One week into the World Series of Poker, I’m already counting down the days until next year.
“Next year, Noah.”
I used to tell myself this lie every summer.
I’m 38 years old.
I have been around the block a time or two.
I’ve played poker for almost as long as I have been an adult.
I first learned the game of poker a month or so before I turned 21.
One lonely Friday night I went to hang out with my friend Matthew, whom I learned was having a poker night.
I didn’t know he played poker.
Heck, I didn’t even know how to play poker.
Beginner’s luck is a real thing.
I won that first night I played.
I was hooked.
For the rest of 2005, I played poker every Friday night at my friend’s house.
Eventually though, I hit a wall. I wasn’t winning, or losing, much to write home about.
By the start of 2006, I was introduced to online poker.
Televised poker games followed. And then other media.
Pokerstars. Ultimate Bet. Full Tilt. Party Poker.
Travel Channel. Bravo. ESPN.
Cardplayer. Bluff. Poker Pro.
DVDs. Books. Internet forums.
I dove right in.
By 2007 I was a winning online player.
I had traveled the state of Wisconsin, playing any game I could find.
I was in two separate poker leagues.
I made money. I reached final tables. I took thirds. Seconds.
Never first. Online, yes. Many times over.
Live, no.
I had to wait until the year 2008.
It was so three thousand and late, but I made it.
All it took was the ever-so-ironic Ace on the river.
I did it.
I had won a live, structured, multi-table poker tournament.
To the bracelet winners this year, I see you.
Next year, Noah. Next year.
Life, Death, and Everything in Between. 