Bigger Deal

 I grew up in a crossword solving house. Home from work, my dad like to settle down in his armchair with the Telegraph or the Times, chewing the end of his pencil as he decoded the cryptic intentions of the setter. It was a contest every evening, a battle between two formidable brains. He enjoyed a good clue, applauding all the famously devious ones like "gegs" (9,4)" or "IJKLMN" (5). He especially loved the weirdness of a good anagram – for instance the oxymoron of CARTHORSE and ORCHESTRA – and even devised a few clues of his own to baffle us at the dinner table. One I remember was "D-d-dog" (8) and another was "Landlady’s request is sinister" (7).^[a]

Anyway, I mention this because I am currently trying to work out one of poker’s greatest puzzles. Namely, why are the directors and security staff at WSOP events so hostile to the press? At the recent WSOP in Las Vegas, things got so bad that most blog sites simply gave up attempting to cover the main event. There were even complaints of heavy-handed tactics by security men, but a predictably deaf ear was turned by the organisers, Harrah’s.

Sadly, this boorish attitude is being replicated at the WSOPE in London, where I have just spent a couple of days. At the Fifty St James cardroom, most members of the press were fenced off from the action, and had no chance of writing about the dramas unfolding. Occasionally, we’d hear a cry of "All in and call!", but – being twenty yards away - had no idea what cards were turned over on the baize. It was very frustrating.

At the Empire in Leicester Square, four of the seventeen tables were upstairs, and it was possible to get a decent view from the rail. But god forbid if you actually leaned in too close to the action. Then the bouncers, a group of men who had clearly read one too many Andy McNab books, couldn’t wait to push you back. Now, I might understand their behaviour if the £1,000,000 first prize was actually sitting on the table, but is it really necessary to come on like a SWAT team when somebody gets an inch closer than everyone else to the back of Willie Tann’s head?

The poker players I spoke to during the break said they had no problems with reporters or cameramen. In fact, they praised the poker press for being polite, knowledgeable about the game, and always quiet when there’s a big hand in progress. I could only get two members of the casino staff to offer an opinion. The first said – with an admirably straight face - that "extra people crowding around the tables could represent a hazard if there was a fire." (A sudden blaze that would presumably be started by Doyle Brunson’s crutch catching alight…) The second implied that journalists might peek at a players’ hole cards from behind and then signal information to a rival. Essentially, then, he was saying that we are cheats.

At the start of the Rugby World Cup, many news bureaux were so appalled by the measly access they were being offered that decided to boycott the event. After a few yelps from the sponsors, the organisers caved in. Perhaps the only answer is to try something similar with Harrah’s.

But we may have a tricky job on our hands. As I walked away, I observed one of the bouncers telling a man that he had to leave the area of play. No spectators were allowed beyond the rope. No exceptions. Sorry, pal, you’ve got to move.

And if Gus Hansen can’t get past them, what chance do the rest of us have…?

[a] Oh, by the way, for non-crossword fans, gegs is "scrambled eggs", d-d-dog is Cerberus, the landlady’s request translates into noirish (as in "No Irish"), and IJKLMN – being the letters H to O - is "water". Back