The Smoking Gun: CEO fails to phone home. LOL
An egaming imposter at the Playboy Club, plus while one CEO struggles with modern technology another executive mistakes the editor's mobile number for his wife's.
CEO fails to phone home. LOL
The majority of the planet now has a mobile phone surgically sewn to their ears 24 hours a day. Even the very few toddlers we know here at ‘the Gun’ know how to use an iPhone faster and quicker than most adults. In terms of the gaming industry mobile is of course more important than ever.
In a recent report H2 Gambling Capital, in partnership with eGR, found that a total of 2.22bn in gross gambling yield was generated via the market channel in 2010 with this rising to2.536bn during 2011 and 5.380bn by 2015.
The report concluded that any industry that wants to be at the cutting edge and capitalise on the latest generational phenomenon needs to look closely at mobile opportunities.
Everyone that is except a certain highly experienced CEO of a listed European gaming company. TSG has it on very good authority that the person in question, who shall remain anonymous (not for fear of being texted of course, but because we’re nice like that), previous to being introduced to his first Blackberry “a few weeks ago”, was previously unreachable, even to his senior management team.
On his last family holiday, for instance, an urgent message needed to be passed on, but there was no way to reach him as he happily sunbathed on a tropical beach somewhere very warm and very exclusive. Carrier pigeons are said to have been primed but were not released for fear of perishing on the long journey.
Luckily he has now been fully trained in the art of pressing different coloured buttons, downloading his own company’s casino app (playing it’s a different matter altogether) and is thought to have experimented by BBM-ing his chief marketing officer and his children. TSG was passed on one of their responses: “Daaaddd, ur sooooo embarrassing cya! lol”
Text of the month
Talking of mobiles it’s always great when someone in the industry mistakes his wife’s mobile number for the editor’s. It’s even better when we just let said texter continue to send through random messages so we can enjoy the moment that little bit longer.
“FYI [name of a dog “ we hope] did not go to the bathroom when I took her out. She has food in her bowl so don’t give her more,” read the first text.
“[name of person within the company] left to get the kids … I’m on a call til 430/5p. Kids will be home? So that’s where I should head? Read the second.
“Opps, sorry,” read the third. And all that from a very well media trained professional. Shame it ended there really.
Name of the game
“Guest lists eh? What are they for?” was a phrase commonly heard on the first evening of the ICE exhibition as people selected a party to go to out of the many on offer. In answer to that we would say they are to ensure riff raff are kept out of venues where responsible adults want to have fun and network during Europe’s biggest gaming event of the year.
The large majority of delegates adhered to these rules but while TSG was passing through the doors of the Playboy club and casino in Mayfair we heard one individual cheekily cross the line. As he walked towards the bunny clad girls and pumped up bouncers he suddenly realised he had no chance of getting in using his real name so, as the glamorous hostess asked for his credentials, he swiftly uttered… “Jim Ryan” and entered the bunnyhouse grinning from ear-to-ear as he picked up a complementary glass of champers and necked it in one go.
Come on, jump in my car!
If your CEO promises you a “faster, cleverer, sexier car to drive” you’d normally be delighted, if a little apprehensive. That is, unless the CEO in question has been known to trade in mixed, if not outright, confused metaphors. When Richard Glynn made this promise to his digital marketing team no one really remembered how he started the sentence (usually the key to getting to the bottom of his allegory), so we all just assumed it was a reference to the golf buggy they’ll be using en route to another famous Glynn-ism, “putting for birdie on every hole”.