Haley Hintze is well-known in the poker community for her diligent, even obsessive, investigation into the Absolute Poker and Ulitmate Bet superuser scandals. Since Black Friday, Hintze has turned her sights on the Full Tilt Poker collapse, generating quite a number of informative articles and often digging up fascinating nuggets of backstory to fill in some of the blanks in the public Black Friday narrative.
Hintze today published a four-part story, "PPA Linked to Full Tilt / PokerStars SunFirst Bank Lobbying Effort" which uses emails generated in the SunFirst Bank investigation to fill in some gaps in the events that led up to Black Friday. Her full piece is worth a read by anyone interested in the state of poker lobbying efforts in the months leading up to both the Reid-Kyl bill and Black Friday.
There is a lot of information packed in the Hintze piece which is worth some reflection and comment once I return from vacation. However, I did want to address one point raised by Hintze:
Whether the lobbying effort grew out of SunFirst’s own desire for legal confirmation or whether it was the sensing of an opportunity by lawyers for Stars and Tilt remains unexplained, as does the mechanism of how John Pappas and the PPA became involved in lobbying on SunFirst’s behalf, to benefit Stars and Tilt. The lobbying effort appears to have begun in conjunction with Full Tilt joining the SunFirst operation, but the failure to procure a beneficial legal opinion from the Utah AG’s office did not cause Full Tilt to back out of the arrangement.
As part of my job, I work with a variety of industry groups on legislative and administrative rule proposals. What I do is not "lobbying" per se. [FN1]. My role is more in background support, typically drafting proposed bills or rules, then handing them off to lobbyists who get them submitted. I then provide comments on proposed amendments, and on occasion testify before committees or meet with legislators who have questions about the bill. In drafting bills or rules, I nearly always am coordinating with multiple interest groups; sometimes it's a gathering of the usual suspects for your industry, sometimes you find your group aligned with a mortal enemy group on an issue, and sometimes it's a kumbaya "for the good of everyone" compromise proposal hashed out in advance of submission.
Turning back to the SunFirst / PPA situation, I think it is important to be careful in describing what the PPA's role was in "lobbying" the Utah Attorney General for an opinion that online poker was not illegal, so processing payments was likewise not illegal. First, there is nothing improper about requesting an AG opinion on an issue, even one related to your own business. In fact, AG opinions (or similar processes, like advisory opinions or declaratory orders before certain agencies) are an important tool for businesses looking to clear up legal grey areas in advance of taking the risk of violating an unclear statute or rule.
Next, there is nothing inherently improper about the PPA assisting SunFirst (or any other poker industry business) in obtaining an AG opinion that online poker is legal, or that processing online poker payments is legal. It appears from the emails cited by Hintze that the PPA was advancing its usual arguments that poker is a game of skill, and that online poker was not illegal under state or federal laws as they existed post-UIGEA. Now the mere fact that the PPA's argument--which it had robustly developed by that point--supports SunFirst's business interests in processing online poker payments does not mean that the PPA was "lobbying for" SunFirst. Rather, the PPA was lobbying for online poker, and that argument was of benefit to SunFirst.
Finally, and perhaps most importantly, the mere fact the PPA coordinated its lobbying efforts with SunFirst does not mean there were any shady dealings between the two, or that the PPA was aware of the alleged bribes by SunFirst executive Jeremy Johnson (and Hintze explicitly disavows drawing the latter conclusion). The emails cited by Hintze certainly demonstrate coordination between SunFirst, the PPA, and their respective attorneys. But in lobbying efforts of this kind, such coordination is common--routine, in fact. It makes sense to divide the lobbying work based on the interests and expertise of the coordinating groups. Here, letting the PPA take the lead on the issue of the legality of online poker would make sense, given their expertise in developing those legal arguments. Further, submitting draft bills, rules, or, in this case, opinion letters, is also routine; no legislator or official wants to start from a blank slate, and those most interested in the issue will generally draft a proposal that suits their needs as a starting point for discussion. So the PPA's submission of materials to the AG in support of online poker in general, and in support of SunFirst's request for an opinion on the legality of payment processing specifically, is actually quite consistent with the activities of most issue advocacy groups.
