Keyboard Quarterbacks

By Mark La Monica

And you thought this poker craze had reached the saturation point, what with seemingly every possible television station airing some sort of Texas Hold'em show?

Guess again.

Try standing eight-deep in horseshoe formation some 30 feet away from the final table at a World Series of Poker event just to watch Phil Hellmuth win his 10th bracelet.  Mind you, you can't see his cards, or anyone else's, because the lipstick camera is for television purposes only. (It's also the biggest reason the poker phenomenon has exploded like the Fourth of July in Fort Pedro, S.C.) This takes away half the fun of watching poker be played by other people.

You can also not hear any of the snide comments Hellmuth is famous for, which takes away the other half of the fun of watching poker be played by other people.

But there I was, for a few minutes anyway, inside the convention center at the Rio Hotel & Casino in Las Vegas last week. Staring. Wondering what cards he had. Wondering what cards the other players had. Wondering why the hell I even cared.

After two minutes of paralyzed staring, I came to my senses and left. I walked around, curious to understand the world I had just stepped into.

The WSOP, whether it's the Main Event or just some Seven-Card Stud Hi-Lo or Razz or Omaha or whatever, is huge. The fields for these events have more than doubled in recent years. ESPN's coverage and regular people such as Chris Moneymaker and Greg "Fossilman" Raymer winning the Main Event helped sell the game to the masses.

It's made television stars out of professional poker players. Men, and a few women, who were once known in a small circle of colleagues, can't survive a break from a tournament without autograph requests and general "How ya doin?s" and "What's up, guy?s" from random people.

Proximity creates a more intimate relationship with the fan than other events. It parallels golf and tennis, where the professionals often walk among and easily mingle and engage the fans.

As I watched with DJ friend Blasmaster Scurvy Scurv, who was rooting for his 10-percent stake in a friend to pay off big, an older fella struck up a conversation. He flashed an autograph from Howard Lederer, a poker pro known as "The Professor." Too stunned to ask a follow-up question, I turned around and walked away wondering what was wrong with people in this world.

Since the WSOP is held at the convention center inside the Rio and there is way too much money at stake, it made sense to see a number of online gaming sites set up promotional booths and lounges. It's all about marketing, and the WSOP would appear to be the biggest non-electronic outlet to reach potential clients.

All the companies hired attractive young women to walk around and peddle their stuff. The companies' stuff, that is.  One young woman was so attractive, so thin and so airbrush-perfect, I thought she was a cardboard cutout. When she turned her head to talk to someone, I stutterstepped. 

From the online gaming sites and the exposed flesh that doesn't require a dollar being placed in unsavory places to the overt advertising of gambling, the hallways of the Rio resembled a street fair in Gomorrah. Strange world, this World Series of Poker.