Casino: The House Doesn’t Always Win — Inside the Murdoch Family Feud

By Michael Kelman Portney

You know, in my line of work—running casinos and keeping everyone happy while dodging the Feds—there’s one thing I’ve learned: the house always wins. Unless, of course, you’re Rupert Murdoch, and your house is filled with backstabbing, scheming kids who’ve been watching Succession and taking notes like it’s a how-to guide for family treachery. What we’ve got here isn’t a trust—it’s a craps table. And Rupert? He rolled snake eyes.

Now, let me explain this the way I’d explain a skim operation to a guy who thinks blackjack is a board game. Rupert wants to lock in his eldest son, Lachlan, as the boss of Fox News and all the other family jewels. Why? To make sure the empire stays on its conservative track after the old man kicks the bucket. He doesn’t want his lefty kids—James, Elisabeth, and Prudence—messing with his “legacy.” But here’s the problem: Lachlan’s playing with a stacked deck, and everyone at the table knows it

Rupert and Lachlan cooked up this plan they called “Project Family Harmony.” Family harmony! That’s rich. In casino terms, it’s like saying, “We’re only marking the cards to make sure everyone has a fair shot.” It’s a scam, plain and simple. Rupert wants to give all the control to Lachlan, but he’s dealing from the bottom of the deck. He even brought in Bill Barr to help shuffle the cards. Yes, that Bill Barr—the guy who could spin a poker game into a constitutional crisis.

Let me tell you, when you’re running an empire—or a casino—you don’t pull a stunt like this without backup. Rupert and Lachlan tried to stack the trust with their guys, including one schmuck whose idea of research was Googling the Murdochs and binge-watching Succession. That’s like hiring a pit boss who learned blackjack from a YouTube tutorial. Pathetic.

Now, Rupert’s sitting there, reading statements about how much he loves all his kids while handing Lachlan the keys to the kingdom. That’s like me telling my wife, Ginger, “Sure, honey, you can have the house—just as soon as I burn it down and bury the deeds in the desert.” It doesn’t fool anybody, and it sure as hell didn’t fool the Nevada commissioner. That guy saw right through the bluff and called it for what it was: a bad-faith hustle.

And let’s talk about Lachlan for a second. This guy’s supposed to be the heir apparent, the big shot, the Michael Corleone of the Murdoch clan. But instead of playing it cool, he’s texting his sister Elisabeth on the morning of the trust meeting, saying, “Today is about Dad’s wishes. Love you, Lachlan.” That’s not the move of a boss—it’s the move of a guy trying to sell you a bridge in Brooklyn. Weak.

Then there’s James, the supposed “troublesome beneficiary.” Rupert and Lachlan are so scared of this guy, they’re concocting conspiracy theories about secret meetings in London. Look, I’ve dealt with plenty of guys who thought they could outsmart the boss, and let me tell you, they’re always the first ones to end up in a hole in the desert. But James? He’s not even scheming! He’s just sitting there, watching this circus and probably laughing his ass off.

And here’s the kicker: the commissioner didn’t just rule against Rupert and Lachlan—he torched them. Called the whole thing a “carefully crafted charade” and said their representatives “demonstrated a dishonesty of purpose and motive.” In casino terms, that’s like catching the dealer with an ace up his sleeve and throwing him out on the street.

So what happens now? Rupert and Lachlan could try to buy out the other kids, but let’s face it: that’s a long shot. They could also keep fighting in court, dragging this thing out until Rupert’s 100 and Lachlan’s too old to care. Either way, the house—the real house, the family trust—might finally win.

As for Rupert, maybe it’s time he took a page from my book. When the chips are down and the game’s rigged against you, sometimes the best move is to walk away. Because in the end, the only thing worse than losing is looking like a sucker while you do it.

And Lachlan? This guy’s a real cocksucker. If you’re reading this, kid, take some advice from a guy who knows when the game’s up: fold. Because when the commissioner flips your cards over, all they see is a busted flush.

That’s all for now, folks. I’ve got a casino to run and a family to keep in line. Here’s hoping Rupert figures out his next move before someone flips the whole damn table.

Ciao for now.