How I Lost My Virginity at The Orleans

I recently played my first game of poker ever. It was not just my first tournament, but my first game – the first time I ever sat at a poker table with real people and chips. My goals were to remember what Barry, my husband, had tried to teach me for an hour a day for two weeks while we were on vacation, and not to embarrass myself, get sick, or look too green. I accomplished most of these goals, and had a relatively good time.

My son Happy (Jeff) and I went together to the 7 p.m. Sunday limit hold'em tournament at The Orleans. On the way there, he gave me lessons that went in one ear and out the other. All I could think about was whether I would know how many chips to bet and where to put them.

We walked in and went right to the poker room. Tom Reese, who runs the tournaments, gave me my ticket, 21-1. (I later learned that meant table No. 21, seat No. 1.) So far, so good.

When the game started, I was seated to the left of the dealer, Amanda. We were the only two women at the table, and I felt a little bit awkward about that. Thanks to Amanda and my table mates, that soon passed. Sitting on my left was Alan, and to his left, Stan. They could not have been nicer and more encouraging. In seat No. 9 was "Grinch," or so his hat said. He's from Michigan, and he told me that at home, he has to drive two hours to play poker. I could not imagine that. He also was very nice. No one else at the table talked at all, ever.

I found it amazing that not everyone shows up on time. They pay their money, get their seats, and can show up anytime during the first hour. Why? Anyway, the table finally filled up, except for seat No. 8, which for some reason was almost always left empty.

The game began and I felt queasy. According to my neighbor and friend Maureen Feduniak, who was playing at the World Poker Open in Tunica, Mississippi, at the time, she had felt the same way in her first tournament. Amanda dealt the cards and I realized right away the pluses and minuses of seat No. 1 – the dealer is there to help you, but there is no way to gracefully look at your cards while she is dealing over your hand to the players in seat No. 2 and seat No. 3. But the pluses of having her there to tell me when it was my turn to bet and to generally help me far outweighed the minuses of not being able to look and act cool while looking at my cards.

When she was pushed, I got nervous again, but realized that all of the dealers were there to help me, and most had no clue that it was my first time playing. I really want to thank all of them for being so gentle with me.

As the game progressed, I said to Alan that it must be a little bit like fishing, where you sit all day and wait for a bite. I felt as though there was no bait on the end of my line. By the end of the night, I had played only six hands, three of which I folded after the turn, two in which I was all in and won, and the last in which I busted out with two pair to a larger two pair.

Out of 53 players, I finished 27th – not too bad for my first try, but it whetted my appetite for more. It was 10:15 p.m. when I was eliminated, so I had lasted three hours and 15 minutes. According to Stan, I played as well as Barry and was a good student – I think I had a good teacher who was very patient with me.

I learned a lot from that game, including the fact that I have a lot to learn. Players do not always start out with hands that the books or my family said they should. I thought hands with a 7-2 unsuited or A-3 were bad, but lots of the guys played them. It was very hard to read people who would play those hands and then play a real hand, such as a pair of aces or kings. Alan and Stan tried to tell me why we need these players, and how in the long run they lose, but all I could think about was that game and how to deal with it at that time.

I did learn that not all players are fun (a lady at the next table held her cigarette behind her so that she would not offend her table, but managed to upset our nonsmoking table), and that I was able to throw away an A-4 and not get upset when three aces came by the river. I also learned that a dealer is there to help players, and that sitting next to nice people makes all the difference in the world. I learned that some people are bullies and to just ignore them, that some are know-it-alls who don't have a clue, that sitting far away from players who smoke is a bonus that doesn't happen often, and that some of the best poker faces are just people who are really tired.

I learned that there is nothing to be nervous about, and that you don't have to speed through a hand. I came away from the tournament with a deep respect for someone like my friend T.J. Cloutier, who does this for a living, and realized how much I have left to learn. Not everything can be learned from books. Experience is its own teacher, so now I am going to try a tournament at the Mirage. I only have a few days until the World Series. See you there.