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Poker Champ or Poker Chump

There is a fine line between hero and goat in this game. The qualities required to earn either of these disparate titles are the same: dedication, determination, a single-minded drive to win at any cost, and just plain ‘balls.’ The application and context of these attributes, combined with no small amount of luck or stupidity, delineates the final verdict. And remember, a ‘Poker Champ’ isn’t always a winner and ‘Chumpsville’ isn’t totally occupied by losers.

Last night’s game offered 3 unique ‘case studies’ of this theory. A careful analysis of their individual actions reveals the convoluted trail of the decisions and behavior, good and bad, that lead to the distinctions Poker Champ or Poker Chump.

Edict:
Few would doubt Edict’s dedication to our game. There could be no better demonstration of that fact than last night when he chose to play poker with us instead of being with his wife, on his 2^nd wedding anniversary. In fact, he insisted on playing longer when the game broke up a bit early. Without reading into this behavior too much, I’d say he’s a champ: a real hard-core poker hero.

But, on closer inspection, he manifests some clear signs of chumpy-ness. He arrived late, as usual, by almost an hour. No wonder he wanted to keep the action going, by 11:30 he’d only played a few hands. Edict also tends to play a game that he calls ‘Cincinnati’ (more commonly known as ‘Bingo’) which is clearly a non-poker game. And he whined incessantly. As a matter of fact, he’s been whining for months. The reality is that if he really wanted to get more poker action, he should have showed up on time and complained less.
Verdict: Poker Chump.

Chowhound:
Now here’s a player. First, he flew in from France that same day, called me up to remind me not to forget to order food for him (he is the Chowhound after all,) showed up early, drank heavily, told a great story about how he got thrown out of Hebrew school, played at full tilt all night and went home a winner.

Chowhound rarely misses a game and he certainly wouldn’t let a transcontinental flight or a week of heavy cream-sauces get between him, his poker, and his Peruvian chicken, which, by the way, he ate entirely.
Verdict: Poker Champ.

Dano:
An interesting case: Dano, continuing his kamikaze betting strategy, beat his previous record by reaching the $50 loser level in 80 minutes of play. At this point we all expected our favorite squirrel to gather up his remaining nuts and hibernate for the night in Chumpdom.

But instead, he kept his betting pinned to the redlined, raising and re-raising $2 every round. Dano returned to respectability with his best outing in months, a mere $20 loss for the night. He played with the kind of dogged intestinal fortitude that makes even the stupidest play ok in my book. Dano also put his plate in the dishwasher, walked out the door smiling, and so I hear, slugged Hank in the car on the ride home.
Verdict: Poker Champ.

Now, granted I’m a bit biased. I hosted and gave some extra points to Dano for putting his plate away. But the point of this exercise is to expose a glimpse into the complexities of our little game. Being a competitive game by definition, there’s usually a new hero or goat just about every week. An ever-shifting demarcation line blown hither and thither by the fickle winds of luck and stupidness. Regardless of who lands on which side of that line, every player deserves a bit of credit simply for showing up and putting their balls, cash, and now thanks to this website, their very dignity on the line every Tuesday night.