Rules, Rules, Rules

A casino in Los Angeles has been flirting with the idea of banning cell phones during tournaments; not just the use of them, but even their mere appearance. How come? Well, they want to protect any celebrity who might show up. They don't want anyone trying to sneak a picture using one of those newfangled cell phones/cameras and then sell it to the National Enquirer for $5 million.

And by "celebrity," I don't mean Dirty Wally. Wally has never seen a picture of himself that he didn't like. Not only does he allow pictures of himself, he begs you to take them. He carries around a few hundred autographed photos of himself and even stocks a supply of disposable cameras for anyone who needs one to take shots of him. He reminds me of the guys who dress up as Superman, Batman, Zorro, and so on, and stand in front of Grauman's Chinese Theater in Hollywood so tourists can snap them. The difference is that they expect to get paid, whereas Wally will pay you to photograph him.

In any event, this banning of cell phones/cameras shows how far poker has advanced (or is it regressed?) from its primitive Wild West roots. I mean, just try to picture this scene in an old Western saloon. Jeb Hawkins is playing poker with Slippery Slim Slade, the most notorious cardsharp in 12 states. Suddenly, Jeb jumps up and shouts, "Why, you dirty varmint!" and pulls out his six-shooter and lets daylight through Slippery Slade. A bystander asks, "Whut did that that snake do, Jeb? Ring in a marked deck? Have cards up his sleeve?"

"Nah," Jeb sneers. "He tried ta take mah picture with one a' them cell phone things."

The banning of cuss words would have gone over big then, too. Imagine cowboys of that era being restricted as to what they could say. After a horrendous bad beat, they'd have to recite, "My goodness gracious, Tom, I do believe you hit a 1,000-1 shot to overcome my four of a kind. Had I not known better, I might have suspected you had a deck up your sleeve. Congratulations, old sport."

Or: "Heavens to Betsy, dealer. Had you not burned and turned prematurely and been forced to re-deal, I would have made a royal flush and collected the high hand of the day reward. Please do not be upset. I appreciate how hard you fellows work, and such oversights are part of the game."

Yeah, sure. Guys were allowed to say what they meant in those days, using any words that immediately came to mind. In fact, the only word that could get you a penalty was "draw." Utter that word and someone could draw his pistol and deliver a six-bullet penalty. In fact, that was how the term "draw poker" originated. Knives were also frequently put in play to save money on ammunition. That, incidentally, was how the term "guts to open" originated.

The "cards on the floor" penalty rule would have drawn hearty laughter from the old Western players. The only object landing on the floor to attract even passing notice would have been one of the players.

"Hey, porter, sweep that dang body outta here an' bring us a live one."

Another rule that wouldn't have made much sense in those days was the "English only" rule. Let's face it. How many cowboys in the 1800s spoke Vietnamese or Kurdish? For that matter, I don't understand the "English only" dictum even today. After all, in the Los Angeles area, 90 percent of the players can't even speak English.

Calling for a clock when a player took too long to act would have gone over big in those days, too. Ever see one of those Western movies? Jesse Clampett, a hardworking homesteader, is trying his luck in a big game. Somebody bets $1,000 into him. Hands shaking, he picks up his cards and stares at four kings!

"I aims ta call ya, Luke, but I need a little time ta raise the cash," he stammers.

Luke agrees to give him two hours. Jesse runs to the bank, carrying his cards for collateral, and begs the hardhearted bank manager to give him a loan for a mortgage on his farmhouse and land. After extracting a usurious interest charge, and having Jesse sign his life away on a contract, the manager gives him the money. Jesse runs back to the game just before the two hours are up, plunks the cash down – and of course learns that his opponent has four aces.

If you've seen one of those flicks, you'll know it's all part of a nefarious plot that the bank manager was in on, because unbeknown to Jesse, oil has been detected on the poor schlub's property. Now, how could they pull off this little scam if they had only 60 seconds on the clock?

Oh, and how about the "string bet" rule? Let's transpose this to another standard saloon poker scene. A cowpoke bets $500. Clem Dawson says, "Ah'll call that," pushes his $500 in chips into the pot, and then says, "an' ah'll raise yuh five thousand more."

"String bet! String bet!" chirps an onlooker, Percy Goodbody.

Blam, blam, blam!

Then, of course, you have the special rules being imposed by the World Poker Tour. If the WPT had been around during the frontier days and tried to tell poker-playing cowboys what they could and could not wear, forbid them from making deals, and then made them show their holecards and wear makeup for the cameras, you can be certain that Steve Lipscomb would have been swinging from the nearest tree branch.

Well, I've offered a few comparisons between those wide-open, freewheeling days of the Old West and the repressive, rule-obsessed atmosphere of today's card casinos. There is, however, one ironic exception. Back in the dark ages of Western saloon poker, they had only one rule: no Indians allowed in the casinos. I wonder what they would have said if they knew that those same Native Americans would someday own most of the casinos.u

You can find Max in the Play the Experts tournament every Wednesday at 9 p.m. EST at RoyalVegasPoker.com.