Poker News

Hold’em JApan: A Joe and Hobby Fisction

Hobby and I met for lunch at Marlow’s, an upscale seafood place in West L.A. Since it was my turn to buy, Hobby picked this place so I wouldn’t get off lightly.

“A drink before lunch?”

an effervescent waitress asked.

“Golden margarita,” Hobby answered. I might usually go for the same, but I wanted something lighter.

“I’ll have a Captain Morgan spicy rum and tonic, please.” I replied.

“What’s that, Joe?” “It’s a little different; it suits me today.”

“I’ll try one, too. Skip the margarita.”

Hobby wrestled a wad of papers from the back pocket of his jeans and spread them on the table. I expected an explanation, but he was intently reading, so I waited him out.

The way he was shaking his head I gathered it was interesting.

Apparently finished, he folded the papers, smiled at me and said, “You probably wouldn’t be interested, Joe.”

Having known him for over twenty years, I did the translation. “What you really mean is, you want me to be interested.”

“Well…” he tried to appear indifferent, but it was too big a part for him to play. Suddenly he beamed with his 1000 watt smile and said, “Joe, this is really hot!”

“You’ve got my attention.”

We were interrupted by the girl delivering our drinks.

“Hmm,” Hobby said after taking a sip. “Not bad.” “Perfecto,” I agreed. “So, what have you got?”.

“Joe, I just know you’re going to love this. Remember, about a year ago I went to Japan for a martial arts competition?”

I nodded a yes. “Well I’ve been swapping emails with Sugi Yamamoto who was my host. Sugi’s a great guy, about our age, his family is somehow tied into Toyota and he’s loaded.

“Like how loaded? Like you?”

“Oh, I think much more. But that doesn’t matter. What’s important is that I got him interested in Texas Hold ‘Em while I was there. It was just beginning to catch on from the internet and was played in a few private clubs in Tokyo, although I think that kind of public gambling is illegal there. Anyway, I coached him and we went to one of his private poker clubs where we both cleaned up.

These guys were all super rich and didn’t hardly know a straight from a flush, but they loved to gamble. If I hadn’t come home I’d probably own Japan by now.”

“I think you told me something about that before, so what’s up now?”

“Sugi has organized a hold ‘em tournament and has invited me. They’ll hold satellite events in about a dozen private clubs and the top winners will go on a gambling cruise ship for the finals. He offered me, and a companion of my choice, two free seats in a satellite- which go for a million yen each. Want to go?”

“Wouldn’t you rather take your girlfriend?”

“Can’t, it’s strictly a men’s thing there.”

“The last of the chauvinists, I guess. What’s a million yen worth?”

“It’s about ten grand,” “Really, that’s quite an incentive.”

“It’s peanuts compared to what I helped him win. Of course, we’ll have to make it into the finals on our own to qualify for the cruise tournament, but we should have the edge over most of them.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it. I still can’t get used to today’s college kids competing with the pros. People have learned fast on the internet.”

“Nah, not a problem there. Are you with me Joe? Do we go to Tokyo?”

“Absolutely. It’s been many years since I spent a couple weeks there on R&R. I can’t wait to see the place again.”

I’m not good on long flights. I’ve tried heavy drinking; I’ve tried abstaining; I’ve tried sleeping pills-only to be in a fog the next day-and nothing works for me. Except for a few cat naps and the occasional food service, I fidgeted for twelve hours.

Wouldn’t you know though, Hobby slept peacefully most of the time. We flew into Narita airport, which is about 50 miles north of Tokyo. After passing through customs we saw a large sign with the familiar name, “Hobby Newton.”

Sugi and Hobby did a quick ceremonial bows and shook hands, both grinning and talking simultaneously.

“How do you do, Crestsan?” Sugi said to me after breaking away from Hobby. “How do you do, Yamamoto-san,” I replied as I executed a simple bow. “Ah, you are familiar with Japanese customs?”

“Somewhat, I was here many years ago, but please call me Joe.”

“Okay, Joe. You call me Sugi.”

His driver carried our bags but left them with us at the curb while he went for the car. It was a luxurious black sedan, well appointed, but not one I recognized. “Nice car,” I said. “I’ve never seen one quite like it.”

“Yes,” Sugi replied. “This is executive domestic model only.”

It was about as quiet inside as Hobby’s Rolls and before I knew it, I was sound asleep.

“Hey, Joe” Hobby said as he gave me a poke. “We’re at the hotel.”

For a moment I had even forgotten we were in Japan. “This is Imperial Hotel,” Sugi said. “Not the fanciest, but one of our finest. Only the best for my friends.” It was a bit austere looking, but bellmen were quick to handle the luggage and when we got inside an older Japanese man, in what might pass for formal attire greeted us with deep bows.

He had our room keys in hand; there was no signing in, apparently all arranged by Sugi. We were taken to a two-bedroom suite facing the northwest.

“Where you see the water, that is the moat around the Imperial Palace grounds,” Sugi explained. “Across the street, you cannot see from here, is the Dai Ichi Insurance Company Building where General MacArthur had his headquarters.”

I was impressed, but not in the mood for sightseeing. Though it was early afternoon, my body was telling me it was nap time again.

I was relieved when Sugi said, “Why don’t you rest. I will pick you up at seven for dinner.”

Later, when Sugi picked us up, he spoke to men in the car behind us. When we drove off they followed.

Hobby asked, “Why are those men following us?” “Do not worry, they are security,” Sugi answered.

“I don’t get it,” Hobby said. “I thought Japan was a very peaceful place.”

“Indeed it is, but there are some who have threatened to disrupt our tournament unless I pay a largefee.”

“Sounds like gangster’s protection racket,” I said.

“Yes, unfortunately, but we can handle them.”

Suddenly we heard a crash. I looked around to see our trail car was disabled. “Hyaku (fast),” Sugi said to the driver. Moments later a large truck sideswiped us and sent us crashing into a storefront.

(To be continued next issue)

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