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Be advised
that a Texas Holdem Poker Craze is sweeping the nation. Almost every
night there are poker tournaments on television. And if you think that
watching people play cards on television would be boring, I have three
words for you: correct-o-mundo.
The problem is that there's not a lot of
action in televised poker, where the most strenuous thing the players do
is push small plastic chips a distance of about 15 inches. (Granted,
this is more action than you see in televised golf.) To make matters
worse, poker players do not betray any feelings. So, most of the time
what you have, visually, is a bunch of grim-faced guys sitting around a
table, looking like a hemorrhoid support group. Most of the emotion is
supplied by the TV commentators, who, in hushed, dramatic tones, say
things like:
"He's thinking about what to do here, Bob."
"You just know that, inside, he is churning
with emotions, Bob."
"I'm sure glad I took powerful
methamphetamines before this broadcast, Bob."
The guys on TV are usually playing Texas
Hold Em, which is the hottest poker game at the moment, although there
are many other popular variations of poker, including Seven-Card Stud,
Five-Card Draw, Alabama Grope 'Em, Omaha High Low, Iowa Bore 'Em,
Six-Card High Low Medium Jacks Wild Stud Draw Go Fish, Cincinnati Lawn
Flamingo, Florida Recount 'Em, Kansas City Clam Enhancer, Arkansas Geld
'Em, New Jersey Whack 'Em, New York Kvetch 'Em, Red Rover and Whist.
All of these games are essentially the same:
A person (or, in poker slang, "dealer") gives you some cards ("cards"),
which you look at in a furtive manner ("sneaking a gander") to see if
you have a good hand ("bling bling"), after which you bet (or "kiss the
eel") by placing money ("cheese") into the pot ("marijuana"). This goes
on until somebody ("not you") wins, at which point all the losers
express heartfelt congratulations in colorful slang terms.
Sounds like a lot of fun, right? Not to me,
either. But as I say,
Texas Holdem poker is
sweeping the nation, and so recently I decided to experience it
firsthand by going to the poker room at the Miccosukee Resort & Gaming
casino, located west of Miami, right next to the Everglades, which makes
it one of the few casinos in the world where not only can you gamble --
excuse me, I mean "game" -- but you can also experience the excitement
of knowing that you could be attacked by an alligator in the parking
lot.
I've never played serious poker, so I took
along a friend, Philippe Boets, who is an expert. Unfortunately, he's
not an expert on poker: He is an expert on petanque, an extremely French
sport where you toss steel balls around, the object being to eventually
stop and have lunch. Philippe is president of Petanque America, which
consists largely of Philippe. When I thought about a possible companion
for my poker expedition, his name came immediately to mind because of a
certain indefinable quality he has, which I would define as "not having
a real job."
On the way to the casino, Philippe told me
that in the only poker game he had played, each player stuck a card onto
his forehead, so that he couldn't see it, but all the other
players
could.
"Then what?" I asked.
"I don't remember," Philippe said. "There
was a lot of rum."
Things were much more serious in the casino
Texas Holdem
poker room, where the tables were fully occupied
by grim chip-pushing hemorrhoid-support groupers. There was a nice lady
there, and Philippe and I asked her how we could get into a game. She
asked if we knew how to play, and we said, sure, we knew the basics, in
the sense of being able to recognize most of the cards on sight. That
did not satisfy her. She wanted to know if we knew the winning hands,
and we had to admit that we did not. She told us, apologetically, that
we would not be welcome in the games, because the groupers get upset
when, in the midst of all the rapid-fire dealing and bluffing and
betting, a novice player (or "moron") says something like: "Okay, does a
flush beat a trump?"
So, Philippe and I did not get to
participate in the national Poker Craze. Instead, we went to the bar and
participated in the national Beer Craze, after which we spent a couple
of hours losing money at the slot machines. This is an unbelievably
mindless activity. It's only a matter of time before it's huge on TV.
("She's pulling the handle again, Bob.") |
