Memoirs of a Gambler

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From the unique perspective of the working-class valleys of South Wales to the poker tables of Europe, high-stakes online roulette, and dangerous sporting accumulators, Philip John recalls his incredible gambling journey and sheds light on the relentlessness of the battle with your own psyche.
First 10 Pages

Amsterdam was charming in the promising sunshine of July and football world cup fever was in full grip as the Dutch colours were draped like oranges from pillar to post. I was in Amsterdam to celebrate that I’d completed university, one of the first in my family ever to hold a degree. My friends and I were looking for post-graduate careers now, but before that we wanted to mark the end of an era with this trip.

I was eager to indulge in the delights that the Dutch capital was so famous for: historic museums, quaint canals, liberal red lights, and, perhaps, a particular type of cake that may not be lawfully obtained in the land of my fathers. However, it was a drug of a different kind that would shape my visit to the Dutch capital… and the entire course of my life.

The summer sun was setting beautifully as it cast its final rays, shimmering across the city’s canals. It was complimented by an almost chaotic freedom as the cyclists infested the streets and the vehicles seemed to flow instinctively through a maze of intersections and tramlines. It was much more liberal than my homeland and it all seemed to work, just about.

Within a few minutes of walking, we arrived at the casino. It was located in a charming little square of bars and restaurants with a water fountain as its centrepiece. Inside, it looked more like Las Vegas with its rich red carpets, flashing lights, immaculate staff, and not a clock in sight.

I had frequented the casinos of Cardiff in the past, never spending more than about forty pounds, but this felt a little different. Despite it seeming larger and, I suppose, more exclusive, we were not expecting a ten-euro charge to enter. I looked at Minty, the marginally shorter of my two compatriots, and he pulled his usual expression of being slightly dissatisfied but reluctantly accepting.

We had all been fairly decided on our plan for the evening and so we paid up and headed straight for the bar. We took our Dutch beers and found ourselves an empty table. It was at that point that I noticed a specific, sign posted section of the casino exclusively for ‘Texas Hold ‘Em’ poker. I knew the others had no interest in the temptations of the house, so I gave them my blessing to go ahead to the restaurant should I not return within a suitable time frame. In truth, I didn’t intend on playing for more than an hour. As it turned out, I did not end up being any longer than that but it was by no means the hour I was quite expecting…

"Excuse me, are there any tables opening up?" I enquired with one of the croupiers.

"Yes, sir. Please take a seat here," she directed me to an empty table.

"Blinds are one and two Euros, and minimum buy-in is one hundred Euros," she informed me of that as I was just about to take forty Euros out of my wallet.

I tried to maintain a sense of composure, but I was slightly shocked and had not expected that as a minimum buy-in. I suppose a sense of pride stopped me from walking away at that point and in my head I had quickly formulated a plan to fold a few hands, finish my drink, and walk away without too much embarrassment.

The table instantly filled up, and there were nine players including myself. I can't say at that moment that I took too much notice of the other players but, after taking a nervous sip of my beer, it unsettled me when I saw them exchanging mountains of notes for stacks of one hundred Euro chips.

I was going to start this game as the short stack by several hundred and, as I finally began to look into the eyes of my fellow players, I could see them staring at my pocket change. I took a large swig of my beer and looked across willingly at the dealer to get it over with.

The dealer did not look much older than myself, maybe twenty five at the time, but he was a competent professional and hypnotised the cards into an exotic dance before stopping them dead in the middle of the green clothed table. He proceeded to deal a card face up to each player to determine which of us would take the dealer's button (1); the two players to the left of the dealer's button would be the small and big blinds (2) respectively and these would continue to shift left around the table with each round of poker.

Directly opposite me and to the immediate left of the dealer, there sat a black man wearing lightly tinted sunglasses who I would have guessed was in his mid thirties – he looked like he would mean business both on and off the table so we’ll refer to him simply as the Shark. The dealer’s button would be placed with him as he drew the ace of hearts, a higher card than the rest of us. The small blind was with a slim, black-haired lady who was the only woman at the table. To my left was a bald headed, white European man. I assumed he was speaking some Dutch to a dark haired man to his left - I would later discover that they were both Danish.

The young dealer tossed the cards effortlessly, one at a time, to each of the nine players - a cycle he repeated again until every player had two cards each. I nervously lifted the tips of my cards to reveal the nine of clubs and the four of hearts - a nothing hand that would be easy for me to fold, allowing me to relax and take a further sip of my beer.

A few forgettable hands had passed in a similar fashion to the first and my beer was almost empty - seemingly a good time to walk away without too much indignity. The small blind then passed me and I would not have had to commit any more money after seeing one more hand. One more hand.

