Columnist's wife hopes he becomes a loser

As with most of my life's more eccentric endeavors, I had expected my wife Beverly to muster up her usual positive attitude. In the past when I've thought up some bizarre get-rich-quick scheme or wanted some off-the-wall job, she's always been supportive, and I thought that this time would be the same.

But I was wrong. When I told her about my new interest, I was met with a shocking wave of negativity.

Who would have thought that wanting to play in a charity poker tournament at the Silverthorne Pavilion would have caused so much trouble?

"I hope you lose," she said.

"What," I said suddenly taken so far aback that I splashed my morning cup of coffee on my favorite footie pajamas.

"Don't get me wrong," she said. "I hope you go and have a good time. I want you to enjoy the dinner, meet some nice people and play for a little while. But then I hope you lose. I hope you get stomped into the ground."

Needless to say, my mouth opened and shut repeatedly before my jaw finally dropped a total of 6 inches out of sheer devastation at my wife's unkind words.

How could this be, I thought. After all isn't this the same woman who supported my street performing days? Isn't this the same brave female that still deals with, on a monthly basis, the lasting financial effects of my beach bum years?

"Why?" I gasped. "Why would you wish such a terrible thing on your sweet, loving husband?"

"Because," she said, "the worst thing that can happen is if you win. If you bring home any money you'll get hooked, and I'll spend the rest of my life waiting for you outside of poker rooms."

Ridiculous, I thought. I didn't get hooked into any of the other crazy things I've done so why would this be any different? I didn't become a bull rider, did I? I don't have an addictive personality, and besides, all I wanted to do is try my hand playing against real people instead of a computer, and I wasn't about to let my wife get in the way.

It is at moments like these - especially when my spouse is gathering up enough gravity to put her proverbial foot down hard - that I pull out my two favorite tactics in getting what I want. I play either the guilt or the blame card.

In this special case, however, I flopped both.

"Well," I said starting off with a dose of blame. "You're the one that bought me that handheld Texas Hold'em computer game for Christmas, and now you're upset that I want to play in a real tournament? Gosh, I guess you should never have put it in my stocking."

And before she could respond I switched immediately over to guilt.

"Besides," I taunted, "when you compare the amount of money I've spent on poker to what you've spent on your Creative Memories scrapbooking obsession, well, I'm farther behind than a camel running in the Indianapolis 500."

Of course, my wife denied having any kind of a scrapbooking addiction, but we both knew that there have been more than a few nights when she's stumbled home after a crop - that's what scrapbookers call their meetings - with eyes glazed over while still clutching the latest photo album or sheets of stickers to her breast.

Then I reminded her that when it comes down to it I don't like to gamble. Even when I worked for the casinos I was never one to spend my hard-earned cash at the tables.

Which might seem strange since I like playing poker. But if you know anything about No-limit Texas Hold'em, you'd understand that it's not a typical game.

Playing No-limit Hold'em is an art form. It combines the perfect portions of both luck and skill. It calls for bluff, street smarts, math aptitude and sheer nerve, and by combining all three, a player can experience the incredible rush that comes from pushing a million dollars worth of chips into the center of the table and declaring "All in."

So, is there any question as to why I signed up for the Hold'em tournament?

Eventually, Beverly gave her OK to my venture into the poker world, though I'm beginning to believe that it had less to do with my happiness and more to do with that fact the money goes to the Summit County Rotary.

And as for anyone else, if there are readers out there thinking high-stakes poker for charity would make a fun Saturday night out, call (970) 668-8880 or (888) 499-4499 for more information. Better yet, check out the story on page A8.

Trust me, once you rake in that first pot you'll be hooked.

Of course it better not be my chips you're stacking into tidy columns.



Andrew Gmerek writes a Friday column. He can be reached at agmerek@hotmail.com.