Underground Poker in New York: Then and Now

With this week’s installment of “Poker & Pop Culture” I am moving over to talk about some early poker clubs that pop up late in the 19th century and early in the 20th. Really my focus is more so on the stories that emanated from these clubs, with a new, literary form being created -- the “club report” compiling stories of poker hands and other events happening in these games.

Today’s column highlights David A. Curtis’s collection from 1899 called Queer Luck, one of the better examples of these story collections. Most of the stories have to do with an unnamed club in uptown New York City.

The NYC poker clubs remained prevalent and popular throughout the 20th century, of course, with places like the Mayfair Club providing important inspiration for the 1998 film Rounders, something I mention that in today’s column.

I also mention a recent feature in The New York Post that appeared last week focusing on the NYC poker clubs. The article has the enticing headline “Inside the seedy world of underground NY poker clubs,” and begins as kind of an undercover bit of gonzo journalism with author describing himself entering an illegal game much like Mike McDermott and Worm do in Rounders.

The piece kind of moves away from that angle, though, and instead we get some quotes from Mickey Appelman, Erik Seidel, and a fellow named “Johnny M.” regarding the clubs’ history over the last few decades. It’s a fun, relatively brief read, if you’re curious.

Meanwhile, if you want to go back a century for some other stories of underground games in New York, check out the Poker & Pop Culture column:

Poker & Pop Culture: Card-Playing Characters in Early Poker Clubs

Image: Rounders (1998), Amazon.

Pay Dat Man Hees Mahney

Some of you have probably seen this already, but I thought I’d end the week by sharing it here, anyway.

A tip of the fedora to our buddy, Remko Rinkema, for having tweeted about it yesterday -- a short three-minute clip from a longer interview Matt Damon recently gave to BBC Radio 1.

During the clip Damon talks about the 1998 film Rounders with which most of us in poker are still obsessed after all of these years.

Damon starts off by noting how when the film was made, the skill element in poker wasn’t appreciated by the larger public nearly as much as is the case today. He also chats a little about having gotten the chance to visit the underground clubs in New York on which the ones in the film were based.

From there Damon moves on to share a hilarious anecdote about John Malkovich, a.k.a. Teddy KGB. I won’t spoil the fun if you haven’t seen the clip yet, other than to say it involves Malkovich appearing to confess to a major bluff to Damon while actually only making a smaller one:

Image: Rounders (1998) (dir., John Dahl), Amazon.

Recent Reads

Thought I’d take a post today to pass along some interesting poker-related reads from the last few days.

Last week over on BLUFF there appeared a lengthy, entertaining feature by Will O’Connor describing “The Last Hours of the Taj Mahal Poker Room” that’s worth a look.

Late last year it appeared as though the Trump Taj Mahal would become the fifth Atlantic City casino to close in 2014, though it managed to remain open after declaring bankruptcy in September, then settling a major dispute with employees over the paying of benefits, then getting a $20 million loan from a creditor in late December to help keep the doors open.

The poker room -- the one Mike and Worm take a trip to in Rounders and a one-time focal point of east coast poker -- closed down just before midnight on February 15th, and the feature describes in detail the scene during those final hours. Word is there are intentions to reopen the room this summer, although that plan (like the future of the Trump Taj Mahal) is uncertain.

Late last week another longish -- not entirely unrelated -- piece went up over on Rob’s Vegas and Poker Blog titled “Dominick Muzio and the State of Poker Today.”

Readers of this blog have likely found Rob’s blog over the last three-plus years since he started it to share interesting stories of his own low-limit adventures among many other items of poker-related interest. In this post he speaks at length with Muzio, a dealer in LV since 2009 who also works as a floor/shift supervisor at Treasure Island.

The theme of the conversation concerns why live poker has become less fun (and less popular) of late, and Muzio shares a number of thoughts to help explain that trend while also proposing ideas for reversing it. Some topics covered include math-versus-feel players, the dominance of no-limit hold’em, payout schedules for tournaments, the (relative) lack of online poker, and the social aspect of the game.

Check it out, and for an addendum adding other thoughts on the same issue see Grange95’s post “Making Poker Fun Again.”

Finally, you probably heard about the Bitcoin-based Seals With Clubs site going down a couple of weeks ago, and now apparently for good. You might also have heard how Bryan Micon, the best-known face of the site, had his Las Vegas home raided by gun-toting agents serving a warrant from the Nevada Gaming Commission.

Giovanni Angioni spoke with Micon for PokerNews and the interview appears amid a feature explaining what happened with the site and the raid titled “Seals With Clubs Chairman Bryan Micon: ‘The Police Raid Was Completely Unnecessary.’”

