A gambling man

Getting in on the act

The phone message had been brief and to the point. “Show up by 10 pm; bring lots of cash and your A Game. This is a card game for big boys with cojones. Minimum entry requirement £100,000. Be there or be somewhere else. And be lucky.”

I was intrigued. After all, I played a bit of poker in my youth and had kept my hand in over the years. And I wasn’t bad either: I worked on the basis that statistically a good hand always came around once in a while and the trick was not to lose too much on the bad ones. Of course, I had never played for anything like these stakes and I didn’t have £100,000 to splash around. But I knew people who knew people, and could probably get hold of the cash. I reckoned I could win enough to pay them back with a bit of interest. The thought of losing never entered my head. Probably just as well: The folks putting up the money would not hesitate to make life difficult if I didn’t pay them back.

The motley crew

So it was that I arrived at the flat in the backstreets of Westminster at 9.55 pm, carrying an anonymous looking bag containing 100 grand. After confirming my identity, I handed the money over in exchange for gambling chips and entered the room where the event was to take place. I was the last to arrive and my opponents were already seated around the table. The dealer was a Frenchman called Michel and unusually he insisted that all players identify themselves before play commenced. Immediately to the dealer’s left was Dave, a pink-cheeked well-spoken gentleman who said with typical understatement that he liked a flutter. To his left sat Bozo, a journalist who worked – in his words – “for the gutter press.” Going further round the table, DD was a hard-bitten used car salesman from the East End of London, whilst Jake was a languid city banker whose cut-glass accent made him sound like a pantomime villain. The circle was completed by Nige, a gentleman of no fixed occupation who seemed very fond of alcohol and the only woman present, Tessa, who it transpired, was a geography teacher.

Michel brought proceedings to order by announcing we were to play seven card stud: The initial hand would consist of two cards face down and one face up with a minimum bet of £100. “Good luck everyone,” he said as play commenced. As is usual in any poker game, the first few rounds consisted of checking out the strength of the opposition and assessing their tactics. After a couple of hours things were starting to take shape. Dave was an impulsive player, who took some big risks but generally was looking good and had significantly increased his pot over and above his initial stake. Bozo, Jake and DD played safe, exploiting opportunities as they opened up and making small gains as a result. Nige was pretty hopeless, having funded most of Dave’s gains, whilst Tessa clearly tended to fold under pressure by avoiding entering into a bidding war when the stakes were raised. I was breaking even and bided my time, content to see how things panned out. 

Sorting the men (and women) from the boys

Shortly before 1 am, the first significant move took place. Dave had a full hand of seven cards, with a pair of nines; a ten and a Queen face up on the table and three in his hand. He was betting heavily. Bozo’s two Queens, a Jack and a King looked strong to me and I dropped out of the betting, as everyone else did soon afterwards. But Dave kept raising the stakes until the pot stood at £75,000. Finally, Dave called Bozo’s hand: Three Queens and two Kings versus Dave’s three nines and assorted rubbish. Bozo’s three of a kind plus a pair was stronger than Dave’s three of a kind. All his gains from the night were gone and his cash reserve was below his initial stake. This need not have been a problem if he had played judiciously, but after a small loss in the next hand, Dave went for broke again and this time was wiped out by a concerted effort from Bozo, DD and Jake. “Thanks for the game chaps. No hard feelings.” said Dave as he left the room.

“Probably going back to the family estate,” grunted DD after Dave had gone. “Now we can really play.” Nige was the next to fold. He had played dreadfully all night and was clearly out of his depth. I was just about hanging on as Bozo, DD and Jake really piled on the pressure, winning hand after hand. After having initially appeared to be playing as a team, it was obvious the threesome were now competing against each other, which allowed Tessa and me to stay in the game. As the hours ticked by, it was evident that Bozo bluffed more than was good for a decent card player and we were reeling him in. Tessa’s caution was paying off and after a few more hands, Bozo was clearly losing a lot of cash. Surprisingly, it was DD who folded first. Tessa had played him well, allowing him little wins in some hands but generally taking more off him in others. He was far from bust but his pile of chips was worth far less than his initial £100k, and he had evidently decided that enough was enough. A flushed and apparently panicked Bozo dropped out soon after.

A losing streak

So it was down to Jake, Tessa and me. Jake was a good player. He took calculated risks but didn’t give much ground, and he was an excellent bluffer. But I was confident and told myself that you just have to trust the numbers: the good hand always arrives eventually. Jake also had a weakness: He occasionally – just occasionally – pursued a doomed cause, which left him vulnerable. Six hours in, and we were all feeling pretty tired. At this point, Jake’s face-up cards were showing two tens and two nines. Two pairs – a pretty strong position. Tessa had nothing on show. Nor, on the face of it, did I. Queen of spades, 10 of spades, 8 of clubs and a four of hearts. But I had three cards that Jake could not see.

I had been fairly cautious all night, so when I called Jake’s hand and raised another 100 he must have thought I was bluffing. Tessa immediately dropped out whilst Jake responded by raising the call by a further 200, which I countered by raising him another 500. In a bid to test my mettle, he raised by 1000. I appeared to hesitate to give the impression that I was reluctant to bid. In reality I was anything but, and raised the call by 5000 which Jake promptly doubled. He had a good hand, but I trusted in what I knew and doubled his call. Jake didn’t like losing, especially to an oik like me. So he promptly raised the pot by 50,000. I gasped. Surely he was not going to be that stupid. But I raised to 100,000 and awaited his response. Jake tossed five 20k chips into the pot and drawled “call.”

I turned over my three hidden cards one at a time. First the Jack of spades followed by the King of spades. Jake blanched: He knew what was coming next. And sure enough, it was the Ace of spades – the death card. I had a straight whereas the best Jake could manage was three nines and a pair of tens. He was so fixated on the strength of his own cards that he had failed to see that others might have a stronger hand, and was wiped out as a result.

At that point, Tessa remarked that she was also done for the night and although she had expended a considerable amount of her initial capital, she was smiling broadly as she departed into the darkness of a cold early morning.

“Well done, my friend” said Michel who had played an important but low-key role throughout the night. As I cashed in my chips, I turned to Michel and said “I believe this is yours,” handing him £100,000 in cash. “A great pleasure to do business with you,” he replied. “You are not merely a gambler. You calculate the odds and act accordingly and I always knew we would get our stake money back. Now if you are interested, I have some friends in Washington DC who are keen on a high stakes game in the US. Here is the number. Just ask for Don.”