The Fish That Got Away

It's no secret that the life of a tournament poker player is a very tough one. There are not many people who can endure the rigors of the travel and living in hotel rooms for weeks at a time. It is even harder to endure the tremendous emotional ups and downs of winning and losing. It is the exception to see someone who not only gets by all the hard parts and is successful, but relishes the whole scene - someone who actually enjoys, and even thrives on, the whole process.

When I try to think of someone who fits into that category, it's a no-brainer. He is the one and only Hans "Tuna" Lund. Everyone knows, remembers, and probably has a story about Tuna, who started playing in tournaments in 1977. He was at almost every tournament for 20 years. He played satellites of every kind, and tournaments of every buy-in amount.

Tuna won two World Series of Poker bracelets, one Hall of Fame watch, the Super Bowl of Poker main event, the best all-around player award at the Diamond Jim Brady tournament, and a second and third place in the $10,000 buy-in main event at the World Series of Poker. He has many more titles and accolades, but they're too numerous to mention.

When Tuna decided to "retire" from the tournament circuit in 1997, he had won well over $2 million. He obviously was successful as a tournament player, but it went far beyond that. He was a guy everyone liked. He was someone whose opinion on poker was respected by everyone. When he got knocked out of a tournament, he usually was found at an empty table "holding court." It seems that every newcomer or old pro considered him the resident expert. Holding court meant that everyone asked him questions about how a certain hand should or should not have been played in a certain situation. Tuna actually listened to everyone's whole story and then told them, honestly, if they had, in his opinion, played correctly or incorrectly.

Tuna and I became very good friends, and many a time went to an empty table, sat down, and began to talk. Invariably, the next thing we knew, there were 10 people standing around wanting a piece of Tuna's time. I have to say that Tuna was one of the few tournament players I have ever seen who got other players' attention when he spoke.

By now, if you're a newcomer to the tournament scene, you're probably asking, "Well, what happened to this Tuna Lund. Did he die, or what?" The answer to you newcomers and old-time players who keep asking me, "Where's Tuna?" is that he is doing just fine.

Tuna has just put playing poker on hold for a few years. You see, a few years ago, Tuna was confronted with a tremendous decision. He had gone through a divorce and, without my passing judgment on the how or why, had taken primary custody of his two children - Lilly, age 5, and Little Jimmy, age 3. Other friends and I suggested to him at that time that he should hire a full-time nanny and continue to go to tournaments. After all, he had been very successful playing tournaments and could certainly afford a nanny. Plus, and very importantly, he was still one of the very best, most successful players in the business.

Well, Mr. Lund is a man of deep principles; maybe he's not religious, but he is a guy whose sense of right and wrong is beyond reproach. Tuna told me, "I have to raise my kids. They need a dad to be there every night."

At first it was sad to see such a talented, genuinely good person be deprived of doing something that he loved to do. Yet, on the other hand, it was joyous, touching, and heartwarming to see someone sacrifice a big part of his life for the love and devotion of his family.

I called Tuna recently and asked him how he is doing. He said the kids are a handful, but he is happy and doing just fine. I asked him if he misses the tournament circuit, and he said he does. He said the love of playing poker is still with him. He went on to say that he misses the competition of playing against the best players in the world, and that when the kids get a few years older, he'll be back. I asked him if winning the "Big One" is still as important a goal in his life as it was before he quit. He said to me, "Things change. It's still important, but not nearly as important as it was way back when."

Tuna still lives in his beloved Reno and is no longer on the tournament "circuit." But, if you go to Reno for one of the local tournaments there, you might just look around at the people sitting at your table and see one of the best poker players ever to play - the big fish, Hans "Tuna" Lund.

For what it's worth …