Micon talks about the history and final demise of Seals With Clubs, his hasty move to Antigua, and plans for the impending launch of SwC 2.0. Kind of a wild, confusing story, and thus another intriguing read.

November Nine Not New to Newhouse

Before the bubble burst in the World Series of Poker Main Event when there were still 746 players left, I wrote a Day 4 preview in which I included a few “Regarding the Record Books” items collected in a short section near the end.

The obvious item to include in that category was Ronnie Bardah going for his fifth straight year of cashing in the ME, something he’d manage to accomplish that day. Bardah broke a tie with a half-dozen other players to establish a new record all on his own.

Allen Cunningham entered the day with 314,000 chips -- the average was a little under 269,000 -- and with only 53 eliminations to go until the money looked like he’d probably be picking up his seventh career ME cash and thus move into a tie for fifth on the all-time list. So Im mentioned that. He didn’t get it.

Finally, I noted how Mark Newhouse was the sole remaining November Niner from a year ago still alive in the event, tossing in that if he somehow made it back to the final table it would be the first time in 10 years anyone ever pulled off the feat. Dan Harrington, of course, finished third in 2003 (when 839 played) and fourth in 2004 (when 2,576 did), marking the last time it had been done.

Really, though, that was a stretch even to mention before Day 4. “There’s a long way to go,” I added by way of disclaimer, noting that Newhouse still had four days of poker to survive to make it there.

The Chapel Hill, North Carolina native entered that Day 4 in 131st of 746 -- a bit better than Cunningham’s position, but by no means in an especially advantageous spot to assure a deep run. By day’s end there’d be 291 left and he was 27th in the counts. Then after Day 5 he’d pushed into the chip lead with 79 remaining, and the idea of a return trip to the final table began occurring to many.

He would start Day 7 in 11th position of 27, which made referring to the possibility much more reasonable in yesterday’s preview. Then he did it, finishing last night third in chips of the final nine.

So far in two consecutive Main Events Newhouse has outlasted 13,017 players -- a lot more than Harrington did during his back-to-back final tables, not to take away from the accomplishment of “Action Dan.” Was thinking at first that had to be a record, then I remembered Dennis Phillips took third in 2008 (out of 6,844) then 45th in 2009 (out of 6,494), meaning Phillips outran 13,290 others during those two years.

Something kind of incredible, though, about final tabling this tourney in consecutive years.

People on the forums are rightly bringing up Mike’s old line from Rounders, the one he says with agitation to Jo when defending poker as a skill game. “Why do you think the same five guys make it to the final table of the World Series of Poker every year?” he asks. “What, are they the luckiest guys in Las Vegas?”

The line was more applicable in 1998 than today, although even then the fields for the WSOP Main Event were getting big enough that you weren’t seeing too many return trips to the final table by players. That’s why Harrington’s was so special, as was Mike Matusow’s in 2005 (after having gotten there in 2001) and the near-miss of 2001 champion Carlos Mortensen last year when he finished 10th.

Those quoting the line with reference to Newhouse are doing so ironically. With so many playing, it’s absurd to think the same guys are going to get back to the WSOP ME final table “every year.”

But somehow Newhouse is there again. Part of another November Nine. And another four-month delay during which he’ll be earning a lot more attention this time than he did last year.

There are some stories in this final nine -- the foosball champion, the Dutch leader with some big online scores and stories, the first Brazilian ever to make a WSOP ME final table, a couple who’ve never cashed at the WSOP at all and a few others with only a few small scores in prelims before.

But Newhouse’s return will be the main thread in the narrative from here to November, there’s no doubt. As it should be.

Poker, First Hand

There was a nice tribute a few days ago penned by Rounders co-scriptors Brian Koppelman and David Levien to their friend Joel “Bagels” Rosenberg who died last week. As they explain in the piece (posted on Grantland), Rosenberg had been a primary inspiration for the character of Joey Knish (portrayed by John Turturro), and a more general influence on the film as a whole.

As the screenwriters tell it, they played their very first hand at the Mayfair with Rosenberg, with his character and personality clearly becoming a central feature of the place for them going forward, and still an important part of their memory of it today.

“We tried to suffuse Rounders with Bagel’s attitude, which was wry, wise, and full of heart,” they write of their friend while relating the story of how he’d become a kind of “tour guide” for them helping them understand the life of a professional grinder -- the pre-”boom,” pre-tourney kind, that is, such as represented by Knish.

I like especially the note regarding Rosenberg’s kindness -- yes, there are friends in poker -- with the reference to his generosity again reminding us of Knish helping out Mike after his early gutting by Teddy KGB.

