Poker in the front, liquor in the rear
There’s a certain notion in chaos theory that says small variations in the initial conditions of a dynamic system can cause massive variations in the long-term behavior of the system. If you cut out all the weenie-thought from that, what you have in everyday terms is something called “The butterfly effect”, the idea that a butterfly flapping its wings in Japan can cause a tornado in Texas a week later.
Life is a dynamic system.
My own butterfly flitted by almost a year ago, one June evening when I was flipping channels, looking for something interesting in a void land of reruns. Robyn read a magazine on the couch, oblivious to my plight.
Then I hit it, right there on the Travel Channel. Two men facing off at a table, a stunning pile of money heaped up beside them. Colored clay chips stacked in haphazard towers stood in front of each. Both men held two cards close, and they stared one another down like the cowboys of yesteryear.
“I’m all in,” one said, and pushed all his chips into the center of the table.
“Call,” said the other, and flipped over an ace and king of diamonds.
The first man grimaced, then turned up a pair of jacks.
The dealer began to dole cards out to the center of the table. First came three at once, called the flop. A five, a nine, and a queen. No help to anyone. That pair of jacks was looking better.
A fourth card dealt, called the turn. Another nine. The guy with the jacks clapped his hands; the man holding the A-K looked a little scared.
Finally, the last card. The river. The king of spades.
The man with the A-K flew into the air, the crowd erupted, and the man with the jacks slapped the table in disgust.
The winner got over on million dollars, and second place got almost $600,000.
I was hooked. Money, skill, and balls all met at one place: the No-limit Texas Hold ‘em table.
I could do that, I thought. I’m a pretty smart guy.
I began watching poker regularly, to my wife’s chagrin, learning the names and styles of the greats as they played. Howard Lederer, Phil Hellmuth, Doyle Brunson, all people I felt like I knew. Robyn even discovered Annie Duke, one of the greatest female tournament players around.
After a couple of months, it was time to put my money down and find out if I could play. I dropped $100 in at PartyPoker and started out on the $5 tables. I wasn’t too good, and only won occasionally. Seemed like all the time people with rags — crap cards — would stay in no matter how aggressively I bet, and end up outdrawing me by the end of the hand.
So I emailed Mr. World Series of Poker himself, Mike Sexton. Mike said, in essence, “Fred, you’re playing on $5 tables. People can afford to stay in with crap because it’s only $5. Try the $20 tables, or even the $30 ones.”
I’m sure the fact that he’s a paid promoter of PartyPoker had nothing to do with his advice.
I put $500 down and started out playing the $20 games. And I won. Before long I’d turned the $500 into $1000, and I jumped up to the $50 games. Turns out that’s where people start getting good. I lost for a while on the $50 games, then held my own for a bit, then slowly started winning. My $1000 turned into $3000, and I decided to play with the big boys.
I moved to the $200 tables.
At the same time, I started a poker group at work, playing every few weeks for $100 per game. Every time I played I placed in the top three, which meant I left the game with more money than I came with.
The $200 tables on PartyPoker were brutal. For a while. Eventually — and it took me almost a month of nightly games — I started winning there, too. I guess you guys know now why I don’t write as many entries as I used to. 
By November I had almost $10,000 in my PartyPoker account, from the initial investment of $600. Not too bad a return in my book. There were really only two things left to do for big money: start playing at the $1000 tables and start working on tournament play.
Since November I’ve made almost $75,000 playing the $1000 tables. Play up at that level is intense and brutal, with that sort of concentration, but the players are some of the nicest guys around. The relaxed conversation is a soothing solace from the knowledge that you’re gambling in a one-hour game what most people would be happy to make in a week. When you win a hand there, you’re complimented by the other players, instead of cussed at like down on the $5 tables.
I now know Gus Hansen and Daniel Negreanu personally — they play on the $1000 tables. Probably the most interesting person I’ve met, though, is a woman, possibly the best female player in the world. And before you even think it, no, I’m not having an affair. She’s almost old enough to be my mom and happily married.
Her name is Opal Forlis, and she’s the greatest player you’ve never heard of. Opal spent her formative years playing cash poker in smoky bars and floating up and down the Mississippi River. I’ve never seen anyone win like she does; sometimes I wonder if it’s even possible for her to lose.
Opal convinced me to put $5000 into a tournament with a first place prize of $200,000, and she stayed on the phone with me for the five hours it took me play it.
The final table.
I placed second in that tournament, and got a $90,000 prize. After gifting $15,000 to Opal for her help, I pocketed $75,000. For 5 hours’ work. Obviously, the $1000 tables were a waste of time compared to that kind of cash, but I still played them because tournaments don’t come along all that often.
After discussing it with Opal, I decided to try my hand in a World Series of Poker tournament at the Gold Strike in Tunica, Mississippi two weeks ago. The buy-in was $25,000 and first place was almost $3,000,000. Cash.
Because the tournament was filmed and will be broadcast on TV in May I can’t say much about how it went. I’m allowed to tell you this: I made the final table of 10.
