Part Three: On the Edge of the World of Professional Poker

Bro Love and a Tournament in the Bahamas

Recently, there was an important poker series in the Bahamas.  My best friend and his other poker people didn't go for various, boring reasons.  His boss, El Hefe, did go, and entered into a $25,000 buy in tournament.

That's $25,000 American dollars to play in this tournament.  Should he make it at least to the final table, he'd probably cash for maybe a million or more.  So, it rather makes entering worth it, if you have the money.

The tournament was being broadcast on Youtube, and my best friend and his friends watched El Hefe play.  The three were chatting in a group text, and occasionally they chatted with El Hefe.  (Texting between hands is not only common, some casinos install outlets in their poker tables so players can charge.)  The field of players dwindled.  Many solid professionals busted, and with each bust, the better it was for El Hefe: the field became less difficult.  El Hefe remained with a strong stack. 

​Then there were less than twenty players, and everything changed.

My best friend and his friends began planning an impromptu trip to the Bahamas.  They were ready to buy airline tickets the moment they had confirmation that El Hefe made it to the final table.  

This wasn't a trip used as an excuse to go to the Bahamas.  This was only for El Hefe.  The plan was fly out at midnight the next day, land in the Bahamas in the afternoon.  Make it in time to watch the final table, sleep on El Hefe's hotel room floor that night, and then fly out in the morning and return to Vegas.

That is one of the most awful trips I could imagine.  But they were serious.

My best friend put off a tournament at the Venetian, because if he made it through to the second day he wouldn't be able to go to the Bahamas.  

I've done theater for years.  I know many theater people.  I've seen families fly out for shows their kids are in.  I myself have driven hundreds of miles to see Endgame or Henry IV Part One.  But I've never seen anyone do what these three poker misfits were planning.  

They weren't doing it to make points with El Hefe.  They weren't looking for approval.  They cared.  They wanted to support him.  It was the most fucking adorable bro-love I have ever seen.

It shocked me because poker is so competitive and centered in money.  A lot of money.  These guys could end up playing against one another in a tournament. 

My own competitiveness is a history of childishness: of sweeping chess pieces onto the floor or flipping a Monopoly board (at 18, I banned myself from playing Monopoly again).  I do not possess the maturity and self esteem to handle a competitive environment and lose gracefully.

But they can.  The poker misfits are professionals.  They knew that their surprise visit to the final table to support El Hefe, to cheer him on as he busts people or makes it through an all-in, was part of what the poker community is.  Gambling and competition is a job.  It has its time and place.

Unfortunately, El Hefe didn't make the final table.  And though he did make $75,000ish, it didn't faze him much.  One night, my best friend texted me to say El Hefe, while playing cash (the chips on the table represent real money), made $500,000.  

So swings the poker pendulum.