Player's Stories

Sympathy for the Devil
By D.J

When I was about 19 or 20 years old, I wanted to go see a guy that I had been dating that moved to Houston. And since my dad was with the airlines (and I could basically fly for free), I decided to go.

My mom and dad weren't too thrilled with the whole idea, but since I was over 18 and in college they knew if I really wanted to go, I would go anyway with or without their approval. As I was packing my bags for the weekend, my mom came into my room and asked me where I thought I was going packing so much stuff. Somewhat exasperated, I explained to her (much like someone would explain something to a two year old) that I was going to Houston for the weekend...didn't she remember? She explained back to me (somewhat exasperated), that spending the night would be out of the question, AND, if I wanted to come back to my happy "rent free" home, I would have to remember that.

She had cornered me and she knew it! So, somewhat begrudgingly, I agreed to her conditions. So the next Saturday, off I went to visit my "friend" in Houston, and to make a short story even shorter, the guy turned out to be a real jerk and I was glad my parents had insisted I not stay the night (but don't ever tell them I said that).

Once again I was on the plane heading back to Phoenix, except for one minor detail, I missed my original return flight home (fighting off the weirdo). I had to call Mom and Dad and explain things, and after I restored my hearing to it's original state, I was told to go to Las Vegas and stay with my Aunt and Uncle for the night and in the morning take the next flight out to Phoenix. Now that is what I call salvaging my weekend! Did anyone say, "party?" So being the good little actress that I am, I sighed and said, "if you insist." They insisted.

About six or seven in the evening, the plane touches down in Las Vegas, just as the lights of the city turn on in my honor. Aunt Virgie, who is really my MOTHERS Aunt and MY Great Aunt, was there TO meet me the minute I stepped off the plane. I was hoping she wasn't planning on baby-sitting me the whole night. Because after all I WAS almost 20, and if she was going to stick by my side all night, I might as well start walking back to Phoenix now.

Aunt Virgie, (short for Virgie Ann), hugged me and with her heavy Texan accent asked me if I had any more bags. Not trusting that I knew how many bags I took with me, she insisted on inspecting the plan herself. As we walked through the airport lobby, I eyed the slot machines and silently whispered, "I will be with you shortly."

I better stop right here and explain something to you. You see, my Aunt Virgie and Uncle John aren't exactly middle America. They didn't exactly live in Las Vegas, but they weren't exactly visiting there either. My Aunt Virgie was a thief, but only with her husband who knew about it and was ok with it. She would take any money that my Uncle John had, and she would hide it from him for later investment. The reason she did this was because my Uncle John did not exactly have a regular job, and he didn't exactly have a regular paycheck. So her stealing his money was sort of a necessity, an occupational hazard you might say. My Uncles job was not exactly respectable but it wasn't exactly UN-respectable either. He was a professional gambler.

My Uncle would bet on anything. He would bet you if it was going to rain, he would bet you that it wasn't going to rain. He would bet on games, the horses, playing golf (which was one of his favorite things to do outside of poker). He would even bet that God himself would show up at the end of the week if he thought it was going to happen. But to look at him, one would think he was just another retired gentlemen playing away his hard-earned money in the card rooms on the strip. And that is exactly what he HOPED you thought. He bet on it.

So...as part of a famous Rolling Stone says, "pleased to meet you, hope you guess my name." Have you figured out from the clues that I have given you thus far, who my Uncle might be? I will bet you $50 you haven't figured it out yet. "Oops, sorry, it sort of runs in the family." For the rest of you, my Great Uncle is none other than the first World Series of Poker Champion, Johnny Moss.

Back to the story. I was excited to finally get to see him playing in person. I was always too young before this, and ESPN had not started televising this event at that time. I could hardly wait. I got to the hotel, and as expected my Uncle was no where around. So my Aunt left me to go look for him, and I unpacked my suitcase, and jumped into the shower ready for my big night in Vegas! My Aunt eventually returned, and she and I went to dinner and a show. We got front row seats and everywhere we went, we were treated like royalty! And in a way, I guess we were like royalty, because everyone knew who Johnny Moss was. And he was the king of the Texas Hold em poker game.

After the show and dinner, we went to find my Uncle and surprise, surprise he was in the card room, deep in a game of poker. She walked right up to my Uncle and said something to him. He turned around got up and came and hugged me while the other players at the table looked slightly perturbed, but not one of them dare say a thing. And just as quickly as he had stood up to greet me, he had sat down again to continue playing.

My Aunt and I started to walk back to the hotel room, when she stopped me and said, "Your Uncle John wanted me to give you this." I looked down into my hand and she put about six, $100 bills there. I just stood there dumbly looking at her and then the money. "Wa...wa....what am I supposed to do with this," I asked her? She studied me for a minute and then asked me how old I was now, I lied and told her "21!" Without missing a beat, she spun around and was about half-way out of the casino when I heard her say in that Texas drawal, "yeah sure you are, and I am Miss Texas." She spun around came right back up to me and said, "I know you aren't 21 but you are close enough and if anyone says anything to you, you tell them to go and talk to your Uncle John." I said, "you mean I am supposed go and gamble with this?" I could hardly believe my luck!

As I stood there in the middle of that casino, I KNEW why my Uncle John played poker. I KNEW why it was in his blood, because now it was in mine. I knew that someday I would win the World Series of Poker, just like he did. I would ask Uncle John to teach me, and I would be the best player in the world! I would quit going to ASU, I would move to Las Vegas and become a professional poker player. But first, I needed to learn how to play.

That was 20 years ago. My Uncle John and his beautiful wife Virgie, have since passed away. But every year as April starts to roll around, I think back to that day so long ago, and can't help but smile. I know that soon it is my turn. I will soon be the next World Series of Poker Champion. Did I quit school twenty years ago and move to Vegas to become a professional poker player? Did Uncle John teach me his deepest secrets and pass on his legacy of tips and tricks for the game? Did I play last year, will I play next year, will I be this years World Series of Poker Champion...Wanna bet on it?

Writers note:

The "by line" initials, is a nickname I use because I used to be a DJ. So, if you are trying to figure out who I am from those initials, it won't help!

"Don't ever let em see what you are holding" J. Moss

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