We’ve known for a long time how much of the world of Rounders and most (if not all) of its characters were inspired by the Mayfair as Koppelman and Levien experienced it during the years preceding the film’s release in 1998, just a couple of years before the club was shut down as part of Mayor Rudy Giuliani’s campaign to clean up New York City.

A similar tutelage is arguably necessary for any storyteller -- that is, to have experienced something resembling the world one wishes to create and share with others in a fictional form. And if your subject is poker and most of your themes are rooted in the game, too, it’s probably even more important that there be some actual experience with the game and the subculture surrounding it to provide the needed support for one’s tale.

You know, first hand knowledge. The kind of thing that with poker is very hard to bluff.

Check out the tribute and learn more about “Bagels.”

Transatlantic Triple Feature

On my flight from France to Philly on Sunday I watched three different movies.

The first was Gravity, a visual effects-laden spectacle of a film for which viewing on a small screen on the back of the seat in front of you isn’t necessarily ideal. But I had my noise-canceling headphones to help me enjoy the effective soundtrack and I was well engaged in from start to finish.

Experimental in some ways, the film does many interesting things throughout both technically with regard to editing, framing, and so on as well as narratively with its limited cast and relatively narrow plot. Sandra Bullock is especially good and George Clooney likewise effective in a smaller role.

It did feel at times like I was watching some sort of role-playing-slash-simulation video game, thereby causing some occasional emotional detachment, but there were some genuinely moving moments, too, that ably reinforced the various thematic suggestions made by the title. A satisfying hour-and-a-half.

From there it was We’re the Millers, the R-rated comedy purposely chosen for the contrast it suggested as a much less intense trifle. Which it was. A few yuks here and there, but pretty forgettable. Both Jason Sudeikis and Jennifer Aniston are great comedians, but they’re kind of weirdly cast here.

I was about to shut off the sucker when I scrolled through and saw Runner Runner among the choices, and so despite the preponderance of negative reviews I decided to dial it up to complete the triple feature. Sort of felt obligated to, given its poker connections and attempt to spin a thriller-type plot from the insider cheating scandals and other examples of fraud and corruption from online poker’s first decade.

Not going to give a full-blown review of this one, either, but will make three quick observations about the film.

1. Some effort has been made by proponents of regulated online poker to suggest Runner Runner provides a persuasive argument in favor of their cause. The film is set in what is essentially a pre-Black Friday, anything-goes environment, and thus some have suggested that it helps show the need for regulation as a means to prevent the shenanigans perpetrated by Ben Affleck’s character, the Costa Rica-based online gambling mogul Ivan Block.

Having watched the film, such a reading seems incredibly blinkered. Any clear-headed observer not ensconced within our narrow little world of poker couldn’t possibly view Runner Runner as representing anything positive when it came to our favorite card game.

From the opening montage it demonizes gambling of all kinds, with poker only barely distinguished as a game involving some form of decision-making by players. Sure, it starts out making a banal point that “everybody gambles,” but does nothing thereafter to suggest this truth about human nature is a good thing. To think the film actually supports any kind of gambling (including poker) seems like a crazily convoluted response.

2. I refer to an “opening montage,” but in truth the entire film plays like one long montage with ridiculously short, television-like scenes that feel more like a sequence of YouTube clips than a coherent narrative.

The Rounders guys, Brian Koppelman and David Levien, co-scripted the film, and I see Koppelman on Twitter sharing his “six-second screenwriting lessons.” I almost feel like the editor of this film was observing a similarly abbreviated limit throughout when it came to scene length -- not six seconds, but not much more.

Characters are presented hastily and for the most part aren’t developed at all. Only the main protagonist, Richie Furst (Justin Timberlake), experiences any kind of change in outlook over the course of the film, a change that is not just obvious but also tedious to watch play out.

3. Justin Timberlake is a talented performer and definitely has some comic instincts that have served him well in other contexts (e.g., SNL, Bad Teacher). But he’s a huge deficit in a drama requiring any sort of real presence.

It was the third movie in a row for me -- and something like 12-14 hours into my day of travel -- but I literally was struggling to keep my eyes open during the predictable, unsatisfying finale.

In other words, kind of like the ending of the Super Bowl.

Obvious Tells Are Obvious

I think some of you have probably seen this already, but I wanted to share it here for those who hadn’t -- a recent post by Reading Poker Tells author Zach Elwood for the popular site Deadspin called “Five of the Most Obvious Poker Tells Ever Televised.”

