Randy Holland - A Peripatetic Poker Player, Perennial Champion, and Perfect Gentleman

Randy Holland had just won the $1,500 seven-card stud high-low split tournament when I interviewed him during the 2000 World Series of Poker. More than a year later, I ran into the tournament star at the 2001 Orleans Open when I sat across the table from him in an Omaha high-low tournament. Not only did I need to show him a hand, I needed to give him an explanation for my tardiness in writing our interview. As I posted my blind, I sheepishly alibied, "I misplaced the tape, Randy. Hope you'll forgive me." Calling a raise in front of him, he let me off the hook with, "I'd almost forgotten about it. No problem." Folding my K-9-4-3, I reflected upon the qualities of "gentleman" poker players: tolerance for the ignorance of others, politeness during discord, respect for both the best and the worst of opponents, and an unflappable temperament. No doubt about it, I thought, Randy Holland must be the "poster child" of the poker world.

In 1996, he won the razz championship at the World Series of Poker, a feat that he might have repeated in 1997 had it not been for Tom McEvoy. "I had Linda Johnson (the eventual winner) all in at one point," Holland recalled, "before McEvoy knocked me out." Winning the best all-around player award (and a new car) at the Legends of Poker later that year at The Bicycle Casino probably was some consolation. In fact, winning best all-around player awards seems second nature to the transplanted Canadian who now lives in Southern California: He won three best all-around titles within 12 months. "Winning best all-around at the Bike was especially nice, because I was playing against top competition," Holland said. "You have to be very fortunate to win just one tournament, but you have to be extremely lucky for two or three weeks to win a best all-around award. Poker can be streaky, but I think that I have an advantage because I play all the games."

Dana Smith: You started out playing stud, moved to limit hold'em, and then branched out to other forms of poker. Did it seem natural to you to learn a wide variety of games?

Randy Holland: As a professional, you might be better off playing one game and playing it well, but to keep it interesting, I like to play a variety of poker games in both cash games and tournaments. I also like traveling to different locations, so I don't concentrate on only one game. And playing several games helps if you play the tournaments in Los Angeles, because not everybody does that. I am a little more selective at the World Series of Poker.

DS: You are an attorney, but left the field of law for the far less stable world of poker.

RH: My departure from the world of law came as a result of my desire to try something different in life. I started playing poker when I turned 40, and was working in an appointed government position in Florida. After being in that job for seven years, I decided to take one year off to pursue something else. Several law firms asked me to come and talk with them, but I decided to try playing poker full time instead. I didn't really know what to expect, but I thought that I might go to Europe for a while and play some poker there, go on a cruise, and do some different things with my life. That was nine years ago, and I haven't looked back.

DS: How did a native Canadian who grew up in Southern California wind up living in Florida?

RH: I attended law school at Florida State University in Tallahassee, and remained in Florida for the next 20 years. When I graduated from law school, I went to work for the Florida Legislature. It was a great job, a lot of fun. Then, I moved on to the attorney general's office, where I stayed for a while. I had met a lot of people in the Legislature and got a job with the state controller in the department of banking. I became the director of the division of finance, which regulates different financial entities in Florida. When I quit my job with the government and decided to travel, I was single and really had nothing to hold me back, no obligations. I had no one to worry about except myself.

DS: Where did you play poker when you lived in Florida?

RH: There was no public poker in Florida, so we played very low-limit home games. The first time that I played poker in a casino was in 1984 in Las Vegas, during a convention that I attended. The game was $1-$4 seven-card stud. I started looking for opportunities to visit Vegas again, or Los Angeles, where my parents lived. Soon, I jumped into a $4-$4-$8 limit hold'em game. Even though I was chastised several times for mucking across the flopped cards, I was hooked on the game. In the early '90s, poker came to Mississippi, a four-hour drive (with speeding tickets) from Tallahassee, and I started taking poker more seriously. By 1993, I was playing $20-$40 and $40-$80, and decided to try playing poker full time.

DS: You had built up a bankroll by then?

RH: Yes, I had some property and had made some investments, so I knew that I could last for at least a year. I didn't need to make any big money, but I couldn't afford to lose a whole lot, either. I could always move back into my house in Tallahassee and return to work if I needed to. It wasn't a big gamble, it was an opportunity to try something new. At first, my mom told people that I was on sabbatical, but after four or five years, that didn't work any longer. My parents actually were quite accepting of the idea that I might become a professional poker player, saying, "Whatever makes you happy."