The interesting issue raised by the emails reported by Hintze is whether the PPA had any deeper connection to SunFirst, Jeremy Johnson, or Chad Elie. The connections between PokerStars, Full Tilt, and the PPA have long raised questions in the minds of some poker players about whether the PPA is truly an independent advocacy group, or instead is a stalking horse for the online poker sites who provide most of the PPA's money. Hintze's article explores this issue in light of the new SunFirst emails, and the connections and timeline of events Hintze draws are quite intriguing (and something I will certainly re-read once I get back from vacation). Hopefully Hintze or others in the poker community can use these emails to shake loose more documents that can help fill in the remaining gaps in this backstory.
[FN1]. "Lobbying" carries a technical, legal definition of paid advocacy that is much narrower than the more generic use of that term. I will use "lobbying" in that broader sense of advocacy for a position by a group with an interest in a particular issue or industry.
As "Winter Storm Q" sweeps across the Midwest, the thoughts of the Ironmen of Poker turn to the bright lights of Vegas, with dreams of poker tables, casino pits, sports books, and alcoholic beverages dancing in their graying and balding heads. Next weekend will bring the Ironmen back to Poker Mecca to celebrate the high holy days of IMOP VIII—Revenge of the Nerds. D-bags beware! Hijinks will ensue!
"But wait!" cry the loyal followers of the Ironmen. "Whatever happened on IMOP VII—There Will Be Blood? Who won the Jacket Dinner? Who tilted Euro D-Bags while stacking mountains of chips? Who pulled the best "Ta Da"? Did the Honey Badger give a sh*t? Where's the freakin' trip report?"
You know that "What Happens Here, Stays Here" ad campaign for Vegas? Well, here's the dark truth behind all those wild tales of Vegas fun. The Vegas Strip is the high altar for the Gods of Degeneracy. Most who worship there leave happy, if hungover and poorer. But the dark gods demand the occasional sacrifice to maintain cosmic balance. For six IMOP expeditions, the Ironmen left Vegas as winners. Last March, instead of celebrating IMOP-VII, the entire Ironman crew sevened out.
Frankly, the Vegas admen have it all wrong. The happy stories of cashing sports investments, tossing back beverages, and tilting d-bags at the poker table are meant to be remembered and shared. It's the trips where the only stories are of parlays getting hooked, dealers drawing 5s on 16s against double downs, and monsterpottens getting shipped to d-bags hitting perfect-perfect that should be shrouded in a cone of silence. So it is, and so it shall be for IMOP-VII, henceforth known as the Dark Age.
Consequently, there will be no official trip report filed for IMOP-VII, no official record made of the hijinks and hilarity, the pranks and putdowns, the booze and bonding, that mark a successful Ironman outing. However, for the benefit of future poker archaeologists, here are some unfinished notes found on scraps of napkins buried deep in my iPhone notes app.
Tournament I:Stratosphere. In hindsight, having the official kickoff toast in the bar at the top of the Stratosphere while watching people intentionally jump over the side "for fun" may not have set the right tone for the trip.
Tournament II: Tropicana, with "Silly Shades" contest. Apparently the Honey Badger JuJu jinxed the poker room, causing it to close shortly thereafter.
Colt rocks the crazy shades at Tropicana.
Tournament III:Mirage, with "White Trash (wife beaters and tattoos)" contest. Not sure why, but the Mirage poker room has yet to call security on the Ironmen. Maybe this year. It's good to have goals.
The white trash crew at Mirage.
River Joe says, "Ta Da!"
Lucky. Duh.
The Debil.
Third World Poker Tour: Rooms on the Tour included Mandalay Bay, Luxor, Excalibur, Monte Carlo and ... Flamingo? Imperial Palace? Bellagio? Sure. Why not? If they weren't the actual sites, they should have been. Plus, good luck proving otherwise.
Jebedia gets some culture.
Tournament IV:Aria. Awesome room. Awesome tourney. Too awesome for the Ironmen who left steaming piles of poker dookie all over the room. Which may be why we can't have nice things.
Jacket Dinner:Stack at Mirage. Where do you think all the dookie came from? For lack of memory of actual results, and because history is an artificial construct created by the victors to establish a credible social narrative supporting their usurpation of power, the official Jacket Champion was Santa, with Lucky as First Loser.
Lucky looking suave.
Santa makes a statement:
"Even hookers won't hit on me tonight."
Champion: None. Had any Ironman so much as walked away from Vegas up a solitary credit on penny slots, he would have won the IMOP-VII Championship in a rout. For those of you keeping score at home, rumor has it that the ironically named rookie Fun Bobby won as Leastest Loser.
