TOM BOYLE

Weblog: Playing his cards right . . . some of the time

Gaming convention is not so conventional

A background in newspapers has not been a particularly good preparation for industry conventions. One imagines them to be rather tedious. I suppose them to offer an opportunity for sales teams to tout their wares and have affairs at small hotels in nondescript towns up and down the country and occasionally . . . on the continent.

But I'm on a learning curve now because the poker and gaming world do enjoy meeting up and are not shy about having a bit of a party. Of course I've not gone to any of the exhibition stands and seminars. Nope, I've just been going to the post-convention parties - two trade gatherings this year alone courtesy of achum who is a regular attendee at these things.

The first was at a club called Chinawhite - a venue a stone's throw from Piccadilly Circus and often associated with footballers and their hangers on. Chinawhite's intimate surroundings were pleasant enough but the in crowd went out when the delegates rode into town. The lacquered surfaces and soft furnishings were devoid of wags and models and the dance area was instead populated by middle-aged men. They had at least taken off theirname badges and ties but a wild and glamorous night it was not.

Lessons were learnt from that experience and bosses planned a less conventional bash last week at Camden's impressive Gilgamesh. The pan-Asian restaurant got rid of the tables and chairs and in came semi-nude dancers and screens showing art-house films that amounted to mild pornography. At one stage an 'entertainer' brought a goat into the room and I later saw a scantily clad dancer wrestling with giant anaconda on stage.

Another chum of mine asked why there were no celebrities at the gig and at the very moment none other than Doyle Brunson limped into the room on his way to a reserved banquet. It turned out my friend was keener to see the likesof David Beckham. Moments later Scotty Nguyen arrived wearing the kind of outfit you can only get away with if you are either on benefits or are five-time bracelet winner at the World Series of Poker (including the 1998 Main Event). In short, for one night only,  Vegas arrived in north London.

It was a bonkers scene but it doesn't matter how many satyrs (male and female) strut around the room or how many models hand out glasses of prosecco the event is still just a post-trade fair party.

We love cliques in this country and this room was no exception. The IT boffins hung out together, the marketeers mingled with each other and those folks who sell cleaning products to keep the fruit machines shinny were lingering at the bar discussing the merits of microfiber dusters.

Trouble is I don't think I've been to quite enough of these events to feel as though I'm a part of the scene. I suppose I'll have to try and visit a few more .. . just to see if I can get the hang of it.