I lifted the cards to see two red coloured aces staring at me like a pair of hypnotic eyes and they were bullets I could not let go unfired. I hoped to pick up a few extra chips before, and after, the first three cards were dealt (known as the flop (3)). However, to my pleasant surprise, the decision was soon made for me and, after the two Danes had folded, a middle-aged man with a full, thick and greying beard raised a hundred Euros – I’ll refer to him as Captain Birdseye, who I sincerely hoped would not catch the fish at this table. It was a huge bet in comparison to my own stack of chips which was roughly eighty-five Euros. If I were to have called, I would be all-in and that was really all of the money I was intending to spend on the rest of my travels.

I tried to maintain a calm exterior but it proved even more difficult when the Shark to the left of the dealer raised a further one hundred Euros and was subsequently called by the dark haired woman next to him. I had little time to give much further thought as the next player folded and all eyes turned to face me for my decision to be made. There was absolutely no question that I would have to play the hand. It was the jackpot hand, pocket Aces, the best in the game. But my hesitation came because of the stakes. At that point in time, it would be by far the biggest single bet I had ever made and the biggest pot by some way.

"All-in," I announced with conviction, though my heart was pounding as I tried my best to steady my hand whilst placing my chips in the centre of the table. A side-pot was to be played out with the remaining players as they still had chips to continue betting with, but all I could do was sit and watch, and hope, as the round played out.

A jack and a nine of spades with the two of diamonds - the first two cards were ominous as they presented the possibility of a straight flush, a straight, and even a flush (4) - all superior to my pair of aces. Captain Birdseye raised a huge two-hundred Euros and I was astonished at how casually he could toss these chips into the centre of the table and out of his grasp. It was also a worrying sign that he may have something in his hands that was worth that significant investment or, I wondered, was it a staggering bluff?

The Shark did not think for very long before reluctantly sliding his cards face down towards the dealer and that confirmed his fold of the hand. The sole woman decided to call at which point I saw Captain Birdseye noticeably stroking his buried jawline - was that a sign of weakness?

The next card, known as the turn (5), presented itself as the six of hearts and would surely have no real influence. Whatever that card meant for the players left in, it did not deter the aggressive betting tactics of Captain Birdseye. He placed a further three hundred Euros into the pot, which was more than the lady's stack. She was not in the slightest deterred and, without any comment, she slid her remaining stack into the pot.

The players decided not to reveal their hands before the final card, known as the river (6), had been revealed by the dealer. The final card was another six, that time it was of clubs. To my relief, it ruled out the possibility of a flush.

"Sir..." the dealer gave me the nod as I was in the position required to reveal their hand first so I cautiously placed my Aces face up on the table. It attracted a number of audible approvals and claps from the other players and those few spectators that had begun to gather around the table. I hadn’t noticed them at that point as I was so engrossed in the game.

Captain Birdseye was not impressed and revealed an Ace and a Jack. He had bet extravagantly and faithfully with his one pair of Jacks following the flop. The female revealed that both of her cards were Queens. Luckily for me, nothing that the dealer had presented gave them anything that could trump my Aces and I was about to receive over two hundred and fifty Euros as my share of the bets. The lady would win the side-pot that had built up between herself and the bearded man which was also quite a sum!

I was overjoyed with the win and decided another beer was in order. I had planned to indulge in a few more rounds of betting and then head off to treat my fellow travellers to a few more beverages than we had originally anticipated.

"A great time to have the Aces," said the bald man in very good English with a mild Scandinavian accent.

"I certainly can't complain," I replied through a beaming smile, and I couldn't help noticing how my stack now seemed respectable. I threw a few bets in here and there to speculate to which the other players had responded to by folding. My stack had suddenly appeared in far greater health than when I had first taken my seat.

I continued the friendly conversation with the bald headed man who introduced himself as Karl, a Danish man who had been working in the Dutch capital for a few days. He was generally more accustomed to a game of blackjack and only occasionally frequented the poker tables. I gathered that the table had more of his ilk - wealthy men and women from the world of business and commerce. And then of course there was me, a self-unemployed graduate from the post-mining, working-class valleys of South Wales. That night, however, I was enjoying the novelty of going head to head with the high rollers. My good fortune may have demanded a bit more respect around the table but in truth I think that I was just more relaxed about being involved. The second beer was like a golden nectar trickling with the joys of my good luck.

I was at the table for less than an hour, but even by then it felt like an all night affair. A nine and ten of clubs found their way to me and I told myself that it would be the last hand. I should return to my friends who would soon be leaving the bright lights behind for an evening meal. A relaxed, small succession of bets encouraged me to stay in the hand to see what the young dealer would conjure up for my swansong.

