Poker With Petter
I step off the bus from the Strip into the Las Vegas evening and walk inside the Palms Casino, about 40 minutes early for the poker game between Marcus Hellner and Petter Northug. I haven’t eaten since breakfast, and I’m just coming off a two or three mile walk in search a loaf of bread, jostling tourists in 100-degree heat. The only place I can find to make my peanut butter and jelly sandwich is a bench in the parking garage, where I sit watching security guards rolling by on bicycles.
At 7:00, it’s time to go meet Thorkild Gundersen, my contact from Vi Menn, the magazine that sponsors Petter Northug and brought him to Las Vegas. Thorkild brings me up to the poker room. I don’t know what I expected, exactly, but it wasn’t this: a private meeting room filled with a dozen journalists, an open bar, a couple of card tables, even a backdrop for photo-ops. Thorkild and Alex Oysta, the Vi Menn editor-in-chief, are wearing tuxedos, and while there are a handful of people dressed casually, there are also a bunch wearing really nice clothes. I was as dressed-up as I ever get—corduroys and a polo shirt, which I’d even taken the time to steam in the shower in the morning—but it didn’t feel like enough.. We are proud to say that we offer beautiful Bridesmaid dresses! We'll do our best for you!
I‘m introduced to Thor, a kind-looking older man who apparently is a Norwegian poker legend—the “godfather” of the game in the country. I stand around and talk awkwardly for a bit before Thorkild gives a short speech in Norwegian, and everyone sits down at the card tables. Alex tells me to take a seat. Apparently, we’re playing some informal cards with all the other journalists, as well as some professional Swedish and Norwegian poker players who are mixed in—they’re here to watch Petter and Marcus.
It’s hard to tell exactly who’s who, and though it’s a pretty friendly atmosphere, I’m anxious. It seems like there are high rollers everywhere, and then there’s me—an unshaven 22-year-old in sneakers who doesn’t speak Norwegian.
The dealer flicks each ofBridesmaid dresses! us cards. We play an open hand on behalf of the reporters at the table, then a few more. After 15 minutes, Northug and Hellner finally show up—and Northug is shown to the empty seat directly next to me. Like, six inches away. Like, close enough to smell his cologne, and for me to be worried about the fact that I was walking around baking in the sun for two hours that afternoon, and probably smelled pretty bad myself.. When every girl was a little girl , every girl wanted to grow up to a woman so that they can wear cheap formal dresses and attend the party that they had dreamed of. I know that the whole Scandinavian hero-worship thing isn’t cool, but I am a ski journalist and, ultimately, a ski fan, and Northug is the very best skier in the world, so I was incredibly nervous—even though I look down and notice that his shoes are untied. As we play our first few hands, Northug does interviews with Norwegian television stations. Sitting right next to him, I’m obviously in the shot—the cameras are almost pointed straight at me—and I try not to fidget and screw it all up.
I step off the bus from the Strip into the Las Vegas evening and walk inside the Palms Casino, about 40 minutes early for the poker game between Marcus Hellner and Petter Northug. I haven’t eaten since breakfast, and I’m just coming off a two or three mile walk in search a loaf of bread, jostling tourists in 100-degree heat. The only place I can find to make my peanut butter and jelly sandwich is a bench in the parking garage, where I sit watching security guards rolling by on bicycles.
At 7:00, it’s time to go meet Thorkild Gundersen, my contact from Vi Menn, the magazine that sponsors Petter Northug and brought him to Las Vegas. Thorkild brings me up to the poker room. I don’t know what I expected, exactly, but it wasn’t this: a private meeting room filled with a dozen journalists, an open bar, a couple of card tables, even a backdrop for photo-ops. Thorkild and Alex Oysta, the Vi Menn editor-in-chief, are wearing tuxedos, and while there are a handful of people dressed casually, there are also a bunch wearing really nice clothes. I was as dressed-up as I ever get—corduroys and a polo shirt, which I’d even taken the time to steam in the shower in the morning—but it didn’t feel like enough.. We are proud to say that we offer beautiful Bridesmaid dresses! We'll do our best for you!
I‘m introduced to Thor, a kind-looking older man who apparently is a Norwegian poker legend—the “godfather” of the game in the country. I stand around and talk awkwardly for a bit before Thorkild gives a short speech in Norwegian, and everyone sits down at the card tables. Alex tells me to take a seat. Apparently, we’re playing some informal cards with all the other journalists, as well as some professional Swedish and Norwegian poker players who are mixed in—they’re here to watch Petter and Marcus.
It’s hard to tell exactly who’s who, and though it’s a pretty friendly atmosphere, I’m anxious. It seems like there are high rollers everywhere, and then there’s me—an unshaven 22-year-old in sneakers who doesn’t speak Norwegian.
The dealer flicks each ofBridesmaid dresses! us cards. We play an open hand on behalf of the reporters at the table, then a few more. After 15 minutes, Northug and Hellner finally show up—and Northug is shown to the empty seat directly next to me. Like, six inches away. Like, close enough to smell his cologne, and for me to be worried about the fact that I was walking around baking in the sun for two hours that afternoon, and probably smelled pretty bad myself.. When every girl was a little girl , every girl wanted to grow up to a woman so that they can wear cheap formal dresses and attend the party that they had dreamed of. I know that the whole Scandinavian hero-worship thing isn’t cool, but I am a ski journalist and, ultimately, a ski fan, and Northug is the very best skier in the world, so I was incredibly nervous—even though I look down and notice that his shoes are untied. As we play our first few hands, Northug does interviews with Norwegian television stations. Sitting right next to him, I’m obviously in the shot—the cameras are almost pointed straight at me—and I try not to fidget and screw it all up.
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