A Stone Cold Killer

Players often fondly remind me of the great nights we had at the bar in Binions back in the day. I’ve given up on telling them that I never had a drink at that bar during the WSOP. Or any other bar in Vegas for that matter. But why let the truth spoil a good myth ?

One day, two players who were to become household names when poker took off big time were drinking beer at this famous bar. In the interests of protecting the stupid, lets call them Player A and Player B. They were both keeping a close eye on a decent sized stud game that was being played nearby. Player A, because he preferred to watch the game rather than listen to Player B, and Player B because the guy in the 1 seat owed him 500 bucks. Seat 1 was a pretty decent player who wisely supplemented his poker income by doing a few bits and pieces for local businessmen. Most, if not all, of these bits and pieces involved killing people but, you know, when a guy is between bankrolls he’s gotta do what he’s gotta do.

After several beers, Player B approached Seat 1 with a view to discussing the outstanding debt. Seat 1 immediately acknowledged that he did indeed owe him 500 and intended to pay him but that at that moment in time he was being staked in the game so the money in front of him wasn’t his. A less than happy Player B retreated to the bar. Player A pointed out that Seat 1 was an honourable guy and a pretty decent egg in general. Especially when he wasn’t murdering people. He also helpfully suggested that if you wanted to piss somebody off, you could do better than mess with a stone cold killer.

Player B was a fine poker player but one **** drinker, so the inevitable eventually happened. He again approached the poker table and attempted to reopen the discussion re the 500 bucks. Seat 1 politely told him to go away. He didn’t. Instead, he stood there and proceeded to go through a kung fu warmup Bruce Lee would have been proud of. Seat 1 stood up, shrugged his shoulders, and hit the guy with a punch that caught Player B right in the middle of his forehead. He knocked him clean across the room and then sat back into his seat as though nothing had happened and the game resumed.

After about five minutes, Player B struggled to his feet and staggered to the bar where he applied a cold bottle of beer to a lump the size of a golf ball which appeared in the middle of his forehead.

There’s probably a poker lesson there somewhere. I’m no expert but I’m guessing its got something to do with game selection.