Category Archives: Poker Tales

“Medic, Table 12!”

It’s your day off and you haven’t purchased chips and taken a seat at the green felt for over 2 weeks. But today you’ve decided it’s time to go back. You stopped 2 weeks ago with a winning streak and you’ve been playing pretty strong – now your head is telling you it’s time to get back into the thick of it. Get involved and try to pick up a few stray dollars here and there because you have bills and the extra money would come in handy. Besides . . . you know that you’re the favorite in a lot of the lower limit games. ‘Nuff said.

You cruise into the room you used to work in and put your name on a $6-12 holdem game. Seven names on the list and you ask the brush if they’ll be starting a game soon. Several people drift by and chat for a moment, including the floor man. The decision is made to start the game but it will take a few moments to find a dealer, so you take a seat in a $3-6 holdem game while you’re waiting.
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The cost of doing business

You’re tired of punching that time clock and saying, “Yes, Sir!” and “No, Ma’am!” You don’t want to wear a suit or a dress and heels anymore and have to pick up the load when someone else doesn’t do their job. You’re sick of never being able to make more money than everyone else around you and being married to the ‘grind’! You’re ready to go to work for yourself!

You start figuring out how much cash you have on hand and how much cash you can borrow and what type of business you want to set up and where. First you look at real estate, scan the paper for businesses that are up for sale, check with real estate agents on properties with great locations, even check other states and cities. Whew! Expensivvvvve won’t even begin to describe this.
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Locals vs. Tourists

You’ve entered the game at half time or maybe it’s the 3rd day or whenever you found the time to get there and get seated.

The locals are grim, holding their position, after all…they’re defending home turf. The tourists are jovial and reckless, throwing their chips into the pots, laughing as they pull back more and stack and stack and stack. The locals are losing…they have no cheering section and each time they lose a pot, they make comments about the tourists. They’re so nasty, a referee might throw a flag on them …but there are no referees in this battle.
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Name Brand Players

A past World Series winner moves through the poker room – his dorsal fin riding high, up out of the water. He barely glances at anything other than the high limit section where he’s heading. He’s trying to pick out the next fish that’s flopping and bleeding, which is the scent that brought him here. He’s cruel and cold, malicious to dealers and capable of using every swear word known to mankind when he takes a beat, couldn’t possibly be his play or the random run of the cards, after all . . . he’s a major tournament winner!

Poker rooms are filled with them – those that will never know that fleeting moment of victory in a tournament and those that never play tournaments. They aren’t all the same, some of them amble and graze. Some of them are like magpies, floating in and then flapping out, harping and yakking about everything in general and nothing in particular.
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Welcome to Hell

You sit down in the dealers box, scramble up the deck, and shuffle and deal the first hand of your shift. The player in the 3 seat has “the look” tattooed on his/her face – can’t be removed even with laser surgery. Of course you know what “the look” is. There’s anger, hatred, frustration and blind, stupid, ‘I’m to dumb to figure it out’, pouring out of their eyes and it’s all directed right at you.

Win or lose, that player is going to try to make your life as miserable as possible throughout the short time you spend dealing to him/her. Their cards either come in just short of light speed or they sit one inch from the player’s hands.
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Cheaters never prosper

Your new to poker. You’ve wanted to play more than once but every time you thought about it, your temperature went up, your breath started to explode in and out of your lungs, your heart began to race and you felt an anxiety attack coming on that would send even a lepton to a cardiac specialist.

One day…from some unknown reason…you decide to sit down in a poker game. A real live game with a center dealer, in a casino. You’ve read a few books and listened to all of your friends talk about how it’s the best play in the casino, “There’s no house edge! You play against the other players and a lot of them are tourists!” Which means they are inexperienced like you – and it’s all in fun anyway. Right? Right!!!!
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Pardon me, Officer

Look at the game on table 10! All new faces, no leisure suits or fans and more chips on the table than the cashier’s cage has in it. The pots are so big the dealer has to forklift them to the winner, which by the way, (no matter who it is), is still stacking chips while they reach for the next hand. This could be the game of the year. Year? Hell . . . this could be the game of the century!

You’re already on the transfer list, (that’s a given when you walk through the door), and someone wants to move from table 10. You walk over and take a quick look to see if the person who wants to transfer has a Dr. bending over them. No one with a brain or a pulse could leave that game.
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Dead in the water

You’ve been on a roll – you’re picking up Aces and Kings and winning with them. Picking your spots and games – shifting gears for the curves and speeding up at the perfect time and braking for the downgrade with the skill of a veteran, cross country hauler. You’re so used to leaving the game with a win that when it turns around, you’re not sure if these are your cards or if you’re at the right card room or even if you’re awake. This could be a nightmare.

The game is rocking and rolling around you. You’re in the big blind – player “A” (in late position and new to the game) raises – the button and the small blind both call – there are three players behind you that have played every hand since you sat down and you know they’re calling. You look down to the J-9 of diamonds and call. As predicted the other three climb right into the action.
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License to live

You’re here to play. The game is $75-150 Stud and everyone at the table is serious. Their skin appears almost gray with the need to win. The chips are slamming into the pots and its 3 and 4 way action every hand. Chips are being moved across the table like casinos are imploded in Las Vegas.

There’s a guy (Da Guy) in the three seat that looks like he has no business being in the game. Da Guy’s antsy, younger than most of the players. He stands up – watching the game at the next table which is $40-80 stud – then he’s back in his seat, putting up an ante for the next hand. Fidgeting back and forth, he watches the dealer like a hawk ready to swoop in and pick up his next meal.
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How much is enough?

Consider the following and please don’t ever tell anyone that these stories might be true – even though they probably are.

One night Sam Sham gets off work at Caesar’s Palace and decides to go to the Horseshoe with a couple of his buddies. They are planning on cashing their checks and gambling, having a few drinks, maybe some food and then heading for home.
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