It’s a cool article for a number of reasons, including the fact that Zach includes YouTube clips of the hands to go along with his commentary explaining the tells on display. I also dig the inclusion of an Oreo cookie in the accompanying illustration which is even funnier when you realize Zach doesn’t even talk about Teddy KGB in the piece.

All five of the featured hands kind of fit in a similar category filled by players with huge holdings trying to mask their strength. But Zach does a neat job with each hand breaking down the different kinds of behaviors being demonstrated, adding a useful caveat that while the tells in the clips are all fairly obvious, many “are seen in much more subtle forms in more experienced players.”

I’ll let you click through to enjoy the clips and the analyses yourself, but I wanted also to mention how I like the way Zach begins the article.

Writing for the wide audience that reads Deadspin, Zach starts out noting the fact that “the poker tell is one of the most romanticized ideas in gambling.” He then points out how “in reality” tells often work differently -- “usually more subtle than they are in the movies.”

That distinction between a romantic version of poker (such as is often presented in film) and a realistic one is something I find myself going back to time and again in my “Poker in American Film and Culture” class.

We watch a lot of clips in the class and thus see over and over again what Zach is talking about with regard to the exaggerated tells. But we also address the same romance-versus-reality debate in a number of other contexts, too, such as when we read Al Alvarez’s The Biggest Game in Town and talk about the difference as representing different approaches to the game.

That’s a discussion I’ve had here before amid a long exegesis of one chapter of Alvarez’s book, if you’re curious.

Save reading my old post for later, though, and go enjoy Zach’s new one now if you haven’t already.

Nothing Funner: New Trailer for Poker-Themed Runner, Runner

Not much time available today for scribbling, and so I’m just going to pass along this item that popped up today, the trailer for the film Runner, Runner, due out in late September.

The film has captured the attention of poker people thanks to its subject matter and the fact that it was scripted by Brian Koppelman and David Levien, the same duo who wrote Rounders. Indeed, if you go back a couple of years, some of the first references to Runner, Runner suggested the film might be a sequel, although it clearly isn’t that.

Rather the film looks like some sort of thriller that uses the Absolute Poker and UltimateBet insider cheating scandals as partial inspiration. A talented player and grad student (played by Justin Timberlake, who also played some poker in the ludicrous sci-fi flick In Time) gets cheated, then decides to go to Costa Rica to confront the site’s owner (played by Ben Affleck) who persuades him to work for the site. All is hunky dory until the FBI enters the picture, and from there it looks like the student becomes embroiled in a larger criminal plot that appears to extend considerably beyond just being able to see players’ hole cards. Also, there are crocodiles.

Here’s that trailer:

I’ve read a few items about Runner, Runner over the last several months, but I haven’t really looked into it that deeply as yet. I did exchange several messages with Koppelman at one point a long while back -- over a year ago -- and in fact he agreed to an interview with me about the project.

I was quite eager to speak with Koppelman after having taught Rounders several times in my “Poker in American Film and Culture” class. I also liked Koppelman’s Grantland piece from a couple of years ago called “The Beauty of Black Friday” which I shared with my class on a couple of occasions as it fit fairly well inside the larger historical narrative we construct in the course.

Alas, the interview never happened. Koppelman strung me along for a while with postponements and requests to get back to him. But after he put it off a third time I gave it up, as he clearly had more important things to do than talk to me.

Interesting to see this trailer this week amid all of the hubbub surrounding Ben Mezrich’s Straight Flush: The True Story of Six College Friends Who Dealt Their Way to a Billion-Dollar Empire -- and How It All Came Crashing Down (mentioned here on Monday), a book that purports to tell the story of Absolute Poker but weirdly tries to fashion the site’s criminal and fraudulent founders as unfairly-treated heroic figures.

Have been reading Mezrich trying to defend himself on Twitter and in a 2+2 thread about it, but the more he says about his book the more he reveals a lack of knowledge about what happened at AP, the recent history of online poker, and what is meant by the label “True Story.”

It looks like Runner, Runner probably takes a few liberties here and there, too. But it ain’t a documentary, and so in that context embellishments -- including crocodiles -- are obviously fair game.

Rounders’ Game of Tell & Show

Kind of wiped out today thanks to a late night following some of these marathon SCOOP tourneys on PokerStars. Meaning there ain’t a lot in the tank for posting here at the moment. So let me send you over to another blog for an interesting read.

Not long ago I had the chance to read Zach Elwood’s new book Reading Poker Tells and ended up reviewing it over at Betfair. I enjoyed the book quite a bit, which does a neat job categorizing and describing a number of revealing behaviors at the poker tables. Check out my review for a full run down of what the book covers.

