Deal Me In -- Doyle BrunsonAn Exclusive Excerpt from Phil Hellmuth's New Book |
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In its pages are never-before-revealed details of the lives of some of the biggest names in poker. Phil Hellmuth’s new book profiles 20 of the biggest poker players in the world, giving the reader an intimate look at the game’s biggest celebrities.
Deal Me In, a collection of autobiographical accounts from many of poker’s elite, is now available to order online exclusively at www.pokerbrat.com. The book highlights the struggles, obstacles, and tragedies that 20 of the greatest poker pros have overcome in their journeys to the top.
CardPlayer.com is providing exclusive excerpts from the book each Sunday. This week’s passage focuses on Doyle Brunson, who relives an underground home game he lived through in his younger days in this excerpt:
“We were at a guy’s house in Austin playing in a big game. There were several tables going. Suddenly I heard this loud sound. It was glass breaking and a bunch of guys wearing ski masks came through the windows carrying shotguns. They lined us all up against the wall and made us drop our pants down to our ankles. One of the gunmen said, “We want all the money you have, and we don’t have time to strip search each of you to find it. So we’re going to pick a few of you out to search, and if we find you’re hiding anything we’re going to blow your leg off.” Right away one guy standing a few feet away from me says, “Hey good buddy, I’ve got $400 in my pocket.” Another player hollered, “Don’t forget this $600 in my shirt.”
“Then one robber with a double-barrel shotgun walked up to me, turned me around, and asked, “Who runs this poker game?” I’m no snitch, so I answered, “I don’t know.” He wasn’t happy with that answer, so he took his shotgun and hit me in the stomach with it. Then he repeated the question: “Who runs this poker game?” My principles prohibited me from saying anything other than, “I don’t know.” That made him even madder and he took his shotgun and hit me right upside the head. “Now do you know who runs this poker game?” he snarled. Stubbornly, I repeated, “I don’t know.” The robber than cocked both barrels of his shotgun and put it right between my eyes and said, “I’m going to ask you one last time—who runs this poker game?” And I said, “That guy right over there!”
“There’s brave, and then there’s stupid.
“Sometimes, when I see young poker players sitting in the comfortable, safe surroundings of a fancy casino, I wonder if they could ever imagine some of the things we had to go through to play poker back in the early days.”
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