After renting my house in Tallahassee to a nice couple, I moved to Mississippi so that I could be close to the poker there. My brother, who is in construction, and I built a couple of houses together near Biloxi as investments. I tried going out on the job with him, but I have a bad back; after my first day, I couldn't move my body that night. "Don't bother trying to help me anymore," my brother told me. I just took care of the books after that.

I played only limit hold'em and seven-card stud at first, but since the South is really a hotbed for pot-limit hold'em, I gradually got my feet wet in that game. The games were very good and the action was hot. Jack Keller and Carl McKelvey, top-notch players, were playing in Mississippi, and I learned a lot. I came here to the World Series around 1992 and played a $1,500 limit hold'em tournament with 395 players and came in eighth. Before that, I had played only one tournament, a $40 buy-in local event. For practice, I began playing a lot of small tournaments in Mississippi with $10 buy-ins and $10 rebuys that were fun and a challenge.

DS: You started playing tournaments the same way that you started playing cash games, at the very low limits.

RH: Right, which I think is the smart thing to do. You're playing with real money in the tournaments, so why invest a lot of money in the beginning? I went to Foxwoods in December of 1993 and had modest success, finishing third in the best all-around player rankings. In 1994 I won my first tournament, a limit hold'em event at the Gold Coast Open in Las Vegas. Later that year I chopped three events at Foxwoods and started taking tournaments more seriously.

DS: How do you account for being such a fast study at tournament play?

RH: I've learned a lot from watching the styles of play of players like T.J. Cloutier and John Bonetti. I think the players who have been successful are the ones to learn from – they must be doing something right. I got hooked on playing tournaments and went to Europe to play some poker there.

DS: A lot of American players are reluctant to travel overseas to play. What motivated you to go to Europe?

RH: I first went there when I was 20 years old, and it was exciting; it opened up a whole new world for me. Then, I read Anthony Holden's book, Big Deal, in which he talked about playing poker in Europe. I like to travel, and decided that since I had the freedom to do it, I might as well try some poker in Europe. I think that I hit it at a very good time – the mid-'90s, when poker was very new there. Not many players understood the nuances of hold'em, such as the importance of kickers. The atmosphere there was very different – there was a smaller group of people and they were very friendly – and I liked it, so I've traveled to Europe nine or 10 times since then. And I've had success there; I won a tournament in Amsterdam, one in Vienna, and one in Paris. And I've enjoyed myself.

DS: Is the language barrier a problem? Do they use French decks of cards in which the kings have the letter "R" on them for "roi"?

RH: No, standard decks are used in Europe, just like the ones we use in the States, and there is absolutely no language barrier in the poker rooms. Check, bluff, and raise are common words that everyone uses in poker. The dealers are highly trained, and most of them have been to the World Series to observe how things are done. People are very hospitable everywhere I've been in Europe. Playing poker there is a great way to travel, because when you meet people through poker, you automatically have something in common with them. It's better than going to a big city where you're anonymous and have no connections. I just don't understand some of the younger players who have the freedom to travel but don't go to Europe.

DS: Can you wear jeans and T-shirts in European casinos? I think that many American players would have to go naked if they couldn't wear their usual cardroom attire.

RH: You cannot wear tennis shoes in London, and you must wear a coat in Paris. No blue jeans can be worn anywhere. The casinos in Austria are more like American casinos, and players can dress more comfortably there.

DS: You got married four years ago. Do you and your wife have interests outside of poker?

RH: Although I met her in a casino, Laurene, who is a nurse, was not a poker player. Now she is an occasional player. Recently we had the good fortune to finish first and third out of 281 players in a $100 buy-in limit hold'em tournament at the National Championship of Poker at Hollywood Park.

DS: In the seven-card stud high-low split tournament that you won at the World Series, you had some fortuitous table changes, including one to a table of players who were gambling, so you could build up your chips. But you came to the final table in fifth chip position.

RH: Yes, and in my first hand, I had 7-6-2-A on fourth street, but when someone raised the pot, I laid it down because each of the other two players had two wheel cards showing. I knew that I couldn't win the high, and I wasn't sure that I was drawing to the best low. The short stack won the hand, and I ended up in eighth chip position after only the first hand.

