The World Series of Poker starts in a matter of hours, but the most exciting two months in mind sports feels like it’s been going on all spring.
I am inundated with poker-related information year-rounder, but starting in late March, there is seemingly No-Limit to how thoroughly poker takes over my Instagram feed. Jonathan Little and Jaka Coaching jaka for a position in my email inbox, each offering a tournament course to help me get ready for the WSOP.
They are joined by all the other WSOP preppers: poker players, poker vloggers, poker influencers, even lowly poker writers.
Poker preppers are just like regular preppers, except rather than forecasting End Times, they’re complaining about start times. Instead of recommending freeze-dried meals with 30-year taste guarantees, they are writing articles with titles like “Top Five Places to Eat Healthy in Vegas,” a list comprised of a couple of restaurants, Whole Foods, and the cardiac care unit at Mountain View Hospital.
WSOP prep is an industry, presenting you with endless opportunities to prepare: your game, your mixed game, your mental game, your meta game, your lunch.
If you are in poker and have the Internet (which you must because you are reading this and there’s never been a print edition of Pokerati, available on newsstands everywhere, except for the special issue commemorating the death of Phil Hellmuth’s super ego), then you know what I’m talking about.
ClubWPT Gold is now also ostensibly in the prep game since shifting from a fake sweepstakes poker site to a fake training poker site. They have been stalking me relentlessly on Facebook, which has served me up so much gambling adjacent content, I started calling it Facebookie.
On the Kevin Hart Roast formerly known as Twitter, Phil Galfond has life-changing advice for me that isn’t just about poker. It’s about my life. My happiness. My sanity. And my ability to pay 2,500 bucks for a two-day seminar with Phil and some other millionaires.
If you’re thinking, “Hey, you chose to follow these people, those companies, those unregulated online casinos,” you are not wrong. I am very interested in poker, but the algorithm has supercharged my choices, and now I live in an information bubble, an echo chamber, a cultural silo.
As a result, in the last presidential election, I voted for Leo Margets. She’s not even an American citizen! My vote was totally wasted.
I used to rely on Facebook to tell me whose birthday was today, but now that useful info is lost in a list of notifications from Upswing Poker and pizza reviews from Dave “one bite, everybody knows the rules” Portnoy. Truthfully, the only relief from all this comes when I finally take off my Meta glasses. Or so I thought. Then this came in the U.S. Mail:
A direct mail pitch from the WSOP itself, sent to my home. “My home! Where my wife sleeps, and my children play with their toys!” Okay, we have dogs, but still, I was shocked, shocked to find gambling in my mailbox. And so ends the classic movie quote section of the column.
WSOP vs. the IRS
Will the punitive U.S. tax law on gambling, which went into effect this year, mean fewer players at the 2026 World Series of Poker? I hope so.
A return to 1980’s size fields is pretty much my only shot at winning the Main Event. But I don’t think there’s going to be a significant drop off.
First of all, the players that come from outside the U.S. are legion. Secondly, even big American pros who say they are semi-retiring because of the tax sitch are semi-retiring rather than retiring because they still want bracelets. They will show up.
Thirdly, we recreational players, the lifeblood of poker, are like the honey badger; we don’t give a flop. We’re coming to Vegas to play for the recreation of it all. If the game plan goes haywire and we win a bracelet and/or a lot of money, the tax issue will be unproblematic.
For example, let’s say I spend a total of 5,000 dollars on buy-ins and end up winning the Mystery Millions. I’ll have to pay taxes on $995,500, instead of on $995,000. Who cares? Besides, once I permanently leave the country to become an International Man of Mystery Bounties, the IRS will have to find me to get a dime.
The final reason that the unfair tax law isn’t going to affect numbers at the WSOP is that Ultimate Fighting Championship CEO Dana White is now lobbying the White House to rescind it. Will his effort work?
Maybe. Trump loves to help his friends, and he and White are very close. They’re promoting a fight together on what used to be the White House lawn to commemorate July 4th. It will mark 250 years of independence from England and one year from NATO.
I don’t know if White will be successful or not, but my guess is that Trump will say, “Sorry, Dana, I wish I could help you, but the IRS needs that money to pay the people who stormed the Capitol on January 6.”
Let’s All Patch Things Up
The patch controversy has already been covered masterfully in these pages by my colleague, Ivan Potocki. So I will only ask these questions:
— Can we all agree that a permissible patch be sewn over Will Kassouf’s mouth?
— And, speaking of logos, can the Horseshoe Casino logo that is plastered everywhere at the WSOP be fixed?
A good luck horseshoe is supposed to be in one of two positions: facing straight up to act as a vessel of good fortune for the superstitious fool, or facing straight down to rain good fortune upon the punter.
The horseshoe in the logo for the casino in question is pointing neither straight up nor straight down. It is upright but tilted back and to the left. Back and to the left. Back and to the left. Like JFK’s head in the limousine. What kind of good luck symbol is that?
Have a great week. Hopefully, I’ll see you at the WSOP.
