Mr. Brooks Goes to the Bank

Anybody who ever played poker in Texas knew and respected Robert A. Brooks. For most of his life, Mr. Brooks lived in Alaska, where he owned all the gambling joints, including a craps game, blackjack game, some bars, and poker games. At one time or another he had been a bush pilot and a fisherman, and he knew everybody in the North Country, including the Eskimos. The madam of the local cathouse used to play lowball in one of the games that he ran. "No telling how much money she lost," he told me. After he moved from Alaska to Texas in the late '70s, Mr. Brooks played poker with us, and later on he and a partner opened up Barney's Casino in Lake Tahoe. He knew every angle in the gambling business, and there wasn't a soul who could cheat him.

Nobody who played poker with him ever called him by his first name at the table – we all addressed him as "Mr. Brooks," out of respect for his knowledge and character, knowing that his word was always good. Although he had more money than most people will ever see, he was not a pretentious man; he never dressed up fancy and he drove an old car like he didn't have $20 to his name. When he flew to Vegas for the World Series of Poker, I would offer to drive him anywhere he wanted to go. "Bob, you want me to run you out to the Strip?" I'd ask. "Hell no," he always answered. "I get a kick out of riding the bus and talking to the old people like me who are on it."

We played in some pretty good poker games together, Bob and I, the big games in Denton, Corpus Christi, Fort Worth, and Dallas. I never had to worry about having a bankroll when he was around. Anytime I needed money to play on, he wouldn't throw me $300, he'd throw me $20,000, knowing that he would get a good count with me. One time we played a pot-limit game with $5-$10 blinds for two days straight in Denton, and I won $43,000. Mr. Brooks and I always split whatever we won. Another time, we were playing no-limit hold'em in Forth Worth and Everett Goulsby was winning a lot of money in the game. "Let's put $40 on it in the dark," Everett said. "Hell, let's put $800 on it in the dark!" Mr. Brooks answered. Everett shut his mouth.

I first met Mr. Brooks in Fort Worth more than 25 years ago when I was playing poker there. I always had a poker or craps game going, so I suggested that he and I open up a poker game in Dallas. Because he trusted me, liked to play cards, and knew the poker business real well, Mr. Brooks agreed to the deal. We opened our business on Park Lane Street in Dallas. I knew all the players around town, so we had some big players in our no-limit game. There usually was around $50,000 to $70,000 on the table, a bigger game than most of the ones in Vegas. About the second game that we ran, Dicky Carson came in to play, and he's been laughing ever since about this next story. Since Mr. Brooks had a good sum of money, we were giving out tab and he OK'd everybody's slips. We could stand good for $20,000 or more and the players didn't have to worry about getting paid. We had this good game going that had lasted for about two days, and we had around $40,000 out on credit. At about 9 a.m., the game still was sixhanded with lots of chips on the table. We had to pay everybody two days later at the next game, so I suggested to Mr. Brooks that we straighten up with them at that time. "No, I want to pay them all today before they leave," he said. "Go get your car and drive me to the bank, and I'll get some money." So, we told everybody to just keep on playing while we drove to the bank.

When we came to Greenville Avenue, I asked, "Which way should I turn?"

"I don't know. Try turning left," Mr. Brooks answered.

"Well, where are we going?"

"To the bank, Byron."

"Which bank?"

"Hell, any bank's got $40,000 in it!" he snapped. "Just pull in to the next one you see." I was purely amazed, but I stopped at a bank about a block away. Dressed in coveralls and a straw hat, Bob went inside; 20 minutes later he came out with a paper bag full of money. I knew then that he must have a lot of money if he could get that much cash from a bank that he'd never been in before.

One time Mr. Brooks and a couple of friends had a Vegas-style craps game in Fort Worth with some big players in it. A guy who owned a Ford agency, another fella who had some nightclubs, Henry Bowen, and Curt Garrett all were betting high. Mr. Brooks was bankrolling it. During one session, he and his partners got off big losers. The game had a $500 limit, but one shooter had beat them out of about $60,000 and another one had taken the game down for $20,000. His partners came to Brooks crying, "We're about an $80,000 loser. We'd better lower the limit, what the hell else can we do?"

"Hell, raise the limit!" Brooks answered. "Let's wait till I go broke – then we'll figure out something." They had to laugh at that one. Of course, they won the money back plus a couple hundred thousand. Mr. Brooks knew that they always had the percentages in their favor when they banked the craps. He used to say, "Anybody who ever got famous from shooting craps got famous for what they lost, not for how much they won." I know he was right about that – I wish that I had 20 percent of what I've lost at craps in my lifetime, and 20 percent of what I've won banking games.

Whenever anything came up, Mr. Brooks knew the answer to it right away. I think he had read all the books in every library twice. Not only was he a smart man, he was a good man, and I deeply respected him and loved him like a daddy. He was a tough ol' sonnagun, too, so tough that nobody messed with him. I nicknamed Mr. Brooks "The Red Fox," and wrote a poem about him and some of his adventures in Alaska. Before he died in 1993 in Texas, he requested that someone read my poem at his funeral. I felt that he had paid me quite an honor. A lot of people who knew him still miss Mr. Brooks – especially me.

Editor's note: Byron Wolford is the author of Cowboys, Gamblers & Hustlers, where you will find many more stories like this one about the old days on the poker circuit. You can contact the author at [email protected] or through Card Player.