Note: readers who are unfamiliar with hold-em rules can find them at ultimate bet dot com. Readers who are unfamiliar with poker terminology may want to read This glossary from CNN first. Or don’t. I’m not the boss of you.
Part one of this story is here.
Part two of this story is here.
Part three of this story is here.
During the shuffle, Mrs. Beautiful turns to me and says, “Hey, where the hell is Shane?”
“He’s . . . babysitting.”
“Babysitting?! Who?”
I tell her that I’m not sure. Mr. Director offers the name of a fairly prominent studio executive, well-known for his tantrums.
“I really don’t know.” I’m sort of glad I don’t.
For the next several hands I get nothing but a bunch of small off-suit junk. The only pair I get is crabs, so I let Mr. director and Mrs. Beautiful beat up on each other while I lose enough in blinds to drop back to third. When the blinds go up to 500-1000, my short stack looks a lot shorter. I have just enough to cover one or two more blind bets, and I’m hoping for a miracle.
Mrs. Beautiful is on the button, Mr. Director is the small blind, and I’m the big blind. She calls. Mr. Director folds, and I look at my cards. There’s my miracle: A-10 hearts. My heart thumps hard in my chest. If I remember what I’ve learned from Doyle Brunson correctly, these are good cards to play 3 handed. It’s time to make my move.
I wrap my left hand around my small stacks of chips, and push them toward the center of the table.
“I’m all in.” I know the words come out of my mouth, but they sound distant.
Mrs. Beautiful studies her pocket cards. “Call.”
Visions of doubling up and making a strong run at second, or even first, begin to dance in my head.
I stand up, and turn over my cards. Mrs. Beautiful bites her lip, and turns over Siegfried and Roy.
Two. Fucking. Queens.
With a gentle smile, she says, “I’m sorry.”
Oh fuck me.
The dealer knocks the table, slides the top card under the the muck, and deals out three cards. He spreads them out with a flourish, just like on TV. He flips them over and the flop is revealed: 9 hearts – 10 diamonds – 5 clubs. I make a pair, but her queens still beat me.
I’m not good enough at math to know what my odds are, but I know that I’m looking at twelve outs — twelve cards out of forty-something that can make my hand: eight hearts put me one off a flush, (One of Mrs. Beautiful’s queens is a heart, but my ace beats her if we make it) one of the two tens makes trips, and either ace would give me two pair. I’m not out . . . yet.
The dealer burns and turns . . . a red deuce . . . is it hearts of diamonds? It’s a heart! The lowly two of hearts. It’s the most beautiful card I’ve seen tonight. Eleven cards left now in this deck that can keep me in this game.
The busted out players who have stuck around to drink surround us like railbirds. A wave of excitement ripples through them.
“Come on, Wil!” Yells Mr. Drunk Guy.
Ever since I played my first game of Hold’em in high school, and learned about the World Series of Poker sometime during my junior year, I’ve entertained notions of playing in the big one. But every time I go to Vegas, I look into those poker rooms, and lose my nerve. Before tonight, I’ve never had the balls to play in anything bigger than a home game with friends . . . I doubt I’ll ever play in the WSOP, but the way I feel right now, I could be at the final table, staring across the felt at Johnny Chan.
I take a deep breath, and grab the back of my chair tightly, I don’t have to look at my knuckles to know that they’re white. Here comes fifth street, and the whole thing is in slow motion: the dealer knocks three times with one knuckle, grabs the red-backed corner of the top card, his thumb covering the little Bicycle cherub, and burns it away. Was that one of my outs? I’ll never know. His hand rests atop the deck, and it feels like an eternity before the river is revealed . . .
. . and it’s the queen of clubs. I go out in third place.
Mrs. Beautiful stands up and hugs me. She smells good. Mr. Director shakes my hand, and tells me that I played well. Mr. Drunk Guy tells me how much he loves me.
I am slow to pick up my jacket. I’m conflicted: in the haze of elimination, I wonder if I made a mistake moving all-in, but I’ve just finished third in my first-ever real money tournament! Before I can walk away from the table, the next hand is dealt. Mr. Director, who has an almost 2-1 chip lead on Mrs. Beautiful even after she wiped me out, says, “Let’s finish this,” and puts her all-in.
She calls. He’s got a pair of jacks, she’s got K-Q.
“What are the odds? If I wasn’t here, I wouldn’t believe it.”
The flop is A spades – Q spades – 4 clubs. Mrs. Beautiful leans forward, and looks intensely at the board. Mr. Director stands up, his hands thrust deep into his pockets.