Zach also keeps a blog where he posts further on the subject of tells in poker. Over the last few months he’s posted some interesting analyses of the Pius Heinz-Martin Staszko heads-up battle for the 2011 WSOP Main Event bracelet. Those are some interesting reads, especially for those of us who watched that more-than-six-hour heads-up match play out on ESPN last November.

Anyhow, yesterday Zach published a post discussing tells in Rounders, going beyond the one we all remember -- Teddy KGB and his Oreos -- to point out others exhibited by both Teddy and Mike McDermott. Both characters are pretty transparent, really, with regard to their tells, although as Zach points out in his post the characters’ failings in this regard could well be considered part of the film makers’ intentions to convey certain things to the audience, including the non-poker people watching.

Thanks to my “Poker in American Film and Culture” course, I’ve been watching Rounders over and over again for the last few semesters as one of the films I assign to my class. Thus have I become pretty familiar with the tells Zach is describing in his post, as well as some other idiosyncracies in the presentation of poker scenes that may or may not have been intended.

I’m also picking up on other small things with each viewing, such as the neat symmetry between the backstory about Mike and Worm being involved in fixing a basketball game back at prep school and the later scene in the church gym. As back at prep school, Mike agrees one last time to team up with his friend in a plan to make some scratch, although like before things won’t work out.

Anyhow, check out Zach’s analysis of some tells in Rounders. Kind of thing would be neat to do with a lot of poker films, actually, since there is lot of overlap -- potentially -- between the non-verbal types of communication that happens at the poker tables and the language of cinema.

Back ’Round to Rounders

We discussed Rounders today in my “Poker in American Film and Culture” class, rounding off our unit of films. Just a couple more weeks left in the semester, during which time the students will pick a particular film in which poker is prominent and write an essay analyzing the film and its use of poker.

I’ve mentioned before here how I’ve always been kind of lukewarm about Rounders. But with each viewing I’m growing to appreciate it a little more, I think. It works especially well here at the end of the semester, bringing together all sorts of themes and ideas we’ve been reading about and discussing for the past three months.

It’s clear from those opening shots of classic poker strategy books like Mike Caro’s Poker Tells and Doyle Brunson’s Super/System that the film was made by people with a keen understanding and appreciation of the history of poker. Indeed, the script is peppered with many familiar, much-repeated lines from the two-plus century-long story of the game. Some of these are passed along by Mike McDermott in his voice-over narration with attribution, while others are uttered by characters without stopping to identify sources.

That “allusive” quality of the film makes it especially fun to watch and talk about at the end of the course, after we’ve read Cowboys Full by James McManus, The Biggest Game in Town by Al Alvarez, and many other essays and stories.

We’ve already read Doyle’s characterization of hold’em as “the Cadillac of poker” more than once by now.

We’ve seen reference to Amarillo Slim Preston several times, too -- even watched him and Doyle and others in a video in class -- and so recognize the reference when Mike quotes him talking about being able to “shear a sheep many times, but you can skin him only once” (noting how Worm never seemed to have learned that lesson).

We hear Teddy KGB complain about Mike having “alligator blood” at the end of the film, and we remember Johnny Moss saying the same thing about Stu Ungar at the 1981 WSOP near the end of The Biggest Game in Town.

And so on. References to the World Series of Poker resonate, too, since we have already discussed its central place in poker culture at present. And even situations the characters find themselves in throughout the film are mostly recognizable to us by now, having read those histories, short stories, Jesse May’s novel Shut Up and Deal, and watched other films including The Cincinnati Kid and California Split.

All of which is to say that while I still wouldn’t put Rounders at the tippy top of my list of poker movies -- or anywhere close to the top of a list of best movies, poker or otherwise -- I am enjoying certain aspects of David Levien and Brian Koppelman’s script more and more. And I especially like the way the film kind of encapsulates so many themes one finds in an extended survey of the culture and history of poker in America.

Low Battery

Those of you with iPhones, ever notice how whenever you are told your battery’s charge has fallen dangerously low, you are given just one option to select before you are free to do something about it?

“Dismiss.”

I mean, really... we can’t just keep being dismissive about such things, can we? Seems unhealthy. I mean, if we have to recharge, we have to recharge. Why always put off such necessary action with denials?

Speaking of, I freely admit that I am running a bit low on both time and energy today.

Regarding the former, not much time remains before I leave for Las Vegas on Tuesday. In Phil Hellmuth-like fashion, I’ll be arriving late to help PokerNews cover the WSOP over these final four weeks of the Series until the November Nine is determined on July 19. I am looking forward to the trip, and especially to reuniting with my many friends and colleagues who are already there. Meanwhile I am trying to take care of a lot of different matters and tie up some loose ends before I go, which is further taking up these few hours I’ve left.

