About the Authors

Author: Vitaly - mr. Koteo (Brisbane Mafia Club)

I was born in the middle of Siberia, in the city of Krasnoyarsk. A cold place, but a warm home. Later in my twenties I moved to New Zealand, and in my thirties I moved again — this time to Australia. If you look at a map, it’s almost a straight diagonal line across the planet. Somehow my life has followed that path too.

I first learned Mafia back in Russia during my teenage years, but that was the classic “city-mafia” version. No sports rules, no gestures, no masks, no structure — just friends arguing loudly in someone’s living room. When I moved to New Zealand, nothing really changed. I still played the same classic version with my new New Zealand friends (who were, not surprisingly, also mostly Russian-speaking). I heard about “Sports Mafia” while living there, but never tried it. And I didn’t know how much that small detail would matter for my future.

I played city-mafia maybe once a month in New Zealand. It was fun, simple, chaotic — perfect for socialising. But everything changed when I arrived in Brisbane.

One evening, we were celebrating a friend’s birthday. There were five of us, and it turned out one of the guys was a member of Brisbane Mafia Club. He invited us to “come check out the club, just for fun.” We went. Three out of the five of us now play there every single week.

My very first impression? Honestly — I thought it was a cult. Masks, loud music, a game master preaching from the middle of the room… But that lasted only about 20 seconds. After that, everything clicked.

Sports Mafia hooked me instantly. Where the classic version was chaos, Sports Mafia was organisation. Where the classic version was “who shouts louder,” Sports Mafia was balance. Where the classic version was guessing, Sports Mafia was logic.

Sports Mafia is a mathematically balanced game. Fair, clean, predictable in structure — no matter which team you are playing for. That was exactly the kind of game my brain had always wanted.

I started playing twice a week in Brisbane — every Wednesday in the English-speaking club, every Friday in the Russian-speaking one. I didn’t plan anything serious. I didn’t look at the scoreboard. I just played because I enjoyed it. So when I suddenly ended up as a finalist for the 2025 season — yes, it surprised me too.

One thing I love about Mafia is that it’s one of the best socialising games ever created. In New Zealand, I played with friends. In Brisbane, it worked the opposite way: I joined the club and found friends there. Many of my closest friends today are Mafia players. (Yes, they are reading this and nodding, “muhahahaha.”)

At the club, we have Mamba — the organiser and a fantastic player. She helps everyone grow, gives honest advice, and somehow always finds the mafia when she plays red. And when she plays mafia… well, may God help the red team.

Speaking of memorable moments — once, when I was Mafia Don, we eliminated a strong player (Cartie) on the first night. During his last speech, I showed him a gesture pretending that I had “checked” player #4 and discovered he was mafia. Completely untrue, of course. But with a straight face and good timing, it worked — I managed to eliminate a red player simply by using someone else’s voting hand and pokerfacing like a real mafia professional. That’s the beauty of the game: you never know which unexpected trick will win you a day.

My playstyle is calm, logical, and pattern-based. I enjoy solving the puzzle from zero information — it feels like untangling a knot. The hardest part for me is playing on dark cards. As mafia, you must run two lines at the same time and decide when to go against your “team” at the table. It’s intellectually demanding and emotionally tricky. But if you can say total nonsense with a straight face — congratulations, you are improving as a mafia player.

I’ve had far more stressful situations in life than anything that happens at a game table, so emotional pressure doesn’t bother me much. What does matter is communication. In my opinion, quiet players die first — if you don’t talk, you don’t exist.

Mafia, surprisingly, teaches you a lot about real life. How to “play” with the people you’re stuck with. How to work with the cards you’ve been dealt. How to build a team with people you don’t know yet. It’s extremely good practice for business and even politics. You learn to stay calm, handle difficult people, navigate conflict, and still present yourself clearly. And sometimes you learn that nobody believes the Sheriff — which is also true in life more often than we think.

My biggest improvement over time? I can “speak” without speaking — using only gestures. And I understand what “balance” means now — a concept that beginners struggle with, but which changes everything once you get it.

I analyse my games by watching Brisbane Mafia Club videos on YouTube. I watch other players. I listen to their logic. I steal good ideas and try to create new ones. My future goals are simple: play better, act faster, read clues quicker, and make smarter moves.

I want to help new players because I remember how overwhelming everything felt at the beginning. Too many abbreviations, too many rules, too much information to remember. If someone had given me a simple friendly guide, it would have saved me months of confusion — so now I’m writing that guide for others.

And teaching also helps me grow. When I explain a concept, I understand it deeper myself. When I break down strategies for beginners, I become a better player too.

Outside of Mafia, I ride a Onewheel, travel, play Xbox from time to time, and solve logic puzzles. I’m not very competitive with other people, but I’m competitive with myself. I always try to improve my own results. My son sometimes plays Mafia as well — which is probably the most wholesome fact in this entire chapter.

I usually drink coffee before the games (even if they start at 6 pm). My favorite seat is #6, but I try to sit above 6 to challenge myself.

That’s me. A guy from Siberia who moved across the world, found himself in a logic game with masks and loud music, and decided to write a book so that you don’t have to feel lost the way I once did.

Oh, and I also make music for the Brisbane Mafia Club. Just another fun thing that came from this game.

Let’s continue to What is Mafia?