Baccarat Bond

I just watched the Casino Royale remake again, and I have to say, that the revamp is arguably cooler than the groovy original. However, there is an element of the old one that is unassailably cool, in the same way that '50s modern/Googie houses are way cooler than hulking, suburban-eclectic frankenhouses and soulless office parks that are filling every available field between your city's downtown and the nearest freeway.

In other words, Baccarat is long-gone optimisim, and poker is post-modern realpolitik.

I'll sell this thesis to a grad student for $1000. Any takers?

The Birthplace of America's Favorite Poker Variant.

Ever wonder where Texas hold 'em came from? Yeah, well a lot of people have. Apparently, the state legislature says it was born in a place called Robstown, Texas, a town of a little over 12,000 near Corpus Christi.

I played Texas hold 'em for about two hours the other night, losing a total of $43. I'm sort of getting the hierarchy of hands down; now my confusion centers around the river and all that other stuff. Oh well. At least I didn't have to shuffle.

Amblin' Gamblin'

My brother tried to teach me Texas Hold 'em last night. I was... well unteachable is a strong word for it, but I guess my attention span is such that learning this crap is going to be slow going. And also, I did some research on jockey's. I'll say this much: jockeys must really like riding horses. Jockeys are tiny little dudes who make less than I do for probably twice as much work. And they wear funny hats. And they sound like elves. Horse racing continues to confound me.

Gambling Rambling

Every time my band goes down to Corpus Christi, I always take note that we pass a dog track on the way. Now I know less about dog racing than I do about poker, but I do know that Santa's Little Helper came from one, and there's one in Ocean's Eleven. Why do they seem shady? Is it because it's a low-rent version of horse racing? I've never been to that either, but I hear it's exciting. A friend of mine won like $210 at Lonestar Park, which is mildly exciting. If I won that kind of money, I'd be totally elated.

Anyway, I don't know why I thought I'd be able to hit up a casino this weekend, as I have too much going on. Perhaps I should get involved in online poker; apparently, this dude I graduated high school with won a million bucks from placing fourth in the World Series of Poker 2006, and that's how he started. Of course, as I recall, he was good at math. And at some point, he was on crutches. I might grab a Texas Hold 'em game from Xbox Live tonight, see where that takes me. At least I'll only be dropping pretend money.

Bitten by the gambling bug

Getting the gambling bug again. Poker still eludes me (and I sprayed cards all over the living room while practicing my shuffling), but that's why there's cheapass blackjack. Thinking about going either to Winstar next Friday or the Horseshoe in Bossier City.

Wish me luck!

I have these cards. Do they win?

In 1986, there were several things I wanted to learn to do, but never got around to doing due to various reasons (lack of talent, incompetence, paternal edict, asthma, Force isn't real). For example, I had this friend named Boyd, and his older brother and his friends listend to Metallica and skated pools. At 8 years old, this was probably the closest I was going to get to meeting Spider-man. Boyd's older brother had a bunch of LPs scattered around his room. The two I remember were The Joshua Tree, which seemed lame to me even then, and Master of Puppets. At that point, MOP was the fastest music I had ever heard. I thought Boyd's brother and his friends (and while I can't remember the brother's name, though I know he played soccer at Chapman University, I can remember that one of the friends called himself Stiv) were pretty much gods, and I came home talking about the Bones Brigade, and McTwists, and "Boyd's brother's Metallica music" (as if it had been commissioned by him) and a host of other mid '80s skate crap I didn't understand. So I really wanted to skate. Problem was, my parents didn't think this was something I should really get into, especially given that I was in the nascent stage of a decade long competitive swimming career. I still wish I'd bugged them about Powell Peralta more.

Anyway, in 1987, I really wanted to learn to skate. I still do. I even started last year. I have yet to drop into a bowl, mostly because I'm pushing 30 and am a big chicken. Even Big Bird thinks I'm a pussy. But the other thing I've wanted to be proficient at since I was eight is poker.

This hasn't happened yet, and here's why:

I literally can't shuffle. I understand the mechanics of it, just as I understand the mechanics of dropping into a pool and making frontside grinds on the coping. I am just physically incapable. I don't know why. I have all my digits, and they're all sufficiently strong. I have just never been able to master the operation.

The other reason is that I simply can't follow the rules. No matter how hard I try, I have never been able to cement in my brain what beats what. I know that three of a kind is better than a pair, and a full house is better than three of a kind, and if you get a royal flush, hopefully there is a lot of money in the pot, but beyond that, I really have no idea. I even downloaded some moderately enjoyable strip poker game to my phone to further this education. All I've managed to get is frustrated that Hailey keeps her nipples covered in yellow stars.

But hey, I'm a pretty smart guy. Not Steven Hawking smart, of course, but I'm no Corky either. And after playing Gameloft Strip Poker (most often while on the toilet), I feel like I might be able get a handle on it. Until I read a recent Kevin Smith blog.

I played only premium cards, but we’ve got a donkey at our table who keeps raising what turn out to be shit cards. At one point, he puts me off my K/J suited with a twelve hundred buck bet on a 5/5/2 rainbow flop. Naturally, the turn is a King. Him and one other guy take it to the river in a massive pot that ends with the one guy’s pockets sixes getting rivered by a nine the donkey catches with his terrible 9/6 off-suit hand. There were other shit-beats, too, resulting in me being down to 9500 in chips, with which I had to make a move. The tables had just been rebalanced, there was about two minutes to go before a fifteen minute break, and I limp in with A/Q off-suit. The guy next to me raises 3k and gets a caller. I decide it’s now or never and go all-in. The guy next to me turns over ladies, the guy next to him turns over 10’s. Flop gives me an ace and top pair. The turn miraculously gifts this motherfucker with the only other queen in the deck, and he makes his set. I need an ace on the river to take down the monster pot, but alas, there’s no ace forthcoming. I’m done.

What the hell is he talking about?

And so begins my journey into poker.

Steve