Now that the 2025 WSOP is in the books, it’s time to reflect.
First Off, Hats Off
Congratulations to the new World Champion, Michael “The Grinder” Mizrachi! Earlier in the summer he won an astounding fourth Poker Players’ Championship bracelet and then, of course, the Main Event for the tidy sum of ten million dollars, clearing out a final table in record time, a speed only to be surpassed by the rate at which he then ascended into the Poker Hall of Fame.
In case you missed the bulletin, once Grinder insta-called John Wasnock’s all-in to win the tournament, he was insta-inducted into the Hall, following a very brief whisper campaign into Jack Effel’s ear by Daniel Negreanu and Phil Hellmuth.
Now, clearly, Grinder deserves to be there among the likes of Johnny Moss, Doyle Brunson and Stu Ungar. And, if such a legend of the game rose from the grave, staggered into the Horseshoe and said, “Put Grinder in the Hall, now,” we’d all say, “Zombie Puggy Pearson is right!”
But the actual whisperers, great poker players to be sure, were mere mortals (white magic notwithstanding), and the subverting of normal nominating and voting processes seems, at best, a well-intended outpouring of love and respect, but at worst, cronyism.
Yes, it was an injustice that Mizrachi wasn’t even among the nominated players for this year, but he would certainly have been nominated next summer and clearly he would have had the votes. Why not let due process happen?
Halls of Fame should be independent bodies beyond reproach. Since the Poker Hall of Fame can’t do what baseball does and ban players for gambling, they should at least preserve the integrity of their own reasonable rules.
By the way, this isn’t a criticism of Grinder, who himself said, “I could have waited ‘til next year.” (My feelings exactly.) I guess it’s a criticism of WSOP V.P. Jack Effel, who could have put his foot down by saying, “No, let’s do it the right way.”
Poker brats would have cried, like they always do when they don’t get what they want when they want it, but Grinder and all the rest of us would have had his induction ceremony to look forward to next summer.
A Great Man said, “Poker Is War.”
Legend has it that that man was Doyle Brunson, and of course he was right – poker is war, metaphorically speaking.
But like most metaphors, the further you stretch it, the staler it becomes, and Phil Hellmuth announcing to the world that Grinder’s impromptu induction into the Hall was a “Battlefield Promotion” makes me want to, well, court martial and hang the seventeen-time bracelet winner.
Yes, I did just extend the military metaphor even further, but I’m willing to fall on that grenade to make my point, which is actual soldiers fight and die in actual battles around the world and we are playing a fun, if intense, game of cards.
Phil’s remark is tacky and tone deaf, reminiscent of when, at one past Main, he made one of his patented entrances actually dressed as Patton. The only thing more cringe than watching Hellmuth enter on Day 1 is watching his TV show, Hellmuth’s Home Game.
Skill, Sweat and Luck
In taking down the Main Event in a field of 9,735 players, Grinder demonstrated that he has impeccable card sense, vast experience from playing millions of poker hands and a really cool mom.
But besides know-how, putting in the reps, and good genes, all poker players need to get lucky at some point, especially in giant field tournaments, and Grinder was no exception.
He got lucky to come back from being down to less than four big blinds on day 8, and he was lucky to hit an ace on the river when he was all in with AK vs. KK against Final Table chip leader Wasnock.
His good fortune continued when he spiked a king on the turn to beat the jacks of Adam Hendrix and further pad his stack on the march to his now seemingly inevitable victory.
But Grinder’s true lucky break: he won ten million dollars and gets to pay taxes on it this year instead of next!
As you have no doubt heard, the spending bill that passed in Congress last month is going to punitively tax gambling winnings and, somehow, losses, to such a degree that making a living as a poker player, or even enjoying recreational play, is going become too expensive for even the deep pockets who can afford a $7 banana at the WSOP.
Yes, you could say this tax sitch pertains only to American players. But of course, if American poker, played legally in casinos, is crippled, then next years’ WSOP will be a shell of its former self, and the whole affair will soon relocate to Macau, or online, or on Mars, which currently has a very friendly tax rate of zero percent.
They also have zero percent breathable air, but nobody knows how to pump oxygen into a casino like Caesar’s Entertainment.
Kabrhel, Kasouff, Ka-ching….
Earlier this year, as President Donald Trump humiliated Ukraine’s Volodymyr Zelenskyy in the now infamous Oval Office presser, he said, “This is going to make great television.”
As a master of the medium, he was correct. The meeting produced the squirmy, unpleasant, peak uncomfortableness that is impossible to look away from and therefore gets great ratings.
Similarly, the antics of Will Kassouf and, to a lesser extent, Martin Kabrhel, during the just-concluded WSOP made for great television as well, which is to say, the world, and poker, would be better off without it.
And yet many viewers, myself included, were drawn to the stream, shared clips and will watch the recalibrated coverage that CBS Sports Net has begun to air.
Kassouf, with his rambling discourse, endless stalling, and blaming the floor for his self-inflicted wounds, should probably run for office because he knows how to attract a crowd. Also, it would be great if he got out of poker.
Watching Kassouf, I missed the days when Mike “the Mouth” Matusow was the most voluble exponent of the talking game. Feeling nostalgic, I sought out his podcast, The Mouthpiece with Mike Matusow and listened.
In the pod, The Mouth talks about his week in poker and sports betting, argues politics with callers, talks to his cat and name drops. Guess what, I no longer miss Mike the Mouth. He is more interesting and funnier than Kassouf or Kabrhel, but that is a low bar.
And finally, a callback…
What did one zombie poker player say to the other? I hate it when the river comes and my hand falls apart.
