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This Game of Ours, Chapter Ten

published on 12/03/08 at 3:13 pm

One of my favorite games to frequent at that time was a game back in the suburbs. It was held in a dining establishment after closing time and I had first played in it after I had moved out from Queens, at the age of 17. After my return from the military, it became my favorite place to play poker.

The establishment was a family run business, operated by three brothers with the help of their sister. The oldest brother and I became very close friends. I made it a point of dropping by there for the night at least twice a week. During the week they usually played a limit game ranging in levels from $5-10 to 40-80, good stakes for those days. On the weekend they held a no limit game that I could hit pretty hard.

It was a great environment to play in, and the camaraderie was even more enjoyable than the winnings. In fact, it was the first time in my life where I found emotion actually starting to affect my play. Whenever I found myself heads up with one of the brothers I caught myself intentionally slow playing a hand or even checking down with the nuts from time to time. It wasn’t a conscious decision to do so, it was an innate reaction. As good as it felt to win and outclass opponents, it didn’t feel as good to do so at the expense of a close friend.

Much to my surprise, they picked up on this rather quickly and immediately began to reciprocate. After a few months it turned into quite a gig as the three brothers and I basically ended up splitting all the winnings from anyone unfortunate enough to join us at the table. That’s not to say we were colluding, just that we always found enough other people to take money off without needing to put a hurt on each other. As the months went on, sessions in that game became a risk free and very profitable venture. Even better than that, I had the time of my life when I was there.

This was a very different poker-playing friendship to my childhood relationship with Joey, Mikey and the others. Whereas my friendships in Queens had been borne out of convenience and necessity, the relationship I enjoyed with these three brothers was purely an exercise of my own free agency. I didn’t need their money or their protection, and they didn’t need anything from me. I went to their restaurant only because it pleased me to do so, I spent time there only because I enjoyed it and I hung around with the brothers only because it was the best thing I could think of to do with my time. I expected nothing in return but their friendship and they became like the brothers I had never had.

But as much as I enjoyed my nights there, my initial arrival at the establishment every night was agonizing. Their younger sister Angelica was always the first person I saw as she let me in to the restaurant. And if looks could kill, I would have died a thousand deaths that year. The woman hated and despised me. The mere thought that I was coming there to hustle her brothers out of their hard earned dollars make her sick, as did the game of poker in general.

Like most Greek women, she knew what demented gamblers her countrymen could be. She had grown up hearing tales of those that had lost businesses, homes, even life and limb to gambling. She didn’t like it, and she didn’t like me as a result.

Every morning when she arrived at work the first thing she did was look for traces of cards and chips from the previous night’s game. If she found any, she would immediately discard them in the garbage. This of course did not impede our game one bit, as I always had a carton full of decks of cards in the trunk of my car. I was never without.

But every time I arrived at the restaurant, I chatted with Angelica. I quickly realized her bark was much worse than her bite. I began to enjoy our conversations more and more, getting a kick out of knowing my mere presence there was annoying her. I was rude and obnoxious to her and in return she was the most aggravating woman I had ever met in my life. It was fun.

I tease her about it now, but she made the fatal mistake of beginning by hating me. Once you get emotional, there’s a fine line between love and hate. I think she began to realize I was looking out for her brothers far more often than I was taking advantage of them. Valentine’s Day rolled round that year, so I decided to send her a bouquet of roses and offer to take her out to dinner that night after work.

She said yes and from that night on we were inseparable. We were never apart again as I continued to see her seven days a week. On poker nights I spent the mornings with her, and after days studying or working, I spent I would see her every evening. She worked hard in the family restaurant whenever she wasn’t with me.

Almost before I realized it, things began to get serious. And that didn’t please her brothers. After about a week without visiting the game, I was in the neighborhood and decided to pay the restaurant a visit. The reception was cold, to say the least.

“What do you think you’re doing with my sister?” were the first words out of her brother’s mouth.

I told him he had no need to worry. I would never do anything to disrespect her or her family; after all they felt like my family anyway. I told him my intentions were serious and that I wasn’t messing around with her.

But that didn’t make any difference. He wasn’t worried about my intentions, he took those for granted. He just didn’t think I was suitable.

“You know, she’s a very good girl and a wonderful person, he said. “She deserves better.”

I was shocked. I realized that there was some hypocrisy in this situation. I had been close friends with these three guys for almost a decade. I had played cards with them for hours on end. I was good enough to play with, good enough to drink with, even good enough to be considered a friend and be included in all family functions, but I certainly wasn’t good enough to marry their sister.

I realized that despite our friendship, the three of them viewed me as nothing more than an egotistical womanizing gambler. That was all I had ever been as far as they were concerned. I was disappointed and, somewhat heartbroken by this judgment, but I did not allow it to slow me down one bit. In fact, I began to pursue Angelica with a new found passion. After all, I knew who I was. I knew what she and I wanted and I remained convinced that in time her family would realize I was as good for her as she was for me. In fact, it took them nearly another decade to come around completely (a tough crowd).

