The Decline
The post-WSOP hangover is real and alienating to those around you.
Last month I wrote a pair of stories inspired by my love for 90s punk – “Disconnected” and “Pride and Shame.” Now that the 2025 World Series is in the books, it feels fitting to finish the trilogy with NOFX’s “The Decline” because I’m a shell of the person that I was when I left.
The return home from Las Vegas a week ago seems like a blur. It takes a week to recover from the WSOP grind if you did the job right. Unplugging from the Strip and back into suburban life is a hard downshift, and adjusting to a normal sleep schedule takes a few days after you’ve slept for about three days.
It’s a complete drain that left me empty inside for days. I poured my heart and soul into writing the kind of stuff I want to read about poker. I emptied the tank mentally and needed time to reset myself. The post-WSOP hibernation is something I’ve learned that I need badly each year.
I lost my “gamer” pen one day, which, if you know me, is a huge deal. I like to boast that I’m the only writer in poker with a pen sponsorship, but it’s really OCD. I’ve used the same Pilot G2 pens for 15 years. I travel with ink refills and never loan them out. I made do with a backup, but that lost pen was legitimately on my mind as my plane home taxied out to the runway.
You feel like a stranger in your own house and reconnecting to your circle takes effort. Their lives didn’t stop for seven weeks to wholly devote themselves to work. They don’t understand that the work is all-consuming and will go on if you’re there or not.
It’s a struggle not to bring up poker because in this niche, there is no offseason. There are no holidays, no paid vacations, and sick days make employers think you’re not dependable. You’re only as good as your last story and it’s easy to lose gigs to behind-the-scenes politics.
Sometimes, just boosting your voice can cost you jobs down the road. You’re left wondering if you stepped over dollars to pick up dimes, while just doing what makes you happy. There are lots of peaks and valleys when you’re a creative freelancer, always looking for the next job.
Choosing a career that’s creative, but also tied to deadlines and measurable reach, requires artistic talent that can’t be faked and business acumen that doesn’t come naturally. You publish into the void every day, never knowing what will and won’t connect with audiences.
At the time of writing, I’m exactly seven days removed from publishing my winner story. I went to Las Vegas to prove my worth as a writer. I wrote exactly what I wanted, when I wanted. I went so hard that I left myself creatively and emotionally drained.
I wrote 23 stories in 13 working days, writing only one recap per day for the last two. So, I churned out 21 features in 11 days on my site, based on over 50 interviews. I had over 6,000 views on my site, but that doesn’t mean a thing to the loved ones I left for a month.
They don’t get traction in a relationship based on my views; they didn’t get me on the family beach trip because I had to interview Erik Seidel, and my daughter didn’t have me reading bedtime stories because I wanted to put my stamp on the Main Event.
But writers write, and huge tournaments are like a playground to me. I don’t understand how others aren’t trying to bag three interviews each day. I don’t understand the casualness in the industry to overlook bad grammar, passive voice and a complete disregard for AP Style.
I might be the only person who sees common ground with NOFX and writing in poker. Sometimes the piece might be an epic, 19-minute indictment on modern society and all its ills, and the next might be about wet farts.
I’m not sure where the next gig is, or who it will be for, but I can tell you that no one will approach covering a tournament as seriously as I do. I read an interview early in my career by a famous musician that said something to the effect that he’s not paid to play on stage, he’s paid to sleep in hotels and take early flights, because he would play for free if he could.
That’s what I did. I covered the 2025 WSOP Main Event for free. Everything came out of my pocket. I did it for the love of writing. It’s not sustainable, it doesn’t make sense and may have even alienated some gatekeepers.
But it’s what I love and what I do best.
“Why go against tradition when we can
Admit defeat, live in decline
Be the victim of our own design
The status quo, built on suspect
Why would anyone stick out their neck?
Fellow members
Club "We've Got Ours"
I'd like to introduce you to our host
He's got his, and I've got mine
Meet the decline
We are the queer
We are the whore
Ammunition in the class war”
Written by NOFX , Lyrics by Fat Mike
Images by Paul Oresteen and Google Gemini AI.
Kudos to you!