Energy-wise, I’m running a bit low as well, having committed a lot of brain power to writing other pieces in addition to pushing forward on that second novel. Am trying to reach a point with that where I feel comfortable enough to leave it for a while when I’m at the WSOP.

I did want to point you to one of those other pieces, a feature for Betfair that went up today called “On Poker’s Brave New World.”

You might recall how I commented here last week on an exchange between Jesse May and Brandon Adams over the whole online sponsorship issue and how Black Friday had fundamentally changed things with regard to the sponsored pro. This week another interesting op-ed appeared that also touched on the subject, a piece called “The Beauty of Black Friday” by Rounders co-scripter Brian Koppelman.

I thought it would be worthwhile to pull together and compare all three writers’ arguments in a piece of my own, and so that’s what you’ll find if you follow the link above. There are issues I’d probably take up with each of the commentators (May, Adams, and Koppelman), but I do think all make interesting arguments and provide genuine insight into how things have dramatically changed for sponsored pros and poker in general. Their writings evoke a lot of ideas about poker and its place in contemporary culture that are worth considering as well.

I hope everyone has a relaxing, revitalizing weekend. See you on Monday when we’re all back to 100%.

Reflecting on Rounders

Crazy busy today. Later on this evening I’ll be flying to Peru where I’ll be helping Dr. Pauly cover the LAPT event happening there this week for the PokerStars blog. It’s a return trip for me, in fact, as I was there last June, the last time the tour touched down on the west coast of South America at Lima. That was the event in which Jose “Nacho” Barbero won his second straight LAPT title.

As a result, I have been taking care of various tasks before I go, among them finishing up the film unit in my “Poker in American Film and Culture” class before giving them a short break here prior to semester’s end.

Yesterday in class we discussed the last of our scheduled films, Rounders (1998). I included Rounders among our required viewings mostly because having shown a couple of older films (The Cincinnati Kid [1965] and California Split [1974]), I wanted to provide a bit of contrast by showing something relatively contemporary. I also thought the students would probably enjoy Rounders more than the older films, which indeed turned out to be the case.

I know for some of the students they were simply glad finally to see some hold’em on screen. And I’m sure there were those among them who preferred the more familiar-seeming vibe of the production, at least when compared to something like Robert Altman’s much more challenging (even experimental) California Split.

In fact, at one point in our discussion I pointed out that it was likely the case that a lot of poker on TV that has been produced since Rounders was probably influenced in certain ways by the way the poker is shown in the film. I don’t think this claim is too much of a stretch, really, and perhaps further underscores the historical importance of the movie as one that not only influenced a lot of players, but also the producers of televised poker over the last decade-plus.

That said, I’ve always been kind of lukewarm about Rounders, a film that includes several strong elements, but also a lot of weaknesses that tend to keep me from championing it too much as a either cinematic achievement in general or a “great poker movie” in particular.

I don’t have time today to spell out all of the problems I have with the movie, although I suppose I could collect them all under the general heading of “inconsistency” of which I think there are multiple varieties present in Rounders.

One is an inconsistency with reality, that is, the extent to which we are intended to understand the movie to be “realistic.” If you’ve seen the film, you know what I’m talking about -- those head-scratcher plot turns or character decisions that seem to beggar belief.

In class I alluded to one of my favorite examples of such improbability when I told the students if they ever thought about asking me for a loan of $15,000 (as Mike McDermott does his professor in the film), I could save them the trouble. (We shared a good chuckle over that.)

But there are also what might be called “internal” inconsistencies that exist within the world of the film -- that is, elements within the film which seem self-contradictory (never mind the degree to which they seem probable or not). And to me such problems tend to make Rounders less of an achievement when compared to the other films we watched.

Just to give one example, we all remember the argument Mike has with Jo on the street about how poker is not, in his opinion, to be regarded as “gambling” but rather a “skill game.”

Poker players love this scene, in which Mike makes the case for the legitimacy of the pursuit. “Why do you think the same five guys make it to the final table of the World Series of Poker every single year,” Mike says, exaggerating just a tad but we get his point. “What, are they the luckiest guys in Las Vegas?”

No, obviously they aren’t. Luck matters, but long-term success in poker requires skill, for sure. You tell her, Mike!

Why are they arguing in the first place? Because Mike -- after having previously sworn off poker as if it were a drug habit or some other ungodly vice -- had gone to play in a game with his buddy Worm, lied about doing so to Jo, and now is trying to defend his actions. He’s arguing that she’s mistaken to think poker is gambling, that it isn’t as morally objectionable as she seems to believe.

