It's only a matter of time until we get our own 'gaming' theme park, reckons John Butler
Whenever the subject of Ireland and casinos is raised I think of Ikea. When An Bord Pleanála granted permission a couple of weeks ago for the furniture uberchain to build a 30,000sq m outlet next to the M50 motorway in north Dublin, you could almost sense people gathering up their infants and fleeing for high ground from where to condemn this neo-Viking invasion. As with a proposal for a casino, some point to the impending arrival of Ikea as proof that Irish culture is circling the drain.
With 237 stores and, according to the company, more than 500 million visitors a year, Ikea is the McDonald's of MDF, a symbol of the death of local culture in each of the 36 countries it occupies.
But the true symbolic value of Ikea's opening here has been diluted by the fact that its sleek, utilitarian furniture and fittings already adorn thousands of Irish living rooms. Board a Ryanair flight to Glasgow or Manchester on any day of the week and you'll meet gangs of Irish people heading for Ikea.
What does this have in common with the idea of a super-casino opening here? The Irish are gambling online in huge numbers, and, as with Ikea, the money we spend is flying offshore, with the exception of a few Irish-run gaming sites. The bricks and mortar of a Foxwoods may not yet be seen out by the M50, but we are spending millions on gaming without the presence in Ireland of a major casino.
As national borders can be loosely recognised in virtual spaces, unusual kinks can appear in legislature. You can't transfer your online winnings to an American credit card - a law George Bush enacted to curb excessive online gaming in the US - but any adult can drive to a casino on a US native American reservation and put his or her retirement money down on black. In Ireland the reverse applies - and is equally bananas. You can get online in a second and lose your SSIA to some guy in Montreal. But you can't get in a car and drive to a super-casino to lose it to someone with a face. Who is being protected?
I'm a risk player, so I won't try to convince anyone that gambling is anything other than a vice. I play poker, and I know of many people who make respectable livings from playing it, but the fact remains that, whenever they win, someone else loses.
In defence of poker, it is a game of skill with an element of luck. The same cannot be said for craps, roulette and blackjack. I play none of those games, because, in them, the house exploits a consistent, bankable advantage.
Gambling on a game of risk is addictive in any form, and addiction defies logic. It is even harder to quit when there are flashing lights, free drinks for players and a lack of clearly marked exits. These games, and the hideous slot machines, are the games that built Las Vegas, Atlantic City and Foxwoods.
Still, we are who we are. When we're not online we're playing in any of the many small card clubs popping up across the country. When we're not at the card clubs we're betting small fortunes on horses and football. We gamble. It's part of who we are, and the piety of our not having a super-casino has a uniquely Irish feel to it. After all, it's our tradition to export what we consider our sins and sinners.
When I spoke to one of Ireland's better, and better-known, poker professionals about the casino issue a few years ago, Donnacha O'Dea did not hesitate before answering. "I think it's ridiculous that we don't have [ a large casino]. It's a big opportunity that's missing from a tourism point of view, because I think that can influence certain people," he said. "Ireland has been at the forefront of European gambling with racecourse bookies and betting shops, and now almost every country in Europe has a casino except Ireland. I think it'll come eventually, and I'd prefer to see one good casino to a lot of small bad ones."
I couldn't agree more. You could say the card clubs of Ireland have a unique charm, but they are a long way from the real deal. It's a matter of taste as to which experience you prefer, but if the Government chose to regulate the gaming industry you could expect the Irish casino experience to be overhauled radically.
Ikea opened its first UK store in 1987, so Ireland has done well to resist the Scandinavian overtures for this long. It's important to fight to protect whatever it is you believe, but it's equally important to recognise when the fight has been lost. There's a saying in poker that sums up how you should deal with the vicissitudes of luck, and how you should cherish what you have but accept when it is no longer yours. When it comes to the ever-morphing landscape of Irish culture, hang on tightly, let go lightly.