When a Jack, a Queen, and the four of clubs were revealed, I could have punched my fist into the air with delight. As that might just have given the game away, I calmly placed thirty Euros into the pot. To my disbelief, the Shark pushed all of his chips into the centre - he was all in. With that, another player, a young, blonde haired man who the waiter had referred to as Rudy, placed all of his chips into the centre. My heart rate raised considerably once again and though I tried my best not to show any emotion, I have no doubt that my face was beginning to show signs of excitement.

I could not let that one go. Already holding a flush of clubs and with the potential to convert that into a straight flush should the necessary cards present themselves, I called the bet and placed my sum of just over three-hundred Euros into the pot. I rarely had that sort of money in my bank account at any one time, let alone to hand such a quantity over in one single bet. I had never really considered myself to be a serious gambler and I felt like things were unfolding outside of my control. I was yet to experience the flipside of such sensations but I was fully intending to ride the waves of fortune whilst they were going my way.

‘The turn’ was dealt and the king of hearts showed his face with the two of diamonds on ‘the river’ to round off the game. Rudy turned over a king and a queen of spades and as a consequence the Shark threw his cards to the dealer, face down, in disgust. I showed my flush and Rudy shouted something in Dutch – I can't imagine it was anything pleasant. The rest of the table and the several spectators gave another, louder round of applause. The dealer began to stack up my winnings as I stared, wide eyed, at the piles of chips in front of me.

"Not a bad evening for you, my friend." Karl congratulated me with a wry smile as I had begun to do a rough calculation of my winnings. The adrenaline was running too high to work out the exact sum, but I knew it was over a thousand Euros. I felt absolutely elated and, after the initial shock, I could not stop myself grinning from ear to ear and there had never been a win that compared to that in the past - I had simply never had the money to even consider betting enough nor would I have had the desire to.

The dealer congratulated me and passed on my chips. Rudy had already left the table before the next hand was to be dealt. I folded a few more rounds whilst finishing another beer, wished Karl all the best, and thanked the dealer for his service before gathering my chips ready to cash in.

I could not resist spreading my good news and despite only having a few beers, I felt as though I was on another planet or standing at a hundred feet tall. My friends already knew - the expression on my face painted a thousand words.

"Come on then, how much?" I placed the chips on their table.

"There's over a thousand Euros there, about nine hundred or so of profit."

FOOTNOTES:

(1) In poker, the dealer button is a marker given to the player who is dealing or, in a casino with a croupier acting as the designated dealer, the player who acts last on that deal (who would be the dealer for a game in a domestic setting).

(2) Blinds are forced bets posted by players to the left of the dealer button. The "small blind" is placed by the player to the left of the dealer button and the "big blind" is then placed by the next player to the left. The "big blind" is equal to the minimum bet and the "small blind" is usually half of the “big blind”.

(3) The first three face-up cards dealt to the board following which the second round of betting takes place.

(4) A straight flush is a hand containing five cards in chronological order, all of the same suit. A straight is a hand that contains five cards in chronological order, but not all of the same suit. A flush is a hand that contains five cards all of the same suit, but not in chronological order.

(5) The fourth face-up card dealt to the board following which the third round of betting takes place.

(6) The fifth and final face-up card to be dealt to the board following which the final round of betting takes place. The river will determine the final outcome if the betting has continued up to this concluding round.

Comments

Stewart Carry Wed, 26/07/2023 - 09:12

A great hook to get the reader involved...the tension builds as we start to root for our 'hero's...a little more attention to body language etc would be welcome.

Cat Margulis Fri, 11/08/2023 - 04:34

I like how well you bring us into the story, teaching us newbies about the game while still coming off as an insider and one who knows the scene and game intimately. The intro is alluring, but the ending is flat. I'm also curious how this story will develop over the course of the book, and some foreshadowing as to where this will all lead and how it will transform the protagonist (for better or worse?) will help the reader navigate with an eye to the larger arch of the book. Great beginning!

Tammy Letherer Sun, 13/08/2023 - 20:42

I enjoyed the voice and pacing of the opening paragraphs, and you did a good job of orienting me to the who, why, where, when. Your intentions going into the game were well described too, and it was only once the game started that I lost interest. The focus shifted from you, the character, and your conflict, to the details of the game and then lost steam.

Gale Winskill Tue, 22/08/2023 - 17:53

It reads partly like fiction, which is good, but I found the technical details and especially the reference notes really off-putting. I would try to find a way to explain these things within the text, but in a more accessible manner, otherwise you risk alienating non-gambling readers.

Samar Hammam Sat, 26/08/2023 - 08:30

An honest telling. At moments a bit technical, but an interesting start.

Jessica Hatch Mon, 28/08/2023 - 15:33

Interesting premise, as gambling addiction impacts so many people these days, but I don't feel that I get a clear sense of the writer's inner world, which is critical for memoir. In its place is an unnecessary focus on the SOP of a game of Texas Hold 'Em.