I got to have dinner with Doyle Brunson at that tournament. Sitting at the table with Doyle and Opal was like a dream come true.
I can also tell you this: the results of that tournament were such that I’ve made a monumental decision. Yesterday, I sold my stakes in my software company to my partners and quit my job. I can make it as a professional poker player, and now’s my chance to prove it. Right now, there’s more than enough money to support us while I play, so Robyn’s reluctantly agreed to let me give it a shot.
I’m moving to Las Vegas for three months, to the city where big money is waiting to be picked off the trees. Robyn’ll stay here with the spud, and if I do well — is there really a doubt? — they’ll move out here with me in July.
I expect to be a millionaire by then.
And if I fail? Maybe I’ll try my hand at being a showgirl.
Ahem.
I’m really proud of you Fred.
I wish you luck in your new endeaver.
(smirk, wink)
Wow. You totally had me until Lori gave me my light bulb moment. Funny thing is, Fred, I think you a smart enough to do that type of thing! Heh.
oh… you two!
(i just came over here from robyn’s site)
Um…April Fool?
You and Robyn sure are 2 peas in a pod! Great stories though.
good April fool, I didn’t start to doubt you until the fourth time you “raised the stakes.”
Hee - another great April Fools story.
Good thing you lost all that weight,
Fred, in case you have to slip on the tights and hit the lights. Have a great time and say hi to the gang at CSI.
Liza
dang…I was rooting for seeing some leg in fishnet hose when you went the showgirl route….:heavy heavy sigh:
p.s.
you turd
Gosh, golly, Fred, isn’t this GREAT timing? You can take all your poker winnings and help pay for the twins!!!
{snort}
You two do have a gift for story telling, you really do. Thanks for a fun read!!!
Happy April 1st.
Nice. I feel like an April fool!
good story!
but I’d have to agree that Robyn’s was better :-p gave me a good giggle. heh
Bastard. I spent five minutes trying to figure out why you never mentioned the babies.
Nice anagram! ;-P
Damn, Fred. You are goooood!
I hate to tell you, though . . . becoming a showgirl will require more surgery . . .
Hmmmmmm……..I would love to come see you in your first show. Send me some tickets mmmmm’kay?
How will the twins react when they find out daddy is a showgirl?? LOL!
THINK OF THE TWINSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!
Are you taking the Boog for good luck? Nice one, Fred. Lirpa loof.
I hate you both. Toying with my emotions like that. Mean. Just plain MEAN.
I’m pretty sure you’re pulling an April Fool’s joke, but I’m not entirely convinced that Robyn is….for some reason I think she might actually be….are you going to let us in on the prank tomorrow?????
Not even close!!!! No way, not in a million years. Robyn’s was better. You ought to have a poll to see who’s was more believable.
Opal Forlis = LOL LOL LOL
Robyn’s had me completely speechless for a few minutes. I had to read the comments to realize it could be an April Fool’s joke. I am so gullible. (Of course, they COULD both be true! (In which case, you’ll have to write another book!)
ok…you had me totally. To the last sentence.
And on the end of the last sentence …when you said you were leaving Spud and wife for 3 months I was like “my Gawd his life has changed sooo much in the last 3 years…and…and…WAIT A FRIGGING MINUTE!!!!!!”
Damn you are GOOD.
I haven’t even read Robyn’s entry yet so really tried not to read after the first 2 comments on here.
Bless yer heart. I love you!
Well, I gotta say … Robyn’s was better.
I believed her, and came over here for your collaboration. But since there was no mention of her “indigestion’, well she put the April Fool over on me! But you didn’t.
I hate you.
Nah, I don’t, but you and Robyn have definitely given me some good laughs today.
Opal Forlis…I have to admit, that is pretty good. Didn’t even get it until the comments.
Besides, Robyn doesn’t seem the type to let you run off and play poker while she’s knocked up with a couple of rugrats
My wife reads your site every day, she just asked me, “Are you any good at poker?”
“Why?” I asked.
“You’ve gotta read this.”
I said, “Oh, it involves reading, never mind.”
“No really! You’ve got to check this out. I’m going to email it to you.” she exclaims even though we’re sitting right next to each other bumping elbows. She’s obviously very excited and thinks that somehow I’m going to make more money at poker then I do at something I’m good at.
I finish the last hand of the spades game I’m winning when suddenly there’s a defeated groan from this gullable woman next to me, “Oh god… It’s April 1st.”
I’d believe this if the tournaments were held Saturday mornings at…Publix.
Fred, you are one good storyteller!!
I bought it hook, line and sinker, but I also didn’t see it until the 3rd of April. The only time I was even slightly suspicious was when you said you were moving to Vegas for 3 months witoutht Robyn–yeah right!
Hell I clicked on 4-1 knowing it was an april fools… halfway thru the story I lost that thought and was just pissed nothing was mentioned as I could have drove to Tunica to see fred play!
See this is what happens when I take a break from reading your diary. April Fools wasn’t even on my mind a week later, so you had me completely snowed.
Well done, Fred