A king (clubs) comes on fourth street, and Mrs. Beautiful takes the lead in the hand with two pair. The excitement level from the fourteen or so people who are in the club rivals the poker room at Binion’s.
Mr. Director and Mrs. Beautiful look at each other. She is chewing furiously on her bottom lip, and it’s incredibly sexy. I wish I was in this hand.
The dealer knocks the table, burns the top card, and the jack of hearts — one of my outs, one hand too late — comes down the river. Mr. Director makes three of a kind, and wins it all on a suck out.
I can’t tell who’s more stunned between them. Mrs. Beautiful reaches across the table and shakes his hand. I look down at the green felt table: nine cards turned up, the rest of the pack spread out next to the dealer. A mountain of chips. I wish I had a camera. This would make a great book cover.
When I look up, they’re both cashing out. The railbirds have wandered away, and music starts to fill the room. The dealer scoops the chips into a bag, and the felt top is carried away under one very large Samoan arm.
I look at my watch: it’s after midnight. Since Sean and I worked together on Toy Soldiers, our careers have taken wildly different paths, and each time I look at this innocent timepiece, I feel a twinge of sadness and regret. Occasionally jealousy. I wear it because it was a generous gift. It’s also a reminder. I watch the second hand sweep slowly around past the 8, and for the first time in ages, I don’t feel like a loser. I feel good. Maybe I’ll finally get up the nerve to call Sean. Maybe I’ll ask him over to play cards. I pick up my coat, and go collect my money.
The girl at the bar counts out a stack of bills. Blue eyes. Pale skin. Jet black hair down her back. Goddamn.
“You’ve never played here before.” She says.
“Nope. I didn’t even know this place existed until two weeks ago.”
“You should come in on a weekend night. It gets crazy in here.”
“Plato’s Retreat crazy?” I ask.
She gives me a blank look. I realize that she can’t be older than 22.
“It was a 70s sex club in New York,” I say. “Not that I went there when I was eight, or anything.”
“Oh.” She smiles. “Well, it gets crazy in here.” She hands me my money. “Your finish gets you a free seat at the next game in two weeks.” There’s a very subtle flirtation. I wonder for the briefest second if it’s me or the cash I am stuffing into my pocket.
“Oh? Cool. I’ll be back then.”
“And don’t forget the weekend.” She takes out a shiny black business card with “Odessa” stamped on the back in red ink, and writes “Jessie” on it. “This will get you in.” She smiles, puts it in my hand, and holds on a little too long.
I’m enjoying this entirely too much. “I usually spend the weekends with my wife and stepkids,” I say, “but I’ll hold onto this.”
“You do that.” She says. “You want anything for the road?”
Do I.
“A bottle of water would be great,” I say.
She turns around and reaches down into a box against the back of the bar. Her shirt lifts up, and reveals a tattoo of ribbon, tied into a bow, just above the top of her black and red —
I really need to get out of here.
“Here you go.” She says.
“Thanks. Bye.” I take the bottle, and walk to the door. Mr. Webmaster is waiting for me.
“Hey, you played really well.” He says.
“Thanks. Too bad I got clobbered by those fucking queens.”
“It happens. Can I ask you a question?”
Oh good. He wants me to introduce him to the agent I don’t have.
“Sure.”
“Why didn’t you play on Celebrity Poker Showdown?”
“Because I’m not a celebrity,” I say. “At least, not in the way it matters to Bravo.”
“Aw, fuck them. You can play here whenever you want.”
“Thanks, man. I appreciate that.”
“Just bring Shane and his money next time.”
I laugh and shake his hand.
“Will do.”
I walk out the door, and discover a long line of hipsters down the alley, behind a velvet rope. They have no idea about the game. The Odessa keeps a good poker face.
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Great story. Like an old fashioned cliff hanger. Not to kiss & tell but how good was the return on your initial investment?
Way cool Wil! I’m proud of you.
I can’t wait to go home tonight and play poker. Great story, Wil.
Definitley awesome ending!
Very nice story. You are a celebrity in my book. Much more so than Fred Savage anyway…
Cool story Wil. Maybe when JAG comes out Bravo will see you in a new light. BTW–It’s Gates birthday today.
Outstanding job, Wil!
Making it to the top 10% consistently is what tournament pro play is all about. Sometimes the cards will help, sometimes they hurt. But good play like that will ensure that when the QQ comes to *you*, you will be ready.
Great writing.