As two-time defending IMOP Champ Barbie might
have said if he wasn't busy 4-balling blackjack on credit
with a homeless guy by the Bally's pedestrian bridge:
Yesterday, the 2013 World Series of Poker schedule was announced. Most of the immediate reaction was focused on Event 51, the long traditional and recently controversial "Ladies Event". It's become one of poker's most hallowed rituals—a chorus of complaints that the Ladies Event is unfair discrimination against men and condescending to women, followed by a responsive chorus of defenses of the Ladies Event as a time-honored WSOP tradition that is a fun and entertaining event for women who would not otherwise play big buy-in tournament poker. Unfortunately, this ritual debate has devolved into zombie arguments, beaten to death, resurrected, and beaten to death again, lying in shallow graves waiting for the first full moon after the summer solstice for the magic incantation of "Ladies, shuffle up and deal!" to call them forth. [FN1].
I have long maintained that all the bickering about the Ladies Event just results in a lot of unhappiness being spread around the poker world. Men are unhappy they can't play the supposedly weaker competition in the Ladies Event, at least without WSOP officials hassling them. WSOP officials are unhappy that men are ruining the fun of their Ladies Event, so they feel compelled to get medieval on the spoilsports. Women are unhappy that men are ruining their day in the sun by playing in their event, unless, of course, they are unhappy that men aren't allowed to play in their event.
This year, even though we are four months out from the start of the Ladies Event, the old arguments got a new twist. As Shamus observed over at Hard-Boiled Poker, WSOP officials gave the ladies a Valentine of sorts this year, making the Ladies Event officially a $10K buy-in tournament, but giving all women a $9K "discount" on their entry fees. Or, from the other point of view, WSOP officials went up to all the male players considering entering the Ladies Event, looked them dead in their Blue Shark sunglasses, flipped them the bird, then spit on their baller shoes.
Of course, the "ladies' discount" is really just a cynical ploy by the WSOP to find some way to keep out those pesky, uncouth men who have been crashing the ladies' poker party the past few years. Openly banning men from the Ladies Event is illegal under anti-discrimination laws, while strong-arm tactics like threats of player suspensions have been ineffective (and probably illegal if implemented). But the "ladies' discount" gambit is an interesting ploy. Nevada law expressly allows "differential pricing, discounted pricing or special offers based on sex to promote or market the place of public accommodation.” Although intended to permit promotions like "ladies nights" to attract women to bars or clubs, the law appears drawn broadly enough to permit a "ladies discount" for a poker tournament. [FN2].
Based on my Twitter feed yesterday, it seems like many poker players and poker media members regard the "ladies discount" as a good idea. Change100 called the discount idea "genius", while Daniel Negreanu tweeted:
Bravo @WSOP addressing the issue of "men" playing ladies events by making it a $10k and giving ladies a $9k discount! Very clever!
Clever? Well, it certainly is legally creative; I give the WSOP that much. But as I often tell my clients, just because something is legal doesn't mean it's a good idea.
The problem with the WSOP's "ladies discount" gambit is that it sacrifices the WSOP's strategic position of moral superiority in the debate over the Ladies Event in exchange for the marginal tactical advantage of having a legal tool for preventing most men from playing in the event. Prior to this year, although the Ladies Event discriminated against men, the WSOP could defend the discrimination by pointing to the availabillity of numerous other open WSOP tournaments at similar low buy-ins which were available for critics of the Ladies Event. Now, the Ladies Event is nominally a $10K event for men, giving those men no realistic comparable WSOP tournament alternative to the de facto $1K tournament offered solely to women. Further, men entering the Ladies Event will have to pay ten times the entry fee for the same chance of winning the tournament as for women players; the WSOP presumably will not be kicking in an additional $9K to the prize pool for every women player, nor will men presumably be given ten times as many starting tournament chips. [FN3].Consequently, men who enter the tournament will be at a real disadvantage to women in terms of tournament equity and expected return on investment, and the WSOP intentionally wants men to be at such a disadvantage. Just think of the public relations nightmare for the WSOP when a man pays the $10K buy-in and makes the final table or even wins the event and spouts off in interviews: "Hey, I had to give these women 10-to-1 odds, and I still beat them!" Talk about a credibility killer.
