Back to School

Not too much time to write this morning, as I’m readying for the first meeting of my class, “Poker in American Film and Culture.” Has become kind of a momentous day, given how long the course has been in the works, plus the extra delay we had thanks to inclement weather last week and the MLK holiday on Monday.

By the way, I had a chance to speak with Matt Showell of PokerListings some about the class, and yesterday he posted a nice article about it, “Poker: A Study in American Culture.”

You can also hear me gab about the class with Special K and Falstaff on Episode 20 of the Gambling Tales Podcast, if you’re curious. I also joined the fellas for their latest show, too, Episode 22, to chat about that Rick Bennet novel King of a Small World I reviewed here last month.

And let me mention one other item related to the class. Some of you might know Bellatrix, a blogger who has recently become a limit hold’em coach. She recently launched her own website where one can find information about her coaching, a link to her blog, a forums page, and more.

Over in the forums, Bellatrix has begun a discussion group for the class there, in case anyone wanted to talk about any of the readings or films I’ve assigned. I mentioned before that I didn’t really anticipate writing too often here on Hard-Boiled Poker about the class, although I imagine I will now and then. But I do plan to pop in over there frequently and would be very glad to talk to folks about the assignments. Would love suggestions and advice, too, if anyone has ’em.

Today’s first day of class will mainly be devoted to introducing the course and its goals. I mentioned before how it is an American Studies course, so a primary objective is going to be finding out how studying poker’s history and culture will help us learn more about America’s history and culture. We’ll go through the syllabus today (which I posted here a couple of weeks ago), and take a little bit of time to get to know each other, too.

I also plan to have us together read David Mamet’s 1982 essay “The Things Poker Teaches Us,” primarily to show the students an example of someone writing in a very studious (even “academic”) way about poker. The short piece will also allow us to sound a couple of early notes that we’ll be coming back to all semester, including what Mamet says about winners and losers, his point that “poker is about money,” and his conclusion that poker builds character.

Next week we’ll begin McManus’s book Cowboys Full and read that essay by John Lukacs called “Poker and American Character” (discussed here and here), thereby getting a little more specific about all the ways poker might perhaps be an especially American game that highlights various ideas and values such as individualism, self-reliance, the importance of work, the “frontier spirit,” the “pursuit of happiness,” and so forth.

Like I say, not too much time to prattle on here today. Kind of wanted to talk more about this new “pro-centric” poker league I wrote about yesterday, perhaps elaborating further on the point I was trying to make about how the league seems in a strange way to go against some of the fundamental truths -- including the fact that poker, while certainly a skill game, also necessarily involves luck/gambling, too.

Will have to leave that aside for now, though. School is about to start.

2009 WSOP, Day 10: Life Passes By

Was around 2:30 a.m. last night when I found myself slowly shuffling down the long hallway that runs from the Amazon ballroom to the parking lot out back of the Rio All-Suite Hotel and Casino.

After about 13 hours after my event -- the $2,500 Pot-Limit Hold’em/Pot-Limit Omaha (Event No. 10) -- had begun, we finally had a winner. Started the day with 18 players. Down to five by the dinner break, then it took ’em four hours or something to lose another. When five were left one fellow (Najib Bennani) was down to just 50,000 chips, then tripled up, doubled up a few times, and ended up managing to finish second (to Rami Boukai).

Thus ended my three days covering that event, which in the end totaled something close to 40 hours of work. And I’m back over there again today and tomorrow to finish out Event No. 13, a $2,500 No-Limit Hold’em affair. There are 175 players coming back today from their starting field of 1,088, so this looks like yet another event that is going to run up against that Rule No. 96 -- the one that says they’ll stop at 3 a.m. regardless of how many players are remaining.

Which means I’m looking at continuing my streak of 13-plus hour workdays through Sunday, then, thankfully, I’ll have Monday off to try and recharge.

It’s fun. And somewhat rewarding, still. A grind, for sure, though. And when all yr doing is writing up poker hands, eating here and there, and sleeping, it’s hard not to feel a little bit like life might be passing you by.

Like I say, I was shuffling slowly down the Rio hallway. Hands in pockets, media badge swinging from my neck, laptop over my shoulder. Half-formed poker hands flitting through my consciousness.

My partner, FerricRamsium, and I were taking turns last night filling the roles of reporter and blogger, with one of us watching the action and reporting to the other who’d enter hands, chip counts, and other items into the blog. Once they’d gotten down to five or so, I was writing down every single hand when it was my turn to stand over by the table (though we’d only report the more significant ones). Actually ended up writing the final hand on the cardboard back of the notepad, having gone through all of the sheets of yet another one.

Not a lot of chance to relax yr mental faculties in that situation, although I did have the pleasure at one juncture of visiting some with bellatrix who came by after playing in Event No. 14 (the $2,500 Limit Hold’em event). After our visit, she’d headed over to see what was happening in the cash games in the front right quadrant of the Rio. When my day was done I wandered over but didn’t spot her. She’d either left, or the dense fog that had settled in my brain had made it too difficult for me to see clearly anymore.

But I did find the ballroom exit okay, and so made my way out and down the hall. Was nearing the doors leading to the parking lot on the left when suddenly I hear a faint whirring sound behind me. Was just about to turn around to look when the sound careened past on my right.

I looked up somewhat woozily as the cowboy hat-wearing man on the scooter roared past, moving at what seemed to my dazed self the speed of thought itself.

Might ought to look into getting one of those.