DS: You didn't want to get whipsawed between two other players.

RH: Right. But then, I was able to build up my stack. Unfortunately, I soon lost a big pot with both high and low draws that left me with only about $4,000 in chips. I then got lucky and built my stack back up to about $60,000 when we were fivehanded. Then, near disaster struck when I had 4 3 2 A A in five cards against rolled-up eights, and again lost most of my chips. But from then on, I had a rush of cards and never really lost another key hand. When it got down to three players, we were just about even in chips, so we made a deal in which we saved $60,000 each and continued to play for $34,000 and the bracelet. Steve Hohn, who came in third, is the one who twice knocked me down to virtually nothing. I don't know whether he remembers me, but I remember that in the second or third tournament that I ever played at the World Series, he knocked me out one away from the money in stud eight-or-better.

DS: There are some hands that you never forget, key hands that turn the tide.

RH: In threehanded play, the key hand came when Eli Balas started with a jack showing and wound up making four jacks. I made a 6 low and Steve made a 7-high straight, which trapped him in the middle for a big loss. That was a tough hand to get beat with, especially playing threehanded. When Eli and I got heads up, the cards seemed to come my way. In the final hand, he started with aces and I started with jacks. I caught a jack on fifth street to win the pot and the title. It had been a long haul, six hours of play at the final table, so I was very tired and very pleased that it was over.

DS: Was that the prettiest jack you'd ever seen, or what?! When you get heads up, you're essentially playing high stud, aren't you?

RH: High hands go up in value, but you're still looking for a hand that can go both ways. You're looking for a hand in which you're freerolling, maybe one in which you have a made low and are drawing for a flush, straight, or two pair.

DS: Was winning your second World Series title as exciting as winning the first one?

RH: Winning a World Series bracelet is something that every poker player wants to do. Most of us tournament players play for the money, but there also is some ego involvement. So, when you win that second bracelet, it says something: It validates you as a player – you didn't just get lucky one time and win a tournament. Winning the second bracelet feels pretty good. Not very many people have been able to do that. The ultimate, of course, is winning the $10,000 no-limit hold'em championship. In 1999, I came in 12th in the championship event, and I'm still looking forward to winning it.

DS: It seems to me that with 600 players entering the "big one," it's getting tougher by the year to win it. With such huge fields, does stamina play an important role?

RH: I think that big fields pose a disadvantage to some of the older players, because stamina seems to decrease with age. For me, the hard part is the early stages, getting focused and concentrating when there are 600 players and you're so far away from the money. You look at all the chips stacked up around you and say to yourself, "I've got to win all those chips from every table to win this thing!" And it looks like an impossible task. So, the most dangerous part of a tournament for me is getting through those first couple of hours at the lower limits when it's so hard to stay focused on my game plan. The further along I get in a tournament, the less I notice fatigue, because then I'm playing for more, and it becomes more interesting. There's more pressure, but there's also more fun and excitement. That's really why you play tournaments, isn't it? To get to the point where you can see the final table, where you can see the money?

DS: Is it easier to play your A-game when you get closer to the final table?

RH: Once I get close to the money, I am much more focused. I become aware of more things and am able to better follow my game plan. We all make mistakes now and then, and I admit that I don't always play my best game – but the closer to the money I get, the easier it is for me.

DS: Is there anything you'd like to say in closing?

RH: No, I'm not a preacher. I've enjoyed poker and I'm glad that I took the first step to try it. Initially, I thought of it as an adventure, and now I look at it as more of a job. I'm glad that I had a career first – glad that I have done other things.

DS: Every businessman I've interviewed has told me the same thing. You have so many options, Randy, given your educational background and former career in law.

RH: One of the greatest things about poker is that it gives you some freedom to move about. I can't imagine myself not playing the World Series for years to come – it's almost a ritual now – but I'm not sure whether I'll be playing in cardrooms every day for the next 10 years. Fifteen years ago, I never could have imagined playing poker for a living, so I can't predict what I'll be doing down the road, but I'm still young and looking forward to more adventures. Having a variety of experiences – that's what I think life is all about.

Editor's note: Dana Smith is the owner of Cardsmith Publishing, which recently released Cowboys, Gamblers & Hustlers, now available through Card Player. For more information, visit www.pokerbooks.com.