The Ladies Event through its history hasn't continued as a women-only (or women-mostly) event because it is technically legal to exclude men. It has continued as a women-only event because of etiquette, because of gentlemen and their manners. Gentlemen have understood that demanding to play in the Ladies Event is simply rude, regardless of whether they could force the WSOP to let them play as a matter of right. The women-only "rule" to this point has been enforced simply by social agreement to let those women who wanted to play the Ladies Event enjoy their special tournament as a matter of courtesy. But changing the rules as the WSOP has done alters the etiquette equilibrium. The new "ladies discount" rule changes the landscape from a place where the WSOP carved out a small niche tournament for a group of women poker players, to a place where the WSOP is actively placing men at a significant disadvantage to women in a tournament. Those complaints of discrimination by men that once came off as petty whining suddenly take on a lot more gravity.
In my view, the "ladies discount" rule forfeits the WSOP's moral high ground in the Ladies Event debate. The WSOP is basically claiming it needs a 10-to-1 buy-in ratio to protect the Ladies Event, and by extension the ladies participating in the event, from all those awful male poker players. In my book, that implicit attitude changes the Ladies Event from charming to demeaning, and from celebratory to vitriolic. In a word, the rule is rude.
----------------------------------------------------------------------- [FN1] I have contributed my own zombie arguments to the Ladies Event debate, submitting a modest proposal for a compromise satisfactory to all sides, and making a demand for attention to a similar issue in the world of bingo.
[FN2] I haven't researched the relevant Nevada anti-discrimination laws personally, as I presume Caesars Entertainment (owner of the WSOP) has had its attorneys review and approve the ladies discount "promotion". However, I presume Nevada courts would likely put some boundaries on the sorts of marketing ploys that would be permissible under the differential pricing/marketing exception. For example, if the difference in pricing were so large as to render the goods or services at issue unavailable to men as a practical matter—say, a $500 gin and tonic, or a $10 million poker tournament entry fee—I could see a court holding that the price difference was an illegal pretext for discrimination. Here, even though the intent of the Ladies Event price differential is to encourage men to sit out, arguably the $10K entry fee is not inconsistent with a number of other WSOP events, and the fee is only ten times the price charged to women (equivalent to charging men $10 per drink, while women are charged only $1 per drink). In other words, although there is likely a line to be drawn between legal pricing and marketing differentials intended to encourage women to buy particular goods or services and illegal pretextual pricing and marketing differentials intended to exclude men entirely, the WSOP's $9K discount for women doesn't seem to have crossed it.
[FN3] It will be interesting to see if the Nevada gaming authorities would object to a purportedly open poker tournament where some players are forced to pay a substantially greater entry fee for the same chance to win the tournament as other players.
As has been my tradition over the past several years, I found myself in Vegas as part of my holiday travels. Because Vegas is not the usual Christmas season destination, the couple of weeks before Christmas through a few days after the holiday are typically the lull before the Vegas tourist storm that is kicked off by New Year's Eve. It's easy to find bargain basement airfares and free or cheap upscale Strip hotel rooms during that holiday period, making a Vegas holiday trip extraordinarily economical. So, after a few great days hanging with my family at my brother's new home in Denver, I took a three day solo poker journey to Vegas.
This trip, MGM's MLife program offered me two free nights at a variety of hotels. I opted for the MGM Grand, both for quality of accommodations and out of nostalgia for my first trip to Vegas. Way back in the summer of 2006, the MGM poker room was smack in the center of the recreational poker universe. The Venetian poker room had been open only a few months, and was beautiful, huge, and mostly empty. The Wynn poker room had been open only a year. The "Big Game" had long migrated from Mirage to Bellagio, with the latter catering to bigger-rolled players ($2/$5 was the lowest NLHE game) while the former was waging a myopic war against no-limit games, preferring to cater to limit hold-'em and stud players. Many of the other Strip casinos had small poker rooms, with 6-10 tables spreading mostly $1/$2 NLHE and $2/$4 LHE.
MGM's poker room filled a key niche in the '06 Vegas poker ecosystem—the big room that catered to the "little" players. With 23 tables in a prime location between the sports book and Centrifuge bar, poker players could find a game nearly 24/7, and a packed room with waiting lists was common most evenings and weekends. The room catered to low stakes players, offering mostly $3/$6 LHE and $1/$2 NLHE (with a bankroll friendly buy-in of $60-$200), and some soft $2/$5 NLHE games. The MGM poker room had a definite "young gun" vibe, filled with brash, drunk, noisy players. Fortunately, most of those players were terrible, and finding a juicy, profitable game was generally easy.
