Main Event
The night before the Main Event. Trepidation, expectancy, nervousness, excitement, and numerous other multisyllabic words. No different than the feelings of a young boy on the night before Christmas. The feeling is far greater now in fact, as if Santa got old and quit… where poker now fi lls a void of anticipating a truly exceptional gift. That is, to compete in the greatest sporting event in the world. There would be no presents the next day – not for many days in fact. In the coming days the rewards would only come to those with the strength to pull through, the fortitude to sit idly by and watch the greatest joys and despair of the human condition, all the while striving for an unaffected path through this spectrum to an eventual victory. With such promise, such possibility, so close and at the same time distant, the Main Event becomes the poker player’s blank novel with an uncertain amount of chapters. Horror? Hopefully not. Romance? Yes please.
Once past the shell shock of a moment that comes once a year but might be retold and relived indefi nitely, the fi rst day of the tournament becomes arguably the most exciting part until the end when nothing but the nitty gritty is left. Those who share the politically incorrect poker living have seen this day before… this day to some is almost like every other day at the offi ce. Most, however, understand the chaos that each day always brings. New faces mixed with old faces mixed with a silent, unspoken, unseen goal that everyone shares. But nobody deep down expects to win. When you look around at the thousands of people and chips, only a true champion expects anything more than an interesting, chaotic ride. That one thing that everyone shares when the clocks fi nally start is hope. I’m sure it’s been said that a player without hope was never a player to begin with. If it hasn’t, now it has. My personal journey was clouded with hope, and I at least expected myself to play to my highest potential. This was a good foundation for a historic run. I hoped.
In speaking of chaos, there are few better times, instances, and situations to defi ne that word than on this day. In a broad sense, it is very obvious. Cards fl y as independent players make decisions based on their talent, ability, inability, dreams, past, future, emotional, and physical state. I could have a twin brother or even a clone and struggle to ever know how he would play this specifi c tournament, this specifi c day, this specifi c hand. This is what makes poker eternally playable – it is ever changing. Poker is merely a small canvas that always offers the human desires of success and triumph, packaged neatly and appropriately for the quick consumer. You win, or you don’t. I won the hand. Joy. I lost the hand. Pain. Thank goodness for breaks, as no sane person can remain so after uninterrupted TV dinner emotions for nearly two weeks.
As I neared the money on the third day of battle at the table, it was becoming clear why we were all battling in the fi rst place. Whether it be greed, pride, or legacy, our natural way of being is so stimulated by poker that it’s no wonder that some people end up in gambling rehab. It’s also no wonder that guns were important at the table back when poker was cutting its teeth. Has the human race gone soft? In a modern way, yes. We play poker because it makes us feel alive more then most things that don’t threaten our physical well being. It targets the next closest thing, our emotional and mental well being… along with our comfort and fi nancial security of course. Some can handle tampering with those things, some cannot. Those that can’t should not be playing poker for anything more then fun. After all, if all you’re gambling with is fun, then when you begin to lose your desire to play is subdued, at least temporarily.
The constant growl of chips shuffl ing and moving is probably what it sounds like for a fi eld to be whittled down. Players stand, sometimes to rejoice, other times to leave the room until 2009. Dealers watch as the third day turns into the money, and the money turns into the fourth day. If they were allowed to show emotion they would be excited too. One could probably tell how many bad beats hit a certain felt by the degree of a frown on the dealer’s lips. If they were allowed. The cards that are landing are shards of destiny; they deliver all that any of us would care about in this room. The chips are the winds that we each control, but even when we are blowing north there are those strong ships who sail against the current, and somehow fi nd the buried treasure regardless of the hurricane. There are a few places where numbers take on such a personifi ed form, on this day, in the Rio, numbers are transforming all around. Percentages become expressions and probability transforms into ever-present storylines. This is just a movie that has all the same roles, but each time it’s fi lmed a new face steps in that has been preparing for a close-up. Heroes, villains, buddies, enemies, and of course, love. Am I the hero this time around? Again, my hope comforts me. The clock says Level 14 and 150 players remaining out of over 6,800. These numbers I’ve seen thousands of times before comfort me now more then ever. To others, the numbers have a different meaning.
With so much struggle and thought, it is a bitter pill when victory is not reached. But what do I mean by victory? Only one person can win each year… it is the ability to see the smaller cashes as victories that is one of the greatest gifts a player can earn. It is almost comforting to be eliminated in 112th place… of course I experience the pain and sadness of a run worthy of at least some nostalgia and analysis, but in failing I am further convinced that the ultimate victory is worth the wait. In the end, we all tend to fear what we know we want most: our own success. In my battles on and off the table, I know that eliminating fear is the key to life’s many struggles. But the fear will always be hanging around… just to remind us we are human, and mortal! I am thankful that my life so far has been a good “Main Event”. Naw sayin? PEACE.
