Rebel Rescuer

I’ve been staying away from the poker tables quite a bit these days and its beginning to get to me.  Things have been hectic.

As the 2007 WSOP comes to a close, I find that instead of being there…I’m here.  And not spending much time on the felt.  Things are busy here at the House of Insanity and I’m scared to death that I’ll start losing my percentages and revert back to amateur mistakes that I was making four years ago.

I first learned the game of poker from my grandma who was every inch a proper lady….with a wild streak.  She liked cards, big shiny new cars, Neil Diamond, and anything that seemed like an adventure.  And so it was that she taught my brother and I how to play five card stud one day during summer break.  What she DIDN’T teach us was how to bluff.  Nope, that I taught myself that very day.  See, my brother and I were very competitive when it came to games, even betting our candy hordes on things like Monopoly and Rummy.  And so it was that I bet out my grandma and my brother to reveal that I had nothing in my hand at all.  I can still remember my gorgeous grandma throwing her head back and laughing at my ability to bluff….when I hadn’t even been taught.  I was exactly seven years old.

I’ve played poker on and off since then, but rarely go back to the old stud and draw games.  A few years ago I was introduced to Hold Em and have had a torrid love affair with it ever since (with Omaha being my hunky pool boy).  Maybe its not just the game, but the players, the dealers, the hole cards that you hope won’t be a 7-2 in the big blind.  Its putting my hair in a ponytail and playing the part of a dumb girl.  Yeah guys….I’m afraid to say that you’re hardwired to fall for that one.  Its watching pulses, watching faces (which are simply windows to thought), and hunkering down behind a stack of chips.  I really can’t explain more than that.  If poker were something that wasn’t played in the underground, it would be as respected as chess.  But the clientele is different; making it seem like a backroom gamble that only those skirting the gray line of good and bad can play.

And that’s another reason why I love it.

What most people don’t realize about poker is the relative “gamble” in it is minimal.  Is there luck involved?  Absolutely.  But there is skill involved that combines the actor with the mathematician, the banker with the bouncer, and the flirty girl with the serial killer.  The demographic is simple really…there is none.  Granted you see a lot of the baby boomers with their khaki shorts and L.L. Bean caps…but then you see the street-smart kid, and the rich housewife.  Whoever (or whatever) they are, it doesn’t matter when you’re all face to face over two thin pieces of cardboard (or plastic).

And yeah, you catch cold streaks that will freeze you to the bone…and hot streaks that will keep you grinning for weeks.  Its an emotional game and not for the weak.  Its an old best friend, an old enemy, and that nasty junior high gym coach all rolled into one.  But one thing its not is boring.

So I’m going to try and hit the felt again in the very near future, once things have slowed down a bit.  If I’ve learned nothing else, its to NOT play when your head is elsewhere.  I’ve done a good job of that.  But I still know that the odds of backdooring a set on the river is 4%.

And wouldn’t my grandma be proud?