Although the Vegas poker scene has evolved considerably during the intervening years, in many ways the MGM poker room is remarkably unchanged. Other than the more traditional poker tables replacing the MGM's original unique tables with a marble "racetrack" edge, the MGM poker room still looks identical to how it looked back during my first Vegas trip. Same location, same mix of games, same generally bad players.
Which was a good thing. A lucrative thing. A shooting fish in a barrel thing, or at least some sort of fish-poker-profit metaphor thing.
Buy into MGM poker room cash game.
Identify fish.
???
Profit!
My first two evenings I played $1/$2 NLHE, and managed to turn healthy two buy-in profits with a pretty ABC style, with the occasional aggressive steal play or semi-bluff thrown in for good measure. The fishing wasn't quite as good as in 2006, but there were some nice poker trout swimming around more than willing to nibble at the lures I was casting.
Which brings us to the last evening of my vacation. It was a Friday night, which would have meant a busy poker room on an average weekend. But this was the Friday before New Years Eve, and tourists were starting to surge into Vegas to get a jumpstart on their holiday celebrations. Dinner and drinks with some friends, with a detour to the Mandalay Bay sports book to sweat the end of the Missouri loss to UCLA, caused me to get back to MGM a hour or so later than planned. Losing that Mizzou investment turned out to be a blessing in disguise.
The MGM poker room was jammed, so I put my name on both the $1/$2 and $2/$5 NLHE lists. After a short wait, a new $2/$5 game was opened, so I settled in for what I figured would be a pretty standard game. Rarely have I so badly underestimated a game's potential.
Come inside, the show's about to start. Guaranteed to blow your head apart.
The game was wild from the git-go. No hand went unraised, and 3-bets routinely found three or four callers. I decided to sit back and play an almond-broker strategy, looking to trap the aggros with a monster hand. From the table chatter, it sounded like many of the players were regulars, or at least had played together on prior occasions. The players included myself, two young ladies, and seven guys who fit every stereotype of young, hyper-aggro yahoos.
Ah yes, two ladies, seven virgins, and a Mule (me, natch—the token non-reproducing jackass).
Much of the early action was being driven by two of the aggro dudes and one of the young gals. The lady was quite attractive, if you're into that sort of thing, which I'm not. She clearly was trying to dominate the table, and the two aggro dudes were equally clearly trying to push her around. One of the three would raise or 3-bet nearly every hand preflop, and on most of those hands, at least two of the three would stick around for the flop. The three were fearless, perhaps even reckless, pulling out a steady series of ballsy bluffs, ridiculous draws, sick calls, and improbable catches to win bloated pot after bloated pot.
Adding to the intrigue was the fact that none of the three players respected the others. Many poker games involve a little good-natured joking and even the occasional taunt. These three players were openly critical of each other, making the game a bit uncomfortable. After a while, it became clearer that those three had played together the night before, and one of the guys had caught an improbable runner-runner to snap off the lady's big pocket pair. This yahoo of course taunted the lady that she hadn't bet big enough on the turn, giving him "pot odds" to call. From their description of the hand, I doubt that's the case. Nonetheless, the three continued to trade rapid-fire caustic barbs about the other's poker skills, with a couple of the other yahoos chiming in whenever the chatter lagged.
The action hadn't been going on long when I felt a tap on my shoulder. It was Rob, of Ante Up and All Vegas Poker fame. Rob likes to recount his poker exploits on his "Vegas and Poker" blog, sometimes at great length. Well, almost always at great length. But still, his posts are an enjoyable read for anyone wanting a low-stakes Vegas poker fix between trips to poker mecca. Rob said hello, then pointed at the aggro lady and whispered conspiratorially, "Do you know who that is?" I shook my head. Rob chuckled, "It's Prudence!"
Keep it cool. Keep it cool.
Ah yes, the famous (infamous?) Prudence, the mysterious Queen of the Degenerates who has been featured in a handful (assuming we're discussing the Hindu goddess Mahakali) of posts on Rob's blog. Rob had always painted a picture of Prudence as a show-stopping diva, a modern-day poker-playing Lili Von Shtupp. Prudence did not disappoint. The Prudence Poker Show was a true masterpiece, blending snarky commentary with blitzkrieg poker tactics, seasoned liberally with a never-ending stream of blue language. In the space of a couple of hours, I heard Prudence flirt with dealers, heckle players, and use both the F-bomb and the derivative MF-bomb as every part of speech. Someone outside the game might have viewed the proceedings as a trainwreck, but in reality it was more like Prudence was playing a game of chicken with the other players, only using taunts and chips rather than cars.
