Fine piece of participatory journalism
If I had a nickel for every poker book I've read I'd have a couple of bucks more than I have now. That's a tidy number of poker books. Of those books--I've still got about thirty of them around the house--none is more interesting than this fine piece of work by Paris Review contributing editor Andy Bellin.
It starts out rather mundanely with a not entirely promising poker story that he doesn't finish until the penultimate chapter. There are some familiar quotes and some even more familiar poker stories (including the Wild Bill Hickok yarn about aces and eights), a table listing the ranking of poker hands (oh, boy) and another giving the odds and frequency of being dealt various hands in either draw poker or five card stud. (How valuable is that when those games are seldom spread anymore?)
But then it gets interesting because what we discover is that Bellin really does know what he's talking about. He's been there and done that. Not at the highest level (see, e.g., Doyle Brunson's According To Doyle or Bobby Baldwin's Winning Poker Secrets for life there) but at the semi-pro level and as a journalist. He covers the poker experience from New York to Los Angeles through personal experience and from interviews with some of the personalities of the game including Benny Binion, Erik Seidel, Huck Seed and assorted rounders. Some of his information is from research, the Harry S Truman story, for example. He doesn't glorify the game or the players and he doesn't make himself a hero or a disinterested non-combatant either. In fact, the real value of this book is in the portrait of Andy Bellin, bright, very well-off, one-time Vassar (!) boy, who embarrassed his family and himself by spending a good part of his youth worshiping Pocahontas. In this part-memoir, part-participatory journalistic endeavor, Andy makes amends and demonstrates to all who care that actually he wasted nothing and has nothing to be embarrassed about.
First of all, this is a poker book about real poker and real poker people, not the great geniuses of the game and not the low lifes hanging about--although there are a few of those--but about the fanatics, the degenerates, the semi- and sometime- pros who play like addicts or devotees of a bizarre and unforgiving religion. ("Pocahontas" is the player's goddess of poker.) Second, Bellin reveals himself blemishes and all, admitting that he sometimes cheated and got caught, that he spent some time in jail, that he wasn't as good as he thought he was, and that, like most of us, he fooled himself a whole lot. All this makes for a most interesting and disarming read.
The chapter on cheating in which we see that the cheater need only cheat once or twice a night to ensure being a consistent winner, is excellent. The chapter entitled "Small-Time Pros" in which Bellin focuses on a man and women "combine" who worked the clubs in Los Angeles a few years ago (actually they played at the Hollywood Park Club, I can tell by some of the information Bellin gives; in fact I think I played against them!), we learn of the trashy glitter of sex, drugs and pocket rockets, or how to be wasted, and waste your life while you're at it. I also liked his seemingly gratuitous "idiot jail story" in Appendix A.
By the time we get to the second-to-last chapter and get to see the other guy's hole cards we realize Bellin's point and why he slow-rolled the show down (but don't EVER do it again, Andy!). What he wants to demonstrate is that the quintessential thrill of poker lies in that second or two or three between the time you've made the final bet and the time you get to see the other guy's cards.
Andy Bellin understands the psychology of playing poker and the lifestyle. He knows what going on tilt is all about, and proves it by showing himself on tilt on page 132 as his jacks-full get cracked by quads. And he understands what money means to the player. It means being in action, first and foremost because being out of action is the player's death. And he recognizes that even winning poker players usually end up broke. And he knows why.
--Dennis Littrell, author of the mystery novel, “Teddy and Teri”