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By Chad Millman
ESPN The Magazine
About a month ago, I went on an around the world, four-day, four-country tour with Phil Ivey. No joke. On his private jet we flew from Connecticut to Montreal to Amsterdam to Austria. He played some dice, won some money, made appearances for Full Tilt Poker and generally lived like a rock star.
Ivey plays poker like Jordan played basketball.
Then I came home to New Jersey, where my Passat wagon needs a new muffler and my computer has chocolate stains from my kids. But I did write a story about the trip for The Mag that comes out next week. And we brought along some "E:60" cameras for a piece that will air on Nov. 3, in advance of the World Series of Poker's final table on Nov. 7. So I'll always have that.
Plus, for the past couple days I've been in Vegas, doing one more "E:60" interview with Ivey and peeking in as The Mag sat him down for a photo shoot. I started writing this column while sitting on his sofa, underneath a 30-foot living-room ceiling, as TV crews tried not to scratch his white marble floor. Ivey's house is modern inside and out -- the glass and metal front door is the size of a bank vault's; picture windows overlook a golf course -- with an audio system that rivals any stadium's. It sounds like Grandmaster Flash is playing live in the kitchen.
As I was writing the first two graphs of this column, Ivey sat down next to me and tried to read over my shoulder. Before I could close my laptop he saw my line about the Passat. He drives a McLaren -- and thinks I'm a sucker.
When he finished reading, he went back to his office to play some online poker while the camera and sound guys rearranged his furniture. It may not look like it when you're watching him on TV -- Ivey is focused and flat and looks downright mad sitting at the table -- but the man loves poker the way Michael Jordan loved hoops. If there are five free minutes in the day, he wants to use them playing as many hands as possible. He'd do it for matchsticks. The fact he doesn't have to is a luxury.
On the second floor of his house he has a poker room, which includes a felt table and chips that read "Ivey." But, when he's home, he says, "I spend all my time in the office." On his desk he has three large computer monitors, on which he's usually got several poker games going at once. On the wall he has five oversized TV screens, all tuned to different stations. And next to his desk is an old-school Pac-Man game, with a high score of 216,000. When I asked Ivey if that was his total he didn't answer, and just said, "I'm going to break that today. When I was growing up I was so good at video games older kids in the neighborhood used to bet on me with each other. There was $100 riding on if I would break a record."
There's considerably more being bet on him to win the WSOP's Main Event. He won two WSOP bracelets this year and he's the biggest name in the sport, let alone at the final table. That's why casinos are making him a 6-1 shot to win it all, despite the fact he's seventh among the November Nine with 9.76 million chips, around 50 million less than leader Darvin Moon, who is listed as a 3-1 fave.
And, as aloof as Ivey can seem, winning this tournament is something he cares deeply about. The first time he ever watched poker was in 1998 when he saw Scotty Nguyen take the WSOP Main Event title. Back then, the tourney lasted three weeks and the prize money was $1 million. Now, all nine remaining players earned more than that for making the final table. "But it's not about the money," Ivey told me. "This is the biggest event in my profession; it's been a dream of mine to win ever since I watched it. So I've been working out, playing constantly and I've got all my opponents on TiVo. I'll have something ready for them."
We chatted on camera for more than an hour. And when we were done, as the crew chowed down on pizza, Ivey went back to his office. His manager, Chris "Gotti" Lorenzo, was in there, too. He had just started playing a game of Pac-Man when I walked in. Ivey, meanwhile, leaned back in his crocodile skin chair, put his feet on the desk, his hand on a mouse, and played more hands of poker. I peeked over Lorenzo's shoulder to see how he was doing and I noticed there was a new high score for the game: 243,000. I looked back at Ivey and asked, "Is that your total?"
He looked at me for a second, smiled and went back to playing poker. He didn't say a word.
He didn't have to.
ESPN The Magazine
About a month ago, I went on an around the world, four-day, four-country tour with Phil Ivey. No joke. On his private jet we flew from Connecticut to Montreal to Amsterdam to Austria. He played some dice, won some money, made appearances for Full Tilt Poker and generally lived like a rock star.
Ivey plays poker like Jordan played basketball.
Then I came home to New Jersey, where my Passat wagon needs a new muffler and my computer has chocolate stains from my kids. But I did write a story about the trip for The Mag that comes out next week. And we brought along some "E:60" cameras for a piece that will air on Nov. 3, in advance of the World Series of Poker's final table on Nov. 7. So I'll always have that.
Plus, for the past couple days I've been in Vegas, doing one more "E:60" interview with Ivey and peeking in as The Mag sat him down for a photo shoot. I started writing this column while sitting on his sofa, underneath a 30-foot living-room ceiling, as TV crews tried not to scratch his white marble floor. Ivey's house is modern inside and out -- the glass and metal front door is the size of a bank vault's; picture windows overlook a golf course -- with an audio system that rivals any stadium's. It sounds like Grandmaster Flash is playing live in the kitchen.
As I was writing the first two graphs of this column, Ivey sat down next to me and tried to read over my shoulder. Before I could close my laptop he saw my line about the Passat. He drives a McLaren -- and thinks I'm a sucker.
When he finished reading, he went back to his office to play some online poker while the camera and sound guys rearranged his furniture. It may not look like it when you're watching him on TV -- Ivey is focused and flat and looks downright mad sitting at the table -- but the man loves poker the way Michael Jordan loved hoops. If there are five free minutes in the day, he wants to use them playing as many hands as possible. He'd do it for matchsticks. The fact he doesn't have to is a luxury.
On the second floor of his house he has a poker room, which includes a felt table and chips that read "Ivey." But, when he's home, he says, "I spend all my time in the office." On his desk he has three large computer monitors, on which he's usually got several poker games going at once. On the wall he has five oversized TV screens, all tuned to different stations. And next to his desk is an old-school Pac-Man game, with a high score of 216,000. When I asked Ivey if that was his total he didn't answer, and just said, "I'm going to break that today. When I was growing up I was so good at video games older kids in the neighborhood used to bet on me with each other. There was $100 riding on if I would break a record."
There's considerably more being bet on him to win the WSOP's Main Event. He won two WSOP bracelets this year and he's the biggest name in the sport, let alone at the final table. That's why casinos are making him a 6-1 shot to win it all, despite the fact he's seventh among the November Nine with 9.76 million chips, around 50 million less than leader Darvin Moon, who is listed as a 3-1 fave.
And, as aloof as Ivey can seem, winning this tournament is something he cares deeply about. The first time he ever watched poker was in 1998 when he saw Scotty Nguyen take the WSOP Main Event title. Back then, the tourney lasted three weeks and the prize money was $1 million. Now, all nine remaining players earned more than that for making the final table. "But it's not about the money," Ivey told me. "This is the biggest event in my profession; it's been a dream of mine to win ever since I watched it. So I've been working out, playing constantly and I've got all my opponents on TiVo. I'll have something ready for them."
We chatted on camera for more than an hour. And when we were done, as the crew chowed down on pizza, Ivey went back to his office. His manager, Chris "Gotti" Lorenzo, was in there, too. He had just started playing a game of Pac-Man when I walked in. Ivey, meanwhile, leaned back in his crocodile skin chair, put his feet on the desk, his hand on a mouse, and played more hands of poker. I peeked over Lorenzo's shoulder to see how he was doing and I noticed there was a new high score for the game: 243,000. I looked back at Ivey and asked, "Is that your total?"
He looked at me for a second, smiled and went back to playing poker. He didn't say a word.
He didn't have to.
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