Or, if you like, Prudence was the Gypsy Queen performing on a guillotine (I can't confirm any Vaseline but it's sort of implied, I think).
While enjoying the Prudence Show, I also actually played some poker. I used my tight image to steal a few nice pots preflop with 3-bets and 4-bets scaring off the lagtards who were focused on their d*ck measuring contest. I got a courtesy double up early on when my Queens (obviously) turned a set and another player put me on a bluff. Later, I took down a nice pot with Tens; the flop was low trash, I bet, got check-raised, then shoved over the top, leading to a major tank-fold by one of the mouthy yahoos. My thinking was that the yahoo likely had a medium overpair or was bluffing with big cards; though a set was always possible, the board really wasn't scary enough to make a set ram and jam. The yahoo tanking was a bit odd for big cards, unless he was just Hollywooding. I don't know if my hand was good there, but I suppose it was also possible the yahoo had something like a pair-plus-draw and didn't want to play a big pot on the come. Chickensh*t. Rob was railing Prudence (well, not like that) and asked me about the hand later; it would be interesting to hear his perspective (after all, I apparently inspired Rob to play the Spanish Inquisition to great profit the very next night).
Unfortunately for Prudence, the poker gods were not viewing her performance favorably, and she took several tough beats while also picking a couple of bad spots to make big moves. Some might suggest her steady consumption of "carrot juice" on the rocks contributed to her run of bad fortune, but I think her night was mostly the typical downswing part of the LAG roller coaster. Prudence and I only really tangled once, when I called her preflop raise (along with half the table) on the button with 76 sooooted. Yahtzee! I loved the 7-6-2 rainbow flop. Apparently, Prudence did as well, leading out with a bet that was raised by one of the usual yahoos. I made a big raise, and Prudence pushed all-in, leading the yahoo to fold. I insta-called and rolled my hand. The board ran out trash, and Prudence mucked. I don't know what Prudence held, but I suspect a middle pocket pair or maybe something like A7 sooooted.
Eventually the jawing between Prudence and the two main yahoos took a turn from entertaining to nasty when one of the guys started taunting Prudence after the other yahoo hit a lucky suckout to stack her, reminding Prudence of a similar suckout in their session the night prior when the yahoo's Q6s luckboxed a rivered boat to beat Prudence's altos dos pairs of KQ. The yahoo called Prudence an "effing moron". Prudence suggested the yahoo take his Q6s and do something unnatural that would likely kill his hand, at least in most nicer poker rooms. Suddenly the yahoo was calling for the floor, whining about Prudence's language (which although out of bounds for most tables, was hardly all that objectionable given the general chatter at the table to that point). A rather humorless floor gave a warning to the entire table about language. Of course, Prudence let loose another F-bomb moments later, and the same yahoo was again screaming for the floor.
What a scene! What a scene!
Prudence defused the situation by racking up for the night; probably a wise decision. I stayed for another couple of hours, building up a nice stack with a combination of good tight play and a fortunate run of cards. But the game was no fun without Prudence; just a bunch of social misfits grinding out pots with the only talk being discussion of poker strategy (most of it rather ill-conceived). FML, as Prudence might have said. I racked up a four buy-in profit, then played $1/$2 NLHE and drank for a couple of hours, having a lot of fun with the low stakes crowd while padding my profit for the trip.
I've seen a lot in various Vegas poker rooms. Drunk Englishmen taunting pit bosses and tackling me at the table. Grown men eating ribs at the table, after pulling them out of a jacket pocket. But the Prudence Poker Show was an instant classic. So on your next trip to Vegas, head on over to the MGM poker room.
EDITED (26 JAN 2013):Added in detail re the Prudence-Yahoo throwdown to reflect Prudence's reminder in the comments as to the events in question. Her comments was dead on balls accurate re what the yahoo said.
“Heresy is the eternal dawn, the morning star, the glittering herald of the day. Heresy is the last and best thought. It is the perpetual New World, the unknown sea, toward which the brave all sail. It is the eternal horizon of progress.
Heresy extends the hospitalities of the brain to a new thought.
I happen to enjoy quaffing the occasional refreshing, medicinal beverage known as the Moscow Mule. In fact, I'm something of a Mule evangelist, spreading the good news of the Mule from South Carolina to Denver, and from Vegas to Canada. But I am also a Mule traditionalist, hewing strictly to the time-honored Mule recipe: good vodka, ginger beer, fresh-squeezed lime juice, and ice cubes, served in a copper mug. No mint, no bottled lime juice, no sugar or simple syrup, no crushed ice, no garnish other than a lime wedge, no highball glass. An orthodox Mule, if you will.
