Ok, so the NRL are opening their season in Las Vegas.

Glamourous, brash, glitzy, tasteless.

All show, no substance.

A heaving pit of destitute and broken humans, the odour of loss overcome by the dense and mesmerising stench of money.

Remember, Vegas wasn’t built on winners, it's the epitome of the American nightmare, pipe dreams of wealth and achievement based on blind faith in the devastatingly cruel hand of lady luck.

A mirage of prosperity built on the backs of gangsters, losers, alcohol, drugs and shattered dreams.

What a place to try and gain traction for rugby league.

Peter V'landys, Anthony Abdo and the like obviously want a slice of that platinum pie, possibly the whole dish and believe the golden-paved boulevards of sin city are the right route to travel on.

Tapping into the morally corrupt world of sports betting looks to be the modus operandi of the NRL, which sits comfortably with a sport that spends a lot of it’s time wading through the morass of the darker side of humanity. With clockwork rhythm, the NRL provides the media controversy after controversy, so it will find a bus shelter to sleep under there, I’m sure.

The game won’t get any air to breathe in Nevada, it will be swallowed whole by the monster of entertainment that is Vegas. League will be a side show, an oddity, a curious throwback to the more brutal days of collision sport.

The National Rugby League has chosen to launch  their season as far away from Australia as they could go, in a place that has no love for the game, attended by only expats, the wealthy that can afford to fly to and stay in Las Vegas, the corporate gravy train commuters and a couple of bemused and quite probably lost tourists.

Vegas isn’t the USA, it’s a charlatan tourist trap, designed to drain people of their money and dignity, under the carefully manicured guise of fun.

Bravo to the NRL I suppose for trying it on, and good luck to them. Luck being the operative word.