The War Room

Columnist's note: I am taking a break from writing in this issue to give my good friend Oliver Nejad the opportunity to be a guest columnist. I'm sure you'll enjoy his column.



While there are probably a good number of readers saying, "I know that guy," as they read my name, there are undoubtedly a great many more who are wondering who the heck I am, and what business I have writing this column.



Well, let me start there. I am better known in the poker world as "Ali," and to the growing subgroup of players who journey into cyberspace to get their fix, I'm known as "FrigginDonk" (a screen name I owe to my friend Prahlad Friedman, who created it aboard the PartyPoker Million cruise three years ago). Although I am first and foremost an actively working television host/reporter/producer, I also happen to be a professional poker player, and over the last six years, I have dealt, "propped," played online and live, played high and low limits and tournaments, and now I have written a column for Card Player. By virtue of playing over the years, and more recently by way of my involvement as an MC on FoxSportsNet's Poker Superstars Invitational II, and NBC's Heads-Up Poker Championship (I'm the guy wandering around on mute in the background with a mic in my hand on both shows), I have had the good fortune of befriending many of today's top professionals, one of whom happens to be Thomas Keller.



Thomas and I first met years ago when I was going to school at Cal-Berkeley (coincidentally, with Prahlad) and he was across the bay attending archrival Stanford. We both converged upon the local $30-$60 game at Bay 101 to lock horns, avoid writing term papers, and not have to fumble around a fraternity game with beer-soaked tables, pennies for chips, and wet, bent, paper playing cards that give new meaning to the familiar cry: "New setup." Well, it's a few years later and "Thunder" is playing well over 10 times that limit with one-fifth the number of players. What do I mean? Well, he is playing heads-up, $300-$600 games and higher these days, and I am just "sweating" him.



It's currently 4 a.m., and we are sitting up in his palatial new home, in what I will affectionately coin the "War Room," for lack of a better way to describe it. One would hardly think of this as an office where any type of business or productivity could possibly be conducted: half-empty water bottles strewn everywhere between an infestation of wireless mice and indiscernibly charged or drained batteries that I like to call "mouse droppings," a dizzying array of LCD screens, multiple keyboards and computer towers, stacks of manuals for electronics I don't even think he owns, a random collection of foam-wrapped Hispanic art (his new investment), an assortment of random garbage, and my personal favorite – plates of corn dog sticks with that one pesky bit of batter that is so hard to gnaw off the base still left, confirming that it was not a popsicle that was eaten, but indeed one of frozen food's finest offerings. Fear not, though, for Thomas' lack of commitment to a Zenlike work environment; after all, when was the last time you felt Zen in a cardroom? I don't know about your local brick-and-mortar casino, but at those that I frequent, things can get pretty anti-Zen regularly on the high-limit side. And as tempted as I am to reconfigure things to fall more in accordance with my loose and likely inaccurate understanding of feng shui, I must concede that whatever the kid's got goin' on, it's workin'. He's currently ahead in his games an amount that would make a normal person cringe, and that's just since I started writing this column. Welcome to a day in the life of annual-salary-swings poker, outside the confines of the etched glass at the Bellagio VIP room, and at the tender age of 24, no less.



Many of us have undertaken poker as an incredibly desirable alternative lifestyle that allows us to presumably escape the rigors of the real world (I would argue that we only experience said rigors more acutely, but that's a "whole 'nother Oprah"). Most will fail in this endeavor. Others will grind in perpetuity, eking out a much more meager or unstable living than they had planned on, perhaps eventually turning to work for the casino in which they went broke – the ol' player turned dealer trick. But some, those rare few who don't take up poker because they are lazy, motivationally challenged people looking to get rich quick, pay off debt, or avoid waking up when the sun is out, will flourish. Thomas is just such an individual. His commitment, dedication, resolve, and competitive spirit all appear at astounding levels – and that's not just some verbal-shoeshine "thanks for the column, buddy" bit.



My time with him in his element gave me a glimpse of what's actually happening on the other side of that instant messenger window when we are both logging our hours online. He's juggling cellphone calls, searching for that painfully indistinct piece of paper with that all-important piece of information scribbled on it, trying to set the AC thermostat somewhere between arctic blast and equatorial summer, tending to his rambunctious but affectionate canine tandem (Waldo, a miniature dachshund, and Gizmo, a Yorkshire terrier), monitoring the lobbies across multiple sites to make sure he isn't missing a good game (even though he's likely playing in two to four games already), keeping an ear out for his wife's occasional call of "Honey?" from the living room, and trying to figure out why the blasted Internet is lagging or down altogether – all at the same time. It truly is an amazing sight to witness.



That said, there was something that concerned me about this portrait of synaptic overdrive: When did he find time to breathe? On multiple days during my trip, I had asked Thomas to come out with Andra (his wonderful wife) and me, and invest in any number of social exercises, but I was mostly met with a slew of resistance, either because he was playing and stuck, playing and in too good a game to get up, or not playing but sleeping, because he had been up playing all night. Thomas had even invited several of his friends over for a party one night, but had been largely MIA during the evening because he was parked in front of the "ATM" (aka his computer) while the party went on without its host. It got me thinking: "Does the lucrative nature of a high-limit poker career turn life itself into somewhat of an opportunity cost?" Our mutual friend Prahlad once told me I was destined to be the wealthiest busted player ever, because of my propensity to regularly spend a significant portion of my poker earnings on miscellaneous indulgences. But how wrong am I to do that? Would it be better to go broke without having anything to show for my efforts, or without having taken any time away from poker to enjoy the life it affords me? I don't know that there is a right or wrong answer, although I know there are many who will challenge my opinion. The objective is obviously never to go broke, and, of course, spending from one's bankroll is inescapably a step toward that very end, but I submit that it can be not only one that is worthwhile, but perhaps even one that could make an intangible contribution to the opposite outcome. Breaking the monotonous, consuming, cyclical nature of playing poker (particularly online poker, where the human interface is absent) via any number of personally preferred outlets I have found is a necessary and healthy way to balance my life.



It enables me to be happier, more detached from the game, and more prepared to play well when I return to it. Of course, I have the ability to retreat to my television career, which I enjoy greatly, and most pros don't have second jobs.



Find something you like to do, and escape to it when the stresses of poker weigh too heavily on you. Go to a spa for the day (my favorite), play a sport, watch a movie, or go on a date (or die trying to get one)! The casino is always open, and the Internet is never closed. I think the skeptics and the cynics will be surprised by how much of a contribution these sorts of things may make toward their success at the table. I actually had a very heartfelt conversation with Thomas about my philosophy, and I think he just might have liked what I had to say. Now, who would've thought a "FrigginDonk" had something to offer a World Series of Poker bracelet winner?

Thomas "Thunder" Keller is a 24-year-old professional poker player and one of poker's young and rising stars. He can often be found playing at Ultimatebet.com under the name thunderkeller. To learn more about him, go to his website at www.thunderkeller.com. He may be contacted at [email protected].



You can catch "Ali" as a guest color commentator on upcoming episodes of UPN's Ultimate Poker Challenge, and playing at Commerce Casino or online at ultimatebet.com as friggindonk. He may be contacted at [email protected].