But wait a second... what happened at that game Mike and Worm were playing in, the one with the rich trust-fund kids in which they cleaned up?

Oh, right. They cheated. So no, it wasn’t gambling. But it wasn’t such an honorable pursuit, either.

Mike exhibits other inconsistencies of logic and/or character in the film, too, that I think complicate the coherency of the film’s ultimate messages -- about poker’s significance as well as other issues.

I’d say more, but the clock is ticking. Like Mike at the end of Rounders, I gotta plane to catch!

PokerStars WCOOP Concludes -- It’s a Skill Game, Jo

Poker players -- particularly those with a special desire or need to defend their game against accusations of it being mostly “gambling” or some other non-edifying, less-than-moral pursuit -- like to point out how the better players tend to succeed more often than not. Such evidence helps support the argument that the game does, in fact, require skill, despite the very real truth that chance does often govern how a particular hand or sesssion or tourney might go.

Last night I was up late again -- ’til about 3 a.m. my time -- helping cover the end of the PokerStars’ World Championship of Online Poker Main Event (a $5,000 + $200 buy-in no-limit hold’em event). Change100 and I handled the live blog, and as the night wore on we were marveling at the fact that Daniel “djk123” Kelly was building a huge chip lead once again. Kelly had already cashed 10 times in this year’s WCOOP series, and won two previous WCOOP bracelets, including one just the night before in the $10,000 + $300 High Rollers H.O.R.S.E. event.

Kelly was in the top ten when Day 2 of the WCOOP Main Event started yesterday (with 178 players still alive from the 2,144 who entered). With about 50 players left, Kelly charged into the chip lead and had a huge advantage for much of the endgame before finally falling in third place.

We were also noticing and reporting on several other recognizable names among those still around for the conclusion of this one. J.C. “area23JC” Tran -- who won the WCOOP Main Event in 2006 -- made a deep run and finished not far outside the top 100. Scott “dorinvandy” Dorin, who won a High Rollers event during the 2008 WCOOP, ended up finishing 61st. Layne “reloadthis” Flack was around at the end, too, getting eliminated in 55th.

A lot of the online names were familiar, too, having turned up time and again deep in these WCOOP events we’ve been covering, or having become recognizable after taking down big Sunday tourneys. There were a few who made it deep who hadn’t been “outed” officially, and so while we knew they were name pros we weren’t identifying them in the blog.

A couple who were eventually identified included Isaac “philivey2694” Haxton, who finished 31st, and Yevgeniy “Jovial Gent” Timoshenko, who ended up winning the sucker. Change100 and I covered Haxton back in the summer when he finished second to Vitaly Lunkin at that $40,000 WSOP event (Event No. 2). And, of course, we remember Timoshenko for winning that WPT World Championship event at the Bellagio this past April.

I had been up all night the previous evening writing up the report on Bertrand “ElkY” Grospellier’s victory in WCOOP Event No. 43 -- his second WCOOP bracelet of the series. So I was going on 40-plus hours without sleep when, noticing the preponderance of players who’d enjoyed repeat successes going deep in last night’s Main Event, when I confidently delivered the following thesis to Change100 in chat: “this must be a skill game.” “haha” she replied at my less-than-startling conclusion.

’Cos it’s obvious, ain’t it? We poker players love to quote Mike McDermott’s sort-of-hyperbolic-but-still-meaningful questioning of his girl, Jo, in Rounders when he asks “Why does this still seem like gambling to you? I mean, why do you think the same five guys make it to the final table of the World Series of Poker every single year? What, are they the luckiest guys in Las Vegas?”

Mike concludes “it’s a skill game, Jo.” Indeed, this year’s WCOOP provided still more evidence to support that ideer, I think.

Money is Nothing, Money is Everything

ESPN finally to show the final table of the 2006 WSOP Main Event tonight. Should be interesting. Still hard to imagine playing poker for that much money . . . .

As I alluded to in the last post, I find it difficult when playing not to remain concerned about what the chips on the table actually represent. I am almost always acutely conscious of the amount I am up or down in a given session. I am certain that this awareness is one (of several) factors keeping me playing lower stakes ($0.50/$1.00, mostly). There I can play my cards and the players without fretting over the size of the pot or what my stack might look like after the hand. And knowing that I am always playing with money I have won -- I have never had to reload since that initial buy-in long ago -- makes me even more comfortable with handling whatever risks I allow myself to take.

