The Last Honest Place in America: Poker Is Pure Social Darwinism a Revelation of Character as Well as Capacity. and Where Better to Play It Than Las Vegas, a City That Is Brutally Upfront about Its Desire to Separate You from Your Money?

By Flusfeder, David | New Statesman (1996), August 20, 2012 | Go to article overview
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The Last Honest Place in America: Poker Is Pure Social Darwinism a Revelation of Character as Well as Capacity. and Where Better to Play It Than Las Vegas, a City That Is Brutally Upfront about Its Desire to Separate You from Your Money?


Flusfeder, David, New Statesman (1996)


I once knew a girl who had grown up in a small town on the North Island of New Zealand. The town was populated by descendants of Scottish Protestants, who had established a place of sober, hard-working respectability. On Friday and Saturday nights, the young people would go to a barn outside the town limits, where there would be music and dancing and the young men would get drunk and fight each other. None of this spilled over back into the town: no one would say anything about the bruises on the butcher boy's face; and if a couple had found an intimacy at a dance, that wouldn't alter the formality of their relations during the rest of the week.

This is how Protestant countries work. Civic spaces are designed for polite, hard-working respectability, and young people let off steam and the sinners do their sinning in self-contained places outside town limits. The US is a very Protestant country, and Las Vegas is its barn.

Actually it's two barns, a couple of miles away from each other. The original one, Fremont Street, Downtown, is a ramshackle place. Apart from the slickly remodelled Golden Nugget, the one-time Glitter Gulch is a couple of shabby blocks of casinos and bars and souvenir shops covered by a canopy and blasted at night with music and air-conditioning and lights ("The Fabulous Fremont Street Experience!"), surrounded by slums and bail bondsmen storefronts. The other, the Strip, is the gaudy place of postcards and movies and the "Welcome to Las Vegas" sign, where high-rise casino-resorts stretch out along Las Vegas Boulevard.

It all began with a 1930s gambling roadhouse. The Club Pair-O-Dice was builtup in the 1940s and 1950s with oil and Mafia money, and properly established itself after the Cuban Revolution of 1959 shut down America's playground. The mountains behind, and the intolerable heat, remind any summer visitor who is foolish enough to stray too far from air-conditioning that this is a place in the middle of the desert without any reason to be, except for cupidity, profit, pleasure and need.

In July, I'd driven in from LA in the company of two old friends. We followed Interstate 15 through the Mojave Desert shimmer of heat, truck stops and Joshua trees and the occasional sun-blasted forsaken town. Both of my companions are Londoners who have been living in Los Angeles for about is years. One has made it big in Hollywood as a writer and producer of network television shows. The other is a professor of the history of science at California State University.

The Money and I had planned this trip some months ago. The Professor had joined us at short notice, leaving his wife and two small children behind. The Professor's wife had been unresisting, maybe even encouraging. Because this is America, it is understood that men need to get together, to drive through the desert, that men need to drink cocktails and argue about politics in the Bellagio bar. But I wasn't here to let off steam. I'd come to Vegas for a meeting of the board of the UK Poker Federation, and to take part in the World Series of Poker (WSOP).

The WSOP began in 1970 as a publicity stunt, as so many things in Vegas do. The Downtown casino owner Benny Binion invited the six best players in the world--most of them Texan--to compete against each other in cash games in several variants of poker, after which they voted on who had played the best. Most voted for themselves but after the second-place votes were tallied, Johnny Moss was declared the champion. The following year, seven players returned for a freeze-out tournament, in which players put up $5,000, received the same number of chips and the player who had all the chips at the end was the winner. This was again Johnny Moss.

The game that was played was Texas Hold 'em ("the Cadillac of poker games"). Each player is dealt two hole cards, followed by a round of betting, after which the "flop" of three communal cards is dealt, followed by a fourth card, the "turn", and then the final communal card, the "river", with a round of betting after the reveal of each communal card.

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The Last Honest Place in America: Poker Is Pure Social Darwinism a Revelation of Character as Well as Capacity. and Where Better to Play It Than Las Vegas, a City That Is Brutally Upfront about Its Desire to Separate You from Your Money?
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