Dark sunglasses hide his eyes. He has a mustache and a goatee. Viktor has a suit pocket yellow handkerchief and a white rose bud boutonnière. He goes by nick, with an italic lowercase ‘n’ to make the name look as though it has been nicked. It is also short for nickname. He has people guessing, keeping the double pun to himself. Not only does he look incongruous at a poker tournament, nobody recognized him. But he gets what he wants: attention and mystery.
He looks for Andea. Although her name is not on the participants’ list, his legal name isn’t either. She may be there incognito.
The previous year he was caught off guard after the first round by The River, the famous old timer:
“You’re new here.”
“Yeah!”
“You play well.”
“Thank you!”
“But, like most players, you’re missing a key part of the game.”
“Oh! Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“And what’s that?”
“You’ll have to respect me, first. You’re too self-confident. See you around.”
That was Viktor’s first lesson from a pro gambler. He wasn’t sure it wasn’t bluff on his part, a way to throw him off balance. Viktor knew that little bit of doubt the old man had planted in him could cost him dearly. Poker is a game of probabilities. He knew them all, no matter what the hand, without effort. The old man had noticed. That’s why he had talked to him. It wasn’t because of his tie-dyed bandana with an explosion of yellow and white expertly placed at the level of his third eye. And it’s a game of self projection. Any doubt can weaken one’s act.
Viktor had trouble sleeping that night. He thought about his response to the old man in order to reestablish the confidence balance between them. In the end, he decided to ignore him and let his game speak for itself. Don’t let yourself be intimidated, he told himself, breathing more freely and feeling himself smiling inside.
But The River had gotten the better of him and he could not help but think about what he could be missing from the game.
This year, he wants the upper hand. He perfected his act, as nick, and his effect. He is ready. But Andea’s absence affects him. He can’t shake it off. They were going to keep in touch after the previous year’s tournament. He must have called her five or six times in the beginning and one more time just prior to this tournament, but she never returned his calls. He’d looked her up at other poker venues. A talent like hers would show up again. But she didn’t.
He ordered a burrito for dinner that previous year and, while taking a stroll, had a sudden revelation about the old man’s poke. What if the old man was right? he thought, it would make the game quite exciting if it still held a secret from him. He slept much better that night.
As a player, he observed other players and kept track of their words and body language. He looked for changes: the way they held their cards and played absent mindedly with their chips, their facial expressions, the expression in their eyes, and the words they chose, especially what came through unconsciously. He acted the part he wanted other players to believe. It was all about observing and about delivery. He loved surprising people by handing them some of their own medicine.
In addition, he planned to observe himself observing, from an objective perspective, all seeing and unattached to outcome. It took a mental juggling act to be present to the two levels of observing at the same time. He could imagine it, but he was not able to do both simultaneously. As a result, he made obvious mistakes.
He got to the next round by reverting back to his usual play.
~ ~ ~
Round one, nick is called to the table next that of the old man. The River ignores him completely.
nick knows his act and he plays it to perfection. His suit is flashy, yet he plays conservatively. Even though he has the same probability figures and the same knowledge of combinations as the previous year, he does not play his chips the same way. That’s his genius. He’s not predictable. And no one recognizes him.
~ ~ ~
A year earlier, after he wasn’t able to play both levels of observing at the same time, he went for a stroll and replayed every single game of the day in his mind. He could then distance himself from the playing and be the objective observer he’d imagined.
Those who had not made it to the next round, and some who had, were carousing oblivious to the mysterious secret of the game Viktor was studying. The old man was either right, most players missed a key part of the game, or … there was nothing to be missed.
Dismissing that last thought, he went back to his objective observer. He thought of beginners and their notorious luck. Beginners are known to do well on the whole at any game, at least the very first time they play. Could he access a beginner’s kind of luck as a professional player? He had never tried. It was a part of the game he had missed. Was it a key part? Was it possible to play with a beginner’s mind as well as with all his calculating knowledge? And was it possible to do that in professional games?
“Do you think all the time?”
The question came from a young woman, suddenly at his side.
“I like thinking?” he said, “What are you doing here?”
“Same as you.”
“Are you in the tournament too?”
“Yes! But people talk about you, not about me.”
“It’s my first time. They pay attention to new players who survive a few rounds.”
“It’s my first time too.”
“How have you been able to pass under the radar screen?”
“I play dumb. It’s probably easier for a woman than for a man.”
“You play dumb?”