Despite her brothers’ initial disapproval, Angelica and I were engaged within three weeks. And we married two months later. Getting married wasn’t a difficult decision. In fact, I’d say it was the best read I ever made. We had 3,000 years of heritage in common; it didn’t take long to catch up on the last 20 years. I hadn’t set out to look for a wife, but as soon as I got to know Angelica, it was obvious to me I had found the woman I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

But she would never be my only love. We had talked about many things during our engagement, but had never discussed why I played poker. I guess my new wife assumed it was just something I had done for entertainment, a bachelor’s amusement I would drop after our marriage. That, of course,
was far from the case.

After we returned from our honeymoon I took a couple of days to get settled in. On that first Friday night back home, I was getting ready to set out for a session of poker. My wife surprised me by interrupting my ritual and decided to intervene in my plans for the evening.

“Where are you going now?” she asked in a very obnoxious voice.

“Where I always go on Friday,” I replied.

“Yes, but now you are married.”

“What the hell does that have to do with anything?”

“Well, you are not planning on playing cards the way you used to before we got married, are you?” she asked, with a confused look on her face.

That annoyed me, so I was quite abrupt in my reply.

“Listen, first of all I don’t play cards, I play poker. Second of all, what the hell does being married have to do with playing poker?”

“That’s something you did when you were single, I won’t have it!” she shouted back.

We had clearly reached a key question in our marriage. I needed to find out how far she was willing to commit on this issue. As not playing was a non-starter, I needed to see where I stood. So I borrowed my tactics from the poker table and pushed all in.

“You are my wife, honey, and I love you very much, but poker always has been and always will be my only mistress. Don’t ask me to pick between the two of you, because you will lose!”

This was obviously not the answer she wanted to hear. Nor was she prepared to lay her hand down just yet. She began a 30-minute tirade, until I looked at my watch and realized the game had started ten minutes ago and I was still stuck in a pointless argument. It had become horribly obvious that
neither one of was going to win this hand, so I decided it was time to chop the pot.

“Listen, I’ll make a deal with you,” I said. “I have always kept my poker money separate from house money and I don’t plan on changing that now. If I ever need to use house money to replenish my bankroll I will repay it within 48 hours with interest.”

“Why? You think you’re that good?” she asked, grinning sarcastically.

“No, honey, I know I’m that good. If you get the hell out of the way long enough, you’ll know it as well.”

She sat there staring at me with a blank look on her face. It had never occurred to her that I might be good at the game. She thought I was just a social player, who risked money to sit around playing with his drinking buddies. And I was just standing there staring back at her and feeling annoyed. How I could have put myself in the predicament of needing to negotiate to play poker?

“Who the hell needs this crap,” I thought, “a thousand times better off single!”

My thoughts were interrupted by a settlement offer.

“I’ll tell you what,” she said. “You go, play and enjoy yourself. If you touch family funds, I want it back in the house in 24 hours, not 48. And I want it back double.”

I started laughing uncontrollably. Can you believe the nerve of this woman? First she dictated my actions to me, and then she charged me vig on my own money. And what a vig – 100 percent a day! But I was too tired to argue and the clock kept ticking, so I figured it was time to cut my losses and move on.

“Fine, you got it. I’ll see you in the morning.”

I went off to the game.

After I had time to cool off I realized the wisdom of the request. If you are taking money out of a household to replenish a portion of your bankroll, then doubling up just that portion should not be a problem. In fact I could not see any harm in putting more money back into my own household than I had taken out initially, as that’s what I would have done after a couple of winning sessions anyway. So I stuck to my wife’s deal and in 17 years of marriage I have never had to miss a payment. Only in a few rare occurrences have I ever needed to touch household funds.

As time went by and Angelica started to see a regular influx of cash making its way home each week, she soon realized that there was a method to my madness. She realized poker could be played profitably for prolonged periods of time and there was a significant difference between the game of poker and games of chance. For the first time, she understood this was truly a game of skill.

It’s actually pretty funny when you think about it. Angelica was not only Greek, she came from the same island as my mother and had a very similar upbringing. And they reacted to my playing poker in exactly the same way, both at first when they were worried and subsequently as they saw the money it brought in.

The argument that night was not only the last time we quarreled about my playing poker, it was the last discussion regarding that matter. From that day on, she has always stood by me and supported me in any decision I have made. She has been right behind me in every business venture and everything I have done to provide for her and our children. She has never questioned me, my commitment to our household or my commitment to the game she shares her husband with. Even today, 17 years later, she is as supportive as any man could ask for. Our marriage has been a true partnership and she has been involved in every decision I have made.

At the end of the day her brother was right after all. She was too good for me and I am truly blessed to have her in my life. Eventually, as our family was further blessed by the arrival of three children, two girls and a boy, even her brothers managed to come around. Throughout our marriage, relations with her family had always been polite, but I would say it took about a decade to reach true acceptance.

John “The Greek” Leontakianakos is a professional poker player with 27 years of experience. He runs his own website called JohnTheGreekPoker.

1. This Game of Ours, Chapter Twelve
2. This Game of Ours, Chapter Four
3. This Game of Ours, Chapter Three
4. This Game of Ours, Chapter Five
5. This Game of Ours, Chapter Seven