We often hear about how players of higher stakes are somehow able to avoid such distractions and focus on the game rather than how much scratch is moving back and forth across the table. “Money means nothing,” says Chip Reese to Al Alvarez in The Biggest Game in Town. “If you really cared about it, you wouldn’t be able to sit down at a poker table and bluff off fifty thousand dollars. If I thought what that could buy me, I could not be a good player. Money is just the yardstick by which you measure your success.”

Sounds like a hopeless paradox to me. Maybe to you, too. Money means nothing, but money is the ultimate “yardstick” -- the primary means by which we evaluate our play? Of course, what sounds paradoxical to us probably doesn’t seem that way to Reese or other high stakes players. They instinctively reconcile whatever contradiction most of us see there, then put it all in with nine-high.

Reminds me of a passage from Charles Willeford’s 1967 novel Pick-Up. The novel is one of the most intense examples of “hard-boiled” fiction you’re going to find, rivalling Camus in its exploration of existentialist thought. I recommend the book wholeheartedly to anyone interested in the genre. Those looking for “feel-good” stories need not bother. Nor should anyone who doesn’t like to expose him or herself to graphic, emotionally-draining descriptions of violence. I won't give away much in the way of plot details here. You've got to read this one to believe it. Trust me when I say this is one of those books that once you’ve reached the last page and have read the final lines, you will sit shaking your head for several minutes afterwards feeling a mixture of shock and admiration. And then you’ll never forget it. (Incidentally, do not read any reviews or analyses of the book first, as they may give away information that will affect your experience reading it.)

The story is told by Harry Jordan, a failed artist who now finds himself living a dissolute existence working odd jobs while dwindling into alcoholism. Late in the novel, Harry sits in prison waiting to be tried for murder. He’s convinced he will be found guilty and sent to the gas chamber. As he repeatedly tells jailers, lawyers, and other visitors to his cell, he actively desires such a fate. Knowing that he is about to die finally permits Harry to stop concerning himself with life -- something that had only barely concerned him previously, anyhow.

The day before his trial, Harry receives an unannounced visit from a man named Mr. Dorrell, an editor for something called He-Men Magazine. The magazine is interested in an “as-told-to” exclusive from Harry. They are willing to pay Harry one thousand dollars for such a story.

Harry rapidly dismisses Mr. Dorrell and his offer. He then reflects on the editor’s visit. “What kind of a world did I live in, anyway?” Harry asks the reader. “Everybody seemed to believe that money was everything, that it could buy integrity, brains, art, and now a man’s soul. I had never had a thousand dollars at one time in my entire life. And now, when I had the opportunity to have that much money, I was in a position to turn it down. It made me feel better and I derived a certain satisfaction from the fact that I could turn it down. In my present position, I could afford to turn down ten thousand, a million . . . ”

As Harry here explains, money no longer has significance for him, thus affording him a freedom to act as he wishes. Money meant little to him before (i.e., the rent, bottles of booze, the occasional steak). But now that he’s “in a position to turn it down,” Harry can act without worrying about consequences. Ironically, it is only here in prison that Harry finally begins to feel free of the constraints holding most of us back.

We think back to mythical characters like Stuey Ungar, the man Johnny Moss said had “alligator blood in his veins.” (Rounders steals this line, actually, when Teddy KGB says the same thing -- with undue hyperbole, I’d suggest -- to describe Mike McDermott.) At the end of The Biggest Game in Town, Alvarez describes Ungar’s victory in the 1981 World Series Main Event. When asked by reporters what he planned to do with the $375,000 that came with the bracelet, “Ungar ducked his head again, giggled, and muttered into his chest, ‘Lose it.’” The reporters don't seem to understand, so Ungar quickly revised his answer with a facetious “I’m gonna put it in the bank and give it to my kids, what else?”

Ungar, of course, mostly lived his life the way Harry Jordan is finally able to there in prison -- as if perpetually aware of an execution looming in the not-too-distant future. According to James McManus, Ungar played in only thirty or so NL hold ’em tourneys with $5,000 or higher buy-ins, and he won nine of them (including the three WSOP Main Event titles). Ungar obviously possessed enormous natural gifts (“preternatural,” actually, says McManus). But he also believed himself nearly always to be in a position not unlike Harry Jordan’s near the end of Pick-Up, able to “afford to turn down ten thousand, a million” (even when -- as explained in Nolan Dalla and Peter Alson’s biography of Ungar, One of a Kind -- that wasn’t always precisely the case for Ungar).

Enjoy the show tonight, if you happen to watch. And, as you evaluate the play, try not to think about the money.

Image: Pick-Up (1955), Charles Willeford, Amazon.