It was late Sunday evening at Pullman Yards, a former fertilizer plant and industrial complex that now serves as an entertainment venue on the east side of Atlanta, and the YouTuber Kyle Forgeard’s path to victory in a glammed-up fantasy football championship was narrowing.
Rubi Rose, a rapper and internet personality from Lexington, Ky., had established a commanding lead as the Bengals-Chargers game barreled toward halftime, and Mr. Forgeard’s chances of winning back-to-back championships, which seemed good earlier that day, were fading.
Mr. Forgeard, who is known for his pranks and podcasts as part of the group the Nelk Boys, sat on a plush black leather sofa watching an enormous television screen, his eyes fixed in earnest concentration, as people buzzed around him. Nearby was Arthur Kulik, known as Jimmy Gambles, who is Mr. Forgeard’s right-hand man and his closest adviser in the game.
“I don’t know about the other teams, but this is very serious to me,” Mr. Forgeard said. “I want to repeat. I’m trying to win.”
That was the scene at the second annual PrizePicks World Championships, an event billed as the “ultimate fantasy competition” in which celebrity-led teams go head-to-head in a daylong contest of daily fantasy football skill.
Trying to capitalize on the lucrative and sometimes contentious world of online gambling and fantasy sports, PrizePicks assembled a roster of celebrities, athletes and influencers to compete in the splashy event, which lasted hours and featured a barrage of nightclub-style lights and music. It was attended by an invite-only guest list of more than 350 local V.I.P.s.
The evening’s top prize: $100,000 in cash.
“We try to do all of this within our app, but bringing people together in person like this is awesome to see,” Marcus Sanford, the chief financial officer of PrizePicks, said during the event. “This is great for our community.”
Daily fantasy sports, a fast-paced alternative to traditional season-long leagues, involve drafting a team of professional players and competing against others based on the results of a day of games. In a market worth billions of dollars, daily fantasy games have been characterized by some critics as venues for “rampant exploitation.” But they continue to grow.
“It’s honestly what got me back into watching football,” Sean O’Malley, a professional mixed martial artist and former U.F.C. bantamweight champion, said of daily fantasy games. Mr. O’Malley, decked out in a fluorescent pink suit and a raft of necklaces, was on hand as one of the event’s celebrity contestants, though by midway through the night it was clear he was not doing well.
“The thing is, you don’t need to know a ton to play,” he said. “The more educated you are about sports, obviously, the more educated your picks will be. But I don’t watch every game and I don’t know every player. It’s still fun to play.”
The event had the atmosphere of a carnival. In addition to the towering screens on either side of the cavernous room, there were poker and pool tables, Xbox consoles and photo op stations. Burgers and chocolate chip cookies circulated on trays, and an open bar had the alcohol flowing as a DJ blasted tunes from 21 Savage and Drake. The dress code was modern and chic, verging on outlandish: Ultrarare Nike sneakers were juxtaposed with mini skirts and tracksuits, letterman jackets and custom jerseys.
The youthful vibe was no accident: It was part of an attitude of vibrant, contemporary revelry that PrizePicks has consciously cultivated, both in its advertising and in how it positioned the event. PrizePicks invited influencers — like the streamer Sketch and the comedian Druski — whose audiences skew young and whose content is upbeat and unconventional.
The influencers spent the evening partying rowdily and trash-talking one another from across the room.
“Everybody that works at PrizePicks is in their late 20s and early 30s, and they understand what I do and the power of social media,” Druski, whose real name is Drew Desbordes, said. “They understand that you have to let the people who are your brand ambassadors be themselves when they’re promoting the brand. I think that’s the best way to get content out of people with a huge following — just let them do what they do best.”
Each of the celebrity contestants had a teammate: an ordinary fan selected to be flown out to Atlanta to participate in the championships. The fans were drawn from all over the country, and each one was a self-professed daily fantasy sports obsessive, ready and eager to put their skills to the test.
B.T. Hale, a social media manager from Dallas, was selected to join Mr. O’Malley’s team after submitting a video that included a personal plea. Mr. Hale had recently participated in another fantasy sports contest over the summer, one with a $1 million prize, and his picks had been a bust. “I had a chance to win a million bucks and I blew it,” he said. “I told Sean in the video that no one’s ever come back from a loss like that before, and I wanted to be the one to do it.”
Dressed in a flowing fur coat and a cowboy hat, Mr. Hale seemed like an appropriate fit as Mr. O’Malley’s teammate — a bit of sartorial symmetry that Mr. Hale acknowledged. “He kind of reminds of me of me, the larger-than-life style and personality,” he said. Basking in the excitement of the event with his younger brother, whom he brought along as his guest, Mr. Hale said it didn’t matter whether he and Mr. O’Malley won. “Even if I don’t win a dollar, the blessings that have flowed to me just from being here have been amazing,” he said.
Mattua Bright, a transportation coordinator for the U.S. Army, was selected to be Mr. Forgeard’s teammate after making the case that he was one of the Nelk Boys’ biggest and most dedicated fans. Mr. Bright took leave from service at Fort Liberty in North Carolina to come to the championships, and wandering the purple carpet, he looked wide-eyed and ecstatic, soaking in the bright lights.
Asked what he would do if he won the $100,000 prize, Mr. Bright said he would “invest it in real estate and crypto,” adding, “You’ve got to have financial freedom.”
During halftime, an emcee, fighting to be heard over the din of the crowd, summoned considerable enthusiasm to introduce the night’s guest of honor, the sports commentator Stephen A. Smith. “You’ve covered every kind of sporting event all across the country,” the emcee said, beaming. “And now the PrizePicks World Championships — there’s a lot at stake here, too.”
Mr. Smith was genial and witty in his short speech, welcoming each of the celebrity contestants and tendering a few tentative predictions about who would come out on top. Afterward, he watched the event unfold from a couch in the center of the room, closely guarded by security personnel but indulging requests from fans to take selfies and shake hands.
Asked about the appeal of the event, Mr. Smith took a moment to consider. “Well, any time you’re talking about a $100,000 prize, obviously that’s attractive,” he said. “It ain’t Oprah giving out a car back in the day, but it’s pretty damn close.”
As the game entered its final minutes, it became clear that Rubi Rose would prevail over Team Forgeard, quashing his hopes of repeating last year’s victory. The night before the event, PrizePicks presented Mr. Forgeard with a custom purple blazer — a reference to the green sports coat awarded to the winners of the Masters golf tournament — at a dinner held in his honor, and it was Mr. Forgeard’s ambition to secure another one. Ms. Rose, however, was fated to take it home.
She celebrated her victory in the center of the room, twerking before a cheering audience to the deafening roar of DJ Khaled’s “All I Do Is Win.” She was presented with a gold trophy in the shape of a football — as well as the promise of the $100,000 cash prize.
“Listen, Team Rubi, period,” Ms. Rose said proudly, showing off a line of successful picks on the betting app on her phone. “Lock in with me, y’all.”
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