And given the law of Bacon (as in Kevin), you were exposed to (however many players remember you * 2^6 – 1) people, you *gotta* be headed to celebrity poker! Or something. 🙂
Man Wil, that is a great story! Congrats. And you know, you should give Sean a call. You’ve got nothing to lose, and I’m sure he’d be just as happy to hear from you.
You took some risks in that poker game, but picking up the phone and calling an old friend sounds like a cinch (to use a poker term).
Go Wil! Delightful 4-part story. Almost makes me want to look up all the jargon so I could have followed it better 🙂 but I got the gist.
Way to go, Uncle Willie! I’m sure once JAG comes out, and hits the Best Seller lists, ol’ Bravo’ll come beatin’ down Uncle Willie’s door! Sweet!
You should definitely put this story in your next book. I haven’t read anything I enjoyed this much in a while.
Screw Bravo, you’re better than a celebrity. You’re a writer! I’d pick Alan Moore over Dudley Moore any day of the week.
What what a great read! I’ve read your site for about six months and this is the best I’ve seen, I’ll definatly pick up a copy of your books when they come out.
If you want to place this with a magazine, you need to find the right market for it. Research magazines that might be interested in it. Write to them for their submission guidelines. Write a query for this article, submit it, and see what they say. Buy a copy of (or get an online subscription to) Writer’s Market to learn more about markets and query writing. Don’t try to sell to a magazine it’s not right for, do your research first. This piece is good–go for it!
“Because I’m not a celebrity,” I say. “At least, not in the way it matters to Bravo.”
“Aw, fuck them. You can play here whenever you want.”
Yeah, Mr. Webmaster had it right. Fuck them. Dude, you’re a celebrity. You’ve got a metric assload of people who will back that up. Hell, some of us have, on our Lists of Reasons To Be Famous, so I can meet Uncle Willy.
You rock. And you did a hell of a lot better in that game than I would have. Mostly because I am teh suk with anything but blackjack. 🙂
really swell story, Wil … thanks for posting it! and third place in your first for-money game? that’s freakin’ rad.
You are a fantastic writer!! and obviously not bad at poker either.
I spent the whole morning checking to see if the final part was posted. You were able to capture the atmosphere perfectly, it was like actually watching it all happen. Superb.
Thanks for the sweet tale and the great ending. I think you’ve really shown off your writing talents with this series 🙂
Huh… haven’t read such good poker since Mamet’s book Make-Believe Town.
Good Work.
Wow… I just de-muffined myself.
-dr.nik-
Wil: That was one great read. Thanks!
I can’t recall the last time I saw someone maintain tension like that ove such a long period. That and the use of the serial format, which I love, makes this the most enjoyable thing I’ve read in recent memory. You are an artist, Wil, and that will show in everything you turn your hand to. I look forward to reading your books in the near future.
Hey, congrats on coming in 3rd. You did a hell of a lot better than I would have done!
You are an amazing writer.
Call your friend. Who cares if your careers have diverged and who cares if he’s the it thing right now? He’s still your friend right?
Congrats on the good game and commiserations on the loss.
hey wil,
that was some of the best writing i have read in a really really long time!
from part one of the story i was hooked! Great job in the game, you did soooo well!! as we say in the UK, Well Done!!!!!
take care
rach
ps…sean astin rocks!! (as do you!!!! – Of course!!!!) 🙂
Wil, you’re my favorite! I know JACK about poker but I was on the edge of my seat the whole time.
Woah. Great writing!
Just call him, Wil. A person who thought enough of your friendship to present you with a gift as lasting a timepiece would be happy to hear from you.
Right on, man… You obviously earned some respect in that room.
I totally agree with Shelby that you should try to sell that story. Poker is hot-hot-hot right now, and especially in the wake of Celebrity Poker Showdown, I’m betting there are more than a couple of mens’ magazines (Details, Maxim, etc.) who would love to buy a well-told tale from a guy who’s just celebrity enough to still have name recognition in their target market, but regular-guy enough for the readers to identify with you the way we do. It could quite possibly even earn you a seat at a CPS table. Either way, what better timing – and what better way – to get your name in pop culture circulation (so to speak), what with your book release pending?
Awww. But you finished in the money, right? so rock on.
Your writing is cinematic, and wonderful.
(applause, shrieks of delight, feet stomping floor)
In the words of What’s-Her-Face (member of the Teen Girl Squad), “That’s AWESOME!”
Too bad you didn’t win it all, but, as I’ve heard Scotty Nguyen say, “That’s no-limit, baby!” Well done!
