The NRL, like so many gamblers before it, is thundering into the desert towards the bright lights of Las Vegas with money in the pocket, big plans on the mind and a sense of absolute certainty they'll back nothing but winners.
Even the most cynical of fans would have to admit at least a little excitement at the prospect of rugby league's upcoming American adventure.
Seeing a Steeden projected in Times Square, or the idea of NRL games being played in front of a possible 40,000 strong crowd at the site of this year's Super Bowl in Las Vegas is the kind of thing that gets the blood pumping, at least a little bit.
And because this is rugby league and because this is America, it's easy to get carried away with wild visions of a future where the land of the free falls in love with the sport even if the game has tried so many times before that the selling points can already be recited chapter and verse.
Americans love the brutality, physicality and speed of the NFL, so imagine what they'll think of a game that's similar, only faster and played without pads.
With a population of 331 million people, only one per cent of one per cent of the country needs to get into it to make the whole venture worthwhile and then the only limits on what the sport can be is what you can imagine.
Think about all the players who don't make the NFL every year, they're athletic and competitive and just need a new game to play so let's give it to them so the Americans will have some homegrown heroes.
The Yanks will love this game, they just have to see it and then they'll buy jerseys and sign up to streaming subscriptions and bet on the games like they're betting on everything else and television deals will be inked and matches will be beamed from San Diego to Boston until rugby league is as star-spangled as Ol' Glory itself and the game can bask in the riches, having finally found its El Dorado.
The gambling point is crucial, it's why a fresh American attempt is being made in the first place.
The money involved is staggering, to the point where even a crumb of the revenue – and that's all the NRL are after because that's all they can realistically expect – is enough to make another shot at the stumps worthwhile.
Since the widespread legalisation of sports gambling in 2018, Americans have taken to it with customary gusto – according to the American Gaming Association there was almost $120 billion wagered on sport in 2023, a 27.5 per cent rise from the year before.
That's big action and there's more to come and for a sport and an administration with already close links to gambling it's easy to see why the NRL wants a piece of it.
Even accounting for the betting focus, this American foray feels new and shiny and rather exciting, even for the most cynical among us. But rugby league has been chasing its American dream with some version of this playbook and rationale for almost a century now.
Way back in 1933 the legendary administrator Harry Sunderland wrote to Chicago Bears owner George Halas proposing an exhibition match in Chicago involving the Kangaroos en route to the following year's Kangaroo tour.
Halas, the founder of the Bears and a legendary American Football figure, wasn't just receptive to the idea – he proposed a game between the Kangaroos and his team, playing one half under league rules and one under American football rules.
It was a fine idea and thinking of the possibilities it may have presented is tantalising. But so were the American All Stars tour of 1953 and the fourth State of Origin match in 1987 and the game between the Kangaroos and the USA Tomahawks in Philadelphia in 2004 and the Denver Test in 2018.
Those ventures experienced varying degrees of success – the Philadelphia match genuinely felt like the start of something while the Denver Test was poorly executed – but each of them were one-offs with little to no follow up from the powers that be.
Every time, America proved to be too American, which is to say it was too big, too expensive and expansive, too wild and sprawling, for rugby league to even begin trying to really get a saddle on it.
The greatest success stories for rugby league in the US, like the 2004 match and the 2013 World Cup campaign, came not from glitzy marketing blitzes but from years and years of thankless grassroots development from true believers on the ground. A top-down approach, like the NRL is attempting, is a different thing entirely.
To make it in America and cut through the overwhelming dominance of their native games, persistence is vital. Rugby league must be willing to spend a lot of money before it begins to make any and that has rarely been a sacrifice the sport is willing to make.
The early signs out of Vegas are promising. Ticket sales are reportedly creeping towards the 40,000 mark and interest in Australia has been extensive.
But it's worth remembering from how low a base rugby league is beginning and how high a mountain it has to climb in America.
There are currently around just 3000 American subscribers to the WatchNRL app, the vast majority of which would be Australian expats, and there's a fair discussion to be had regarding how many punters in Allegiant Stadium on the day will be existing fans of the game and how many will be curious locals.
The "no pads" aspect of the marketing feels outdated.
Through rugby union, which has been established in the US via college sports, sevens events, numerous Test matches that have been played in America over the past decade, and the confusingly-named Major League Rugby competition, there is an greater awareness of a contact sport with no protection gear than ever before.
That's to say nothing of the paradoxical nature of the idea in the first place – if you want Americans to follow your sport why would you imply that gridiron, the closest thing the country has to a secular religion, is actually soft?
The NRL says it's committed to the Las Vegas venture for five years, which is the right thing to do, but if this year's games are a disaster that quickly goes from a long-term plan to an unwelcome weight to bear around the game's neck.
Will the fans come across from Australia for year two? Will the media interest, in America and Australia, be the same once the novelty wears off?
Does the NRL have another string to it's marketing bow beyond "these guys aren't wearing any pads"? Will the inroads into America even be visible after half a decade? Is that even enough time to complete such a difficult task, or even really begin it?
These are the questions that need to be answered before we start talking about changing the time of the grand final to line up with American audiences or launching professional competitions with franchises in major US cities. You have to walk before you can run and right now rugby league in America is still crawling.
Across the sport, excitement around the Vegas games is peaking. We all have a little bit of dreamer in us somewhere and the prospect of rugby league finding it's El Dorado in America at last is a tantalising one.
It's a serious gamble and the payoff on the bet would be enormous, but there's a reason casinos and sportsbooks are drowning in cash.
Most gamblers lose a hell of a lot more than they win and plenty of the people who went searching for the lost city of gold never made it home again.