Poker News

Poker RX: A Joe & Hobby fiction

I hit a wall, a figurative wall, that is. I’m a writer on a deadline, but my story’s not coming together. At times like this, it doesn’t pay to press. A little diversion might help. I’ll call Hobby.

“Hi, Joe. What’s up?” “Nothing. What are you doing?”

“I’m going to a hospital. Do you want to come?”

“What’s wrong, Hobby?”

“Nothing with me. You know Kim, she works at the VA. One of her patients is a Desert Storm vet who’s in bad shape. He lost an arm and a leg and now has a serious kidney ailment. He’s quite depressed, but he told Kim he likes poker, so she asked me to come over and play a few hands with him. You wanna come?”

“Sure. I need a break.” The ex-GI was only 24, but looked much older. Kim introduced us: “Billy, this is Hobby and Joe, friends of mine. They’re famous poker players.”

“Oh, sure,” I chuckled.

He showed a small smile and said “I used to enjoy poker, but I can’t handle the cards now.”

Hobby asked, “When’s the last time you played?”

“It was over there,” Billy said with a vague look, “105 degrees in a pit dug out under a tank. It was just before long the land mine got me.” He closed his eyes and knitted his brow, we waited not knowing what tosay. When he opened them he gave us a hard stare and said, “You guys been in the service?”

“Nam,” I answered.

“Wounded?”

“Yeah, nothing too serious though.”

He vented a gusty sigh and said, “Well that’s enough of that. Let’s talk about poker. I’ve been watching tournaments on TV,” he said as he gestured with his chin toward the wall hung set, “that Texas Hold ‘Em looks like fun.”

“It’s our favorite game,” I replied. I went on to tell Billy about the tournaments we played and how we decided to find obscure hot players who we sponsored as the Third Eye team. I could tell from the look on his face he was interested, but I wanted to put him back into the conversation. “Would you like to play a bit of hold ‘em? I’ve brought some cards.”

“Yeah, I’d like to learn the game.”

Kim set up a lap table and Hobby and I positioned ourselves on either side of his bed. Hobby broke open the deck, pulled the jokers, and put on a dazzling shuffle demonstration. Billy watched, all agog. I’ve seen Hobby do his tricks before, but even I was impressed.

“That’s wonderful,” Billy said. “You’ll have to teach me.”

Hobby gave me a strained look. I didn’t know what to say. The silence hung heavily as I pictured this one arm guy trying to shuffle cards. Suddenly a billowing laugh came from Billy.

“Loosen up guys. That’s just a bit of amputee humor.”

We both relaxed and I thought, “Maybe that’s a good sign for someone who’s been depressed.”

“You sure got me, Billy,” Hobby said with his disarming grin. “But anyway, you don’t have to be clever with your hands to play poker. It’s what’s up here,” he said as he pointed to his noggin.

To which I added, “And you don’t need a whole lot of that, for which Hobby is living proof.”

“That’s enough out of you, Joe,” Hobby replied with feigned seriousness, “let’s play poker.”

I counted out 100 chips for each of us. Billy asked, “What’s a chip worth?”

“It’s up to you, Billy,” I answered.

He thought about it and said with a smile, “How about ten cents each. I think I can handle that to learn poker from a couple of sharpees.”

Hobby and I previously discussed a bit of strategy-to let him win without it looking too obvious. After a few hands, we could see that Billy really understood the game. About an hour later he had cleaned us out and it was time to go. “Hey, that was fun,” Billy said. “I know you guys were holding back, but even so I felt like I did pretty good.”

“Billy, you were very good,” Hobby said. “If we put our team together again we’ll come looking for you.”

We coughed up our $10 bills and bid our goodbyes. Billy waved the money using his solitary arm and said, “Come back anytime.”

As we were walking out of the hospital, I said to Hobby. “We left him smiling.”

“That was great, wasn’t it?’ he replied.

“It gives me a good feeling,” I added. “But tell me truthfully, were you tanking many hands?”

“I did in the beginning, but then I couldn’t seem to get the better of him. How ’bout you, Joe?”

“I had the same experience. I think he’s a hell of a poker player. Did you notice how savvy he is? I tried playing to win, but I felt he was reading me like a book.”

“I agree, Joe. I don’t think it was a fluke or the fall of the cards. Billy’s a natural poker genius.”

“You may be right, Hobby. Maybe we can help put his talent to use.”

We talked to Kim, to one of his doctors, and Billy’s mother. We learned his kidneys were not responding to treatment and may have to be removed. If it was a matter of money, Hobby was ready to pitch in, but we were told there was nothing more that could be done. “Well, there’s something we can do,” Hobby volunteered. “We can bring some joy to Billy’s life.” A few days later after clearing it with the family and doctors, we showed up in Billy’s room.

“Got a present for you, Billy.” Hobby unveiled a laptop computer which was equipped with wireless internet service. He had already downloaded a popular poker software. Billy was not aware of on-line poker and got very excited when we showed what he could do.

“Connect whenever you feel like it, 24/7. You can start with play money to get used to it, but Hobby and I have set up a cash account of $500 for you. The deal is, if you win some money you can pay us back.” He was brimming over with excitement when we left.

Hobby’s girlfriend Kim gave us a running account of Billy’s progress. He was playing poker many hours every day. A couple weeks later he asked to see us. We were stunned at the change in his appearance, darned if he didn’t look a whole lot better. He said, “I’ve got a surprise for you,” and handed Hobby a bank check for $3,000.

“What’s this for?” Hobby asked.

“I figure that should cover the cost of the computer and the cash advance you gave me.”

“Oh, no. You don’t have to do that, it was a gift,” Hobby replied. “Please. Take it. You don’t know how good it makes me feel to be able to pay my way. Let me show you something else.” He connected to the poker site cashier.

“Look, Joe. His balance is $13,000.”

“Wow!” I said. “We better start taking lessons from you, Billy!”

We visited Billy every few weeks. He continued to increase his bankroll. More important he seemed to be looking better all the time. Kim told us they were taking him off dialysis, his kidneys were functioning normally and he would soon be going home.

“Well Hobby,” I ventured, “Maybe we have uncovered another side of poker-remedial medicine. Write to author David Valley at: dvalley1@san.rr.com

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