do it. But I’m doing Pilates twice a week—I’m looking after myself now.” He also found new hobbies: writing — he recently published Life in the Doghouse — and charity work.
But he’s critical of how companies approach staff wellbeing. “They’ll give you a ping-pong table and throw parties, but no one asks about your mental health until you’re hospitalised.”
A gaming legacy built on grit
Miles isn’t just recounting a career—he’s laying out a piece of iGaming history. “It was the Wild West. We were competing from different floors of the same building. But we got things done.”
And despite the stress, the health scares, and the shifting landscape, Miles still finds himself drawn to the gaming industry. “I’ve tried to leave a few times,” he admits, “but I keep coming back. It’s exciting. It’s unpredictable. It’s addictive.”
He smiles and adds, “I’m just very lucky to still be here, telling the story.”