Part of my Christmas gift to my brother and sister-in-law,
so they can fight scurvy in Denver. Using cubed ice, of course.
Unfortunately, the more I evangelize for the cult of the Mule, the more Mule heresies I encounter. Some are minor, like flavored vodkas offered in a number of Des Moines establishments. Many of these "Mule Ranchers"—sort of a cross between a Mule and a Jolly Rancher—are actually quite tasty, particularly those that stick to fruit flavors which complement the ginger flavor of the Mule—pear, black cherry, apple, and peach seem to work well. Other heresies are more fundamental. "Drug Mules" swap out the vodka for silver tequila, while "Kentucky Mules" get their kick from good bourbon. Perhaps the most esoteric Mule heresy I've encountered was a "Tokyo Mule", based on dry saké and yuzu juice. All were highly unorthodox, yet all were very refreshing.
Maybe "heresy" is too strong a word for these mutant Mules. In a way, these Mule variants are more like a cover song or tribute album, putting a new spin on an old classic. Sometimes, the cover song introduces the listener to the original performer, like Metallica did for me with their cover of Diamond Head's "Am I Evil?". Sometimes, the cover version puts a whole new spin on the classic, rendering the original song accessible to a new generation (e.g., the Moulin Rouge remake of LaBelle's "Lady Marmalade" by Missy Elliott, Christina Aguilera, P!nk, Mya, and Lil' Kim) or a different audience (e.g., Travis Tritt's excellent countrified cover of the Eagles' classic "Take It Easy", or in the other direction, Carrie Underwood's great pop cover of the already amazing Martina McBride country classic "Independence Day"). For some songs, numerous wildly divergent renditions of the same song may be equally inspiring; witness the variety of approaches to Leonard Cohen's classic "Hallelujah" taken by artists like Jeff Buckley, John Cale, Rufus Wainwright, and k.d. lang (my personal favorite). In rare cases, a cover version may actually elevate a good song to something transcendent—Johnny Cash covering the Nine Inch Nails' hit "Hurt", or Whitney Houston's iconic rendition of the Dolly Parton hit "I Will Always Love You" (Entertainment Weekly recently published an intriguing behind-the-scenes story about how Houston came to perform the song for The Bodyguard).
Of course, not every cover song is an artistic success. In fact, most cover songs probably hover somewhere between William Hung'sAmerican Idol rendition of "She Bangs" and Billy Joe Jim Bob and Ellie Mae belting out a tequila-aided "Friends In Low Places" duet during karaoke night at Finnegan's Corner Tap. When it comes to Mules, often the heretical variations from the Platonic Mule more closely resemble "playing Kenny G on a kazoo" than "Kenny G covering Charlie Parker" (an abomination in its own right).
The most common unforgivable Mule sins are adding sugar or simple syrup to the mix, or garnishing with mint. Look, mojitos have earned their place in the scurvy-fighting refreshment pharmacopoeia. But sugar and spice do not make everything else nice, at least not in my copper mug. Speaking of which, a Mule served in anything other than a copper mug may well be refreshing, but it's like serving a fine red wine in jelly glasses—it will do in a pinch, but the ambience is lost (you'll have to trust me on this).
Which brings us to the ultimate Mule heresy—crushed ice. When sharing the Mule recipe with Otis, I felt confident I had conveyed the central importance of cubed ice. In fact, I said, "Ice cubes—must be 2 cm per side, made from water drawn during a new moon from the Ogallala aquifer (PRO TIP: Any ice from the closest freezer will work fine)." That's right: "Ice cubes". Good lord, could it be any clearer?!?
Nonetheless, Otis fancied himself the equal of Daniel Webster and proceeded to orate for his Mule soul, throwing down the gauntlet and claiming a mixology loophole rendered crushed ice superior to ice cubes. As Exhibit A in his impassioned defense, Otis demanded a jury viewing—and tasting—of the crushed ice Mule at Herbs & Rye in Las Vegas. Otis described the Herbs & Rye experience as pure rapture:
A giant man with a Thor-like hammer stood on the other side of the bar. He stuffed ice into a canvas sack (I’d learn later it’s called a “Lewis Bag”), put it on the edge of his bar, and beat it with his giant wooden mallet. It was simultaneously violent, artful, and erotic. I’d never been so turned on by a sweating 300-pound man in a black vest.