“I act like I’m lucky, not like I’m smart. You see this copper bracelet. I wear it all the time, like you wear your bandana. The difference is you draw attention to your mind, I let people believe I use my bracelet as my lucky charm.”
“Why are you showing your cards to me?”
“I don’t expect to go as far as you will.”
Viktor laughed. “You’re playing dumb with me too!”
“So what were you thinking so deeply about?”
“You give me something and you want something back, right?”
“You don’t trust people, do you?”
“I’ve done well alone.”
“I can leave you alone.”
“What brought you to tournament poker?”
“My dad. He always wanted to be a pro but never did. I watched him play and learned from him. When he passed away, I decided to take the chance he never took. What about you?”
“I love the game. I love studying people, the games they play. Life is a lot like poker. People bluff and play games all the time. It was like that at home when I was a kid. I had to learn to read people early on to survive.”
“Awww!”
“What’s your name?”
“Andea.”
They walked some more. They wished each other good luck. He’d never looked at someone else at a tournament as a friend. He studied and read everyone. He was good at that. Could he be friends with Andea and be able to read her when playing against each other?
~ ~ ~
nick is courted at the end of the day. He says is in a happy relationship, even though it is one he lives in his mind with Andea. A woman with heavy make up, extra long eyelashes, and big stiff hair, probably a wig, approaches his table. Her short dress reaches her mid thighs and she holds the bottom part with her hands as she sits down. Glancing at him, she asks if he minds, but turns immediately to the waiter, who followed her, and orders a buffalo burger and a house salad.
“Thanks,” she whispers, looking at nick, “I am avoiding men.”
“And you sit with me?’
“I saw you refuse flirtatious advances. You wouldn’t believe how many men ask me out and keep asking even if I tell them I am not interested.”
“Are you in the tournament?”
“Yes. I am Sara. You’re Nick, right?”
“nick …” he corrects, wanting to explain how to spell it, but chooses not to. He feels earnest, perhaps in response to the fake everything about her.
“You’re good at reading people.”
“You can tell?”
“You should have met Viktor! He was the best. He won last year.”
“You were here last year?” nick does not remember seeing her then.
“You should have seen him the final day!”
“What happened?”
“He was playing ten other players. He played low bets to start and got out of each hand early letting others compete like sharks. It was like the whole game was a set up where he had no play for a while leading everyone around him to believe he wasn’t lucky. Then he caught everyone unawares. I saw it on TV later and he actually had several good hands from the start, but did not bet on them, baffling the commentators. Had he bet on them though, he would have lost. Before long they were three left: The River, a girl, I can’t recall her name, and Viktor. At some point, she made a gutsy move and beat The River at his own game, on the river, by going all in. That put her in the lead. Viktor played cool and got the perfect cards after that.”
“How did that make him good at reading people?”
“It was the perfect plan for the people he was competing with. I wonder why he isn’t here this year.” She grabs her purse, picks an e-cigarette, which she lipprints with red lipstick, and hails the waiter for a drink, all at the same time.
nick thanks her for the conversation, gets up as he wishes her good luck. He walks back to his hotel room.
Sara drew him back to the previous year. He had tried to play as a beginner, without expectations. Could he still win? His mind was distracted by the whereabouts of Andea. He suspected for a moment that she was a plant by the old man. He lost of couple of hands and brought himself back together by getting his mind into the game. He made it to the next round. Andea did too. They had dinner. Viktor wanted to open up to her. He started with: “Do you believe in beginner’s luck?”
“Yeah. I’ve seen it many times.”
“Can you tap into it at will?”
“I’m not a beginner any more.”
“Isn’t ‘playing dumb’ a way to pretend you are a beginner?”
“Maybe you figured me out.”
“I don’t mean it that way. That’s what I was thinking about the other night. How can I tap into beginner’s luck?”
“It’s the opposite of the way you play, right? You’re seriously studying your opponents whereas a beginner does not really pay attention to the other players and merely enjoys the moment.”
“How can one win by enjoying the moment and not know about the game?”
“I don’t know. You wanted to understand beginner’s luck.”
“I know.”
“You think too much!”
“How does beginner’s luck go away?”
“I think what happens is you stop being a beginner and you start being a player with experience. Then you can only get an experienced player’s luck.”
“Nobody talks about that.”
“… because, when you’re not a beginner, people think it’s about smarts and experience.”
“But that misses the idea of tapping into a beginner’s kind of luck. I think you have found a way to tap into it.”
She smiles. “Viktor?”
“What?”
“What’s your favorite movie?”
(to be continued)