I say you should enter the WSOP, if you can spare the $10K entry fee. Looks like you’d do well enough to get through a couple days of the tourney, at least…and your story would probably catch ESPN’s eye, too. And who knows? If some newbie who won his seat in a $40 Internet tournament can go all the way at Binion’s, maybe you can too.
Or maybe you should just challenge Frakes and Spiner to a little tournament of your own…:-)
Ok; I don’t know how to play poker, but I’ve read through the rules links. Why do you (Wil) know what Mrs. Beautiful’s cards are before the flop? The rules page for that game said that the players turn over their private cards at the end of the game, after the last card is put on the table.
Yes, call him Wil. And boy oh boy – I loved the part about Jessie – heck, you just about even turned me on 😉
Great.Fucking. Story.
Holy shit,Wil this has to be the best damn blog entry since your pirate speak entry. You have got what it takes to write, my man, and don’t let anyone say otherwise. Keep up the great work! This is really great material.
Great story, one small detail caught my eye as a possible error. Could be I’m wrong here by not knowing enough about hold-em, but in the last hand, didn’t Mrs. Beautiful take the lead on the flop with Q’s over Mr. Director’s J’s?
Great read though. Loved the last bit with the bartender girl. You got bigger cojones than me to write like that where the wife can see it. 😉
This is one of the best entries you’ve wrote yet. Hopefully you’ll continue going there and we’ll continue reading about it!
Makes me want to stop playing poker at the casino and find myself an “illegal” game. 😉
Very cool Wil. I sent this to all my friends. Hope to see you on Bravo sometime.
Good lord, man. That was brilliant. Like a Guiness commercial, “Brilliant!” I’ve been an avid fan of poker for a while now and always look forward to your columns on them. Not that there have been many, but this four-part telling is fantastic.
BTW, has anyone started a letter-writing campaign to get you in Bravo’s next season of Celeb Poker? This needs to be done. WW is a much bigger celebrity than half the shmucks they have had on. Not to discredit said shmucks, most of whom I appreciate even in obscurity, but come on… don’t disregard your celebrity just because some hokey cable network overlooked you.
Whew…what a poker lesson, this coming from a girl who knows all she knows about poker from playing Yahtzee way too much…wonderful read, too! I lerve a good cliffhanger.
Oh to have your life Wil. Great story, and great night!
See ya at Penguicon in April. =)
Great story Wil! Oh to have your life. =)
See ya at Penguicon in April.
Sorry about the double post all.
Call Sean, he didn’t give ME no watch!!
Wow.
I don’t even know how to play poker and I was totally hooked! It’ll only be a matter of time before you start getting attention due to your excellent writing. Even though I live in Australia, I’ll be very sure to buy JAG when it comes out.
FABULOUS! Win, lose or draw that was one hell of a ride! It just proves what WE already know, when the chips are down Uncle Willy has what it takes!
BTW: Call Sean…friends are friends no matter how far apart their roads have taken them!
Hot damn, Wil. You’re a good actor, man, but you are turning into a fantastic writer. I’ve read both “Bringing Down the House” and “Positvely 5th Street” recently, and I have to say that you convey the suspense of real gambling at least as well as McManus. Keep up the good work.
Awesome story, Wil. Truly.
And also – thank you.
There’s no way for you to know, and no way for me to tell you, how much I appreciate the laughs, excitement and enjoyment that your writing has given me, in what was an otherwise utterly bleak and painful week.
Again, thank you.
That was an awesome story – I liked how you built up the tension and then went into an aside before you went into the finish – this was great writing. You should add it to JAG if it’s not to late.
You rock Wil!!
Wil,
I was riveted, really. It has made me want to start playing poker!!
John
I am a huge poker/hold’em fan, and this was an awesome story. So very captivating. Thanks for posting it.
My gawd Wil! I’m going to be late for work because I had to finish reading that! Utterly fantastic.
Hey Wil,
Well-composed! Definitely one of the best “shorts” I’ve ever read. Speaking of Sean Astin, (since his name appeared here a couple of times) did you see the episode of VEGAS last night on NBC? He was a guest star, and he definitely showed some skin (and lots of chest hair) in one of the scenes. Thought I’d share!
Lizette from S.F.
This is really a fantastic story, Wil. I sincerely hope you’ll be publishing it somewhere other than the web because I would love to have a copy of this that I can stuff in a bag and take with me on plane rides 😉 A very well-executed short story.