Thor went to work in a way I had never seen. It was at once robotic and fluid, like a wax museum bartender animated into a performance artist. By the time Thor finished, I had in front of me what amounted to a Moscow Mule sno-cone made with Fever Tree Ginger Beer and garnished with a paper-thin piece of lime peel.
A Moscow Mule sno-cone? Blasphemy!
Nonetheless, I am nothing if not a fair man. I determined that Otis and his crushed ice theorem should be given a fair trial, then shot like Old Yeller. So, during WPBT, I prevailed upon Lori to take me to Herbs & Rye, accompanied by a security force / jury of Astin and Travis. The scene was much as described by Otis, except for the two young, hipster Asian DJs spinning "Best of the 80s/90s Hip Hop Videos" in the lounge while we dined. Now that was an awesome trip down musical memory lanes!
The waitress brought drink menus, but there was no reason to open them. Three Mules were ordered. Three crushed ice Mule sno-cones arrived. I was duly skeptical. I sipped. The drink was tasty. It was ... very refreshing.
A second round of Mules were ordered by Lori and me, while Astin switched to a "Blood and Sand", a drink requiring an elaborate tableside orange bonfire. Apparently our order required more ice to be crushed, leading to our observing a 250+ pound man beating a block of ice into pulp with a massive mallet. Let's just say, if you own a massive mallet, you can crush all the ice you want for your bar and you will not hear a word of protest from me.
Perfect scene for a "Name that 80s/90s Hip Hop Video" contest.
Travis, Lori, and Astin, with a round of refreshments at Herbs & Rye.
All side dishes are better with bacon.
How to make artisan crushed ice.
Now THAT's a mallet!
An Herbs & Rye ice sculpture. Very refreshing.
I left Herbs & Rye very refreshed. Sure, much like Jabez Stone, I "got tricked and trapped and bamboozled, but it was a great journey." Still, although Herbs & Rye was a compelling opening gambit, the jury was still very much out on the crushed ice Mule.
Fast forward to late December when I stopped off in Vegas for a few days on the tail end of my holiday travels. During my stay, I sampled Mules in several spots. Nobhill Tavern in the MGM Grand served a decent Mule made with Smirnoff and Gosling's ginger beer, but it was served in a highball glass with crushed ice. It was good, but not great. Later, I had a Mule at Todd English's P.U.B. in Aria. This was the second time I dined at P.U.B., and the second time I was sorely disappointed by mediocre food. This time, I was also disappointed by a Mule served in a lowball glass with crushed ice and what seemed to be merely a splash of ginger beer. P.U.B. certainly took the mediocre Mule to an entirely new level.
But the greatest disappointment was saved for last. After a tasty dinner at Rick Mooney's RM Seafood at Mandalay Bay with Lori, Scott, Julie, and Poker Grump, we adjourned to Red Square to sample their Moscow Mules. When they were served, the Mules were not only sno-cones on steroids, but garnished with mint and served in pseudo-copper mugs (copper exteriors lined with non-copperish interiors). Mint sprigs were duly discarded, and Mules were sipped. Thankfully the straws enabled us to reach the beverage, but the mugs were barely 2/3 full at best. And thus were the two fundamental flaws of the crushed ice Mule laid bare—crushed ice waters down the drink while concomitantly squeezing out space for the beverage itself. Presto! Diluted Mule, and not much of it. Even the use of the uber-ginger beer Fever Tree could not save these Mules from mediocrity, and a second round was actually less satisfying (or more dissatisfying) than the first. The Mules even saved a final kick for when the waitress presented the tab—$17 per Mule. Sacrilege!
Red Square mint garnish gets the proper reception.
Frankly, I have seen enough. Mene Mule Tekel u-Pharsin. The Crushed Ice Mule has been judged and found wanting. No more will I permit crushed ice to pollute the sacred Mule. No more will I tolerate watered-down Mules that require a bendy straw to sip. By grand edict of the High Priest of the Mules: Give me cubes or give me death!
“I myself have read the writings and teachings of the heretics, polluting my soul for a while with their abominable notions, though deriving this benefit: I was able to refute them for myself and loathe them even more.”
~Eusebius, The Church History
k.d. lang performs "Hallelujah" at the 2005 Juno Awards in Winnipeg. (Yes, she's Canadian. Deal with it.)
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