I never thought I’d end up writing about casinos. If you had asked me ten years ago, I would’ve laughed at the idea. But life has a funny way of shuffling the deck, and here I am, deeply immersed in the world of slot machines, card tables, and the ever-elusive promise of luck.
My name is Albert Iverson, and I suppose you could call me a storyteller at heart. I’ve always been fascinated by people and the choices they make when they think no one’s watching. Growing up in a small Midwestern town, I spent my days reading old adventure novels and my nights listening to my grandpa’s tales of his “wild days” in Las Vegas. Grandpa loved to embellish the truth, but as a kid, I didn’t care. His stories of big wins and near misses under the neon lights lit a spark in me that would smolder for years.
I wasn’t much of a gambler myself—unless you count a few reckless poker nights in college—but something about casinos always intrigued me. After earning my degree in journalism, I started writing for a local paper, covering everything from small-town politics to community bake sales. It paid the bills, but my mind kept wandering to something bigger, something with more stories to tell.
My break came when a buddy of mine, a real casino enthusiast, convinced me to join him on a trip to Atlantic City. I figured I’d write a quick article about the experience—just a filler piece. But once I stepped into the casino, I realized there was so much more to it than flashing lights and clinking coins. Every face told a story—hope, desperation, confidence, regret—and I wanted to capture them all. That one article turned into a series, and before I knew it, I was hooked—not on gambling, but on the psychology behind it, the way casinos are these strange microcosms of human behavior.
Over the years, I’ve made it my mission to write not just about the games themselves, but about the people who play them and the culture surrounding casinos. My articles range from deep dives into the mechanics of blackjack to whimsical pieces about the quirks of casino perks—like why you always get free drinks, or why slot machines seem to know just when to give you that glimmer of hope before taking it away again.
It’s not always glamorous, but it’s real, and that’s what keeps me going. I’ve interviewed high-rollers who bet millions without blinking and retirees who count their nickels before sliding them into a penny slot. I’ve written about the rise of skill-based games, the ethics of online gambling, and the ever-growing world of virtual reality casinos. And through it all, I’ve learned one thing: the casino is never just about the game. It’s about the people who come looking for something—luck, excitement, an escape—and the stories they create along the way.
Now, I spend my days traveling to casinos around the world, soaking in the atmosphere, talking to players, and writing stories that hopefully make people think. And when I’m not doing that, you’ll find me at home with a good book, perhaps something far removed from the casino world—though I have to admit, I can never resist the urge to check out the odd poker novel now and then.
Looking back, I guess you could say I’ve found my niche in a place I never expected. But that’s the beauty of life, isn’t it? Sometimes, the cards you’re dealt aren’t what you planned for, but if you play them right, they just might lead you somewhere interesting.