Another Washington Poker Story — Finding the “Sucker”

 

 

Earlier this week, I returned to Washington. D.C. for the first time in a long while.  I lived in the District of Columbia and Arlington, Virginia (right across the Potomac River) for 12 years.  So, my recent visit here rekindled some old memories.  This is a continuation of the series which began yesterday.

 

Remember the old line about trying to discover who the sucker is in the poker game?  If you haven’t found him in ten minutes, it’s you?

The e-mail arrived from someone I didn’t know.

He was a self-described young poker player, eager to learn, and admittedly new to the game.  Fresh out of college and new to the Washington scene, this reader had seen my column in Card Player magazine and managed to reach me via e-mail.

“Do you know about any good local poker games?” he asked.

Bingo!

I knew how difficult searching for a serious but friendly poker game could be.  Back then, there were no casinos around.  Online poker was just beginning.  To play poker you had to reach out — sometimes to complete strangers — and hope someone might connect you to an honest game.

I knew a few spots.  One of the best was a sweet $10-20 Limit Hold’em game that went regularly.  Sometimes, they even got two full tables going.  This game seemed perfect for my new e-mail “friend.”

*     *     *

This was sometime around 1999.

Back then, No-Limit Hold’em practically didn’t exist — except at big-time events like the World Series of Poker.  If you found a Hold’em game spread at all, it was always spread as Limit Hold’em.  Before the poker boom started around 2003, most players who learned the game initially developed as Limit players, and then later made the mandatory transformation.

The $10-20 Limit Hold’em game was spread at a private residence in Northwest Washington.  The game was well run.  It even had a professional dealer and its own security.

Amazingly, for quite some time, I held the record for the biggest win ever in that game.  Then again, I also held the record for the biggest loss.  Years after I departed Washington, my pals occasionally provided updates and revealed that I still held the house record.  My notoriety was probably due to getting clobbered by the deck rather than any poker skill, as those who have played with me might attest.

Of course, once the house game changed to No-Limit, my all-time record win figure bit the dust and was gradually forgotten.

*     *     *

So, the new kid got invited to our game.  He even showed up.

He seemed like a polite young man.  At first glance, he looked like he still belonged in college.  His play wasn’t particularly memorable.  I don’t recall how he fared in that first session.  But we were all glad when he announced he’d like to come back in the future and play with us again.  New player.  With cash.  Quiet.  Never told a bad beat story.  The perfect catch.

Or so we thought.

The young man improved dramatically.  Like in a flash.  Or, perhaps he was good all along and gradually came to reveal his obvious superiority.  After a few more playing sessions with him, it was clear he was making plays, pressing small edges, folding at the right moments, and doing things differently from anyone else.  He was simply thinking on a different planet.

Even Russell Rosenblum, a good friend whom I’ve known since the old days in Washington, later admitted: “the new kid” was the best player in the game.  That’s really saying something since everyone considered Rosenblum to be was the best [SEE FOOTNOTE 1].

 *     *     *

After I moved to Las Vegas, I managed to keep in contact with this young man.  You could tell he was going places.  It was obvious.  He was way too smart not to succeed at whatever he wanted to do in life.

In 2000, one of the most prestigious poker tournaments in the world was called the Tournament of Champions.  This young man flew to Las Vegas, entered the $10,000 buy-in event, and ended up making his first major final table.

A few years later, he published a poker book, detailing the arduous process he went through from amateur to semi-pro and eventually to professional status.  Despite not having the usual credentials for writing a book at the time, let alone penning a biography, the narrative was a modest, no-nonsense first-hand account about someone who put his mind to something and then set out to accomplish it — and ultimately succeeded.  But the best was still yet to come [SEE FOOTNOTE 2].

The years passed.  By 2010, I was thrilled to see the poker player I initially knew as a kid matures into a highly-skilled veteran.  He made a WSOP final table that year.  He even ended up winning his first gold bracelet.  That was just the start.

In 2011, he won his second gold bracelet.

In 2012, he won his third gold bracelet.

For those keeping track, that’s three gold bracelet victories in three straight years.  Two of which included Limit Hold’em — the game we played back a decade earlier in Washington.  The other was in No-Limit Hold’em.  Very impressive, indeed.

So, who is this extraordinarily dedicated and remarkably talented poker pro?

His name is — Matt Matros.

A few months from now when the 2013 WSOP commences at the Rio in Las Vegas, Matros has a shot to become one of the few players in history to win a gold bracelet four consecutive years.

I guess I must have taught him something.  Perhaps it was what not to do.

FOOTNOTE 1:  A few years after this story, Rosenblum finished fifth in the 2002 WSOP Main Event Championship.  Matros was there at tableside.

FOOTNOTE 2:  Matros tells a far more detailed account of his story in his first book, titled “The Making of a Poker Player,” published in 2005.  I left out the part where he badly outplays me on a hand.  Read Matros’ book if you want to see a master toying with its prey.

FOOTNOTE 3:  To date, Matt Matros has won three WSOP gold bracelets — $1,500 buy-in Limit Hold’em in 2010, $2,500 buy-in Mixed Hold’em in 2011, and $1,500 buy-in Six-Handed No-Limit Hold’em in 2012.  His WSOP earnings now total $1,364,834.