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All In

By Ron Donoho
All In

(page 1 of 2)

I’M PLAYING TEXAS HOLD ’EM with the tall and effusive Phil Gordon. He is the kind of niche celebrity you’ve never heard of, or you idolize. The well-polished Gordon is a professional poker player and cohost of Celebrity Poker on Bravo.

He’s in San Diego at Harrah’s Rincon Casino. I get the rare chance to play against him in preparation for a trip to Las Vegas, during which I intend to hit at least a half-dozen poker rooms on the Strip. But my game is weak. I couldn’t bluff Forrest Gump.

So Gordon tries to key me in. He says a good player has to be aggressive. But patient. And courageous. Yet observant.

“A great poker player has all these qualities,” says Gordon. “But if you think about it, these are all qualities you need to be great at almost any job. Michael Jordan has all those qualities——just aimed in a different direction.”

THE CLOSEST I’LL COME to the greatness of M.J. is by wearing his clothing line. Which I am, sitting at a $2-$4 no-limit Hold ’Em table in the Mandalay Bay poker room. “No limit” means I can go “all in” with my chips at any time. (Some games play with betting limits——best for neophytes).

The room is on the casino floor, next to the sports book. A wood-paneled wall lines one side. It’s a pleasant, middle-of-the-road area——loud, but clean. Two men sitting to my right laugh and joke after every hand——win or lose. A gray-haired gent at the other end of the table is wheelchair-bound. Suddenly, he moans loudly. Seems his mechanical hip has slipped out of place. We’re all concerned. But he says it happens all the time. With a grimace he realigns himself, and play resumes.

Mandalay’s poker room is not the most upscale. But it’s already my favorite in Vegas for one important reason: I walk away with $350 after three hours of play.

I’M IN TOWN WITH FRIENDS who love staying at the low-budget Stardust. They knowingly call it the Stardirt. The place is——thankfully——supposed to be imploded later this year. Soon, the casino’s octogenarian cocktail servers will have to find work elsewhere.

One member of this Stardirt gang is Steve Dannenman. Last year, Dannenman became an everyman’s version of Phil Gordon. His first time out, Dannenman took second place (and $4.5 million) by besting 5,600 competitors in the ESPN-televised World Series of Poker.

At my 1-2 no-limit Stardirt table, someone notices Dannenman playing elsewhere in the room.

“That’s Steve Dannenman playing on a 3-6 limit table,” says a young guy with a Yankees cap pulled down to his eyebrows. “He’s a millionaire! Why is he playing limit poker?”

Without hesitation, a corn-fed man with a white beard replies, “Because he wants to stay a millionaire.”

The Stardust poker room is a sty, and the tables are wobbly. But I have a fondness for the place, since I leave with more money than I came in with.

CAESARS RECENTLY REDID its poker room. It is pristine and immense——a room unto itself, set off from the casino. Caesars has an electronic “interest list” board. When you show up at a poker room, you have to sign up for a table. You name the type of game you want——no-limit or limit, with various betting levels (generally ranging from $3-$6 all the way up to $40-$80). If the room has an open seat on a table you want, you can jump right into a game. If not, your name goes up on the board. Some players will wait for a specific type of game. Antsy aficionados might get into a 3-6 limit game while waiting for a no-limit table to drop a player.

Caesars is a perfectly nice place to play. But after dropping two bills in half an hour, I leave without looking back. Three kings should not be beaten by a full house.