A Chip And A Chair: The 2033 World Series of Poker

By Stanley Cohen

I would like to introduce you to a novel about the 64th World Series of Poker main event in the year 2033 and beyond.

The  reader will play in this coveted tounament through the eyes of an aging poker player, who learns to never give up, when it no longer seems possible to continue, as he comes full circle  with his past. It soon

• Language: English
• Publisher: stanley cohen
• Release date: Apr 15, 2020
• ISBN: 9781734703870

Stanley Cohen

Stanley Cohen is an author, editor, and reporter whose work has received numerous awards for journalistic excellence. Originally from the Bronx, Cohen earned a BA in journalism from Hunter College and an MA in philosophy from New York University; he also served on the faculty at both schools. Cohen’s work has appeared in the New York Times, Inside Sports, and Sports, Inc., among many other publications. The Game They Played, his acclaimed account of the match-fixing scandal surrounding the 1949–50 City College men’s basketball team, was named one of the top sports books of all time by Sports Illustrated and was the basis of the HBO documentary City Dump, for which Cohen served as a program consultant. He is also the author of A Magic Summer and The Man in the Crowd, as well as the coauthor of Willie’s Game, an autobiography of billiards legend Willie Mosconi. Cohen lives in Tomkins Cove, New York.  

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© 2005 Stanley Cohen. All Rights Reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

ABOUT THE BOOK

I would like to introduce you to a novel about the 44th World Series of Poker main event in the year 2013 and beyond.

The reader will play in this coveted tournament through the eyes of an aging poker player, who learns to never give up, when it no longer seems possible to continue, as he comes full circle with his past. It soon becomes apparent that this man has more to worry about than being eliminated from this tournament, as his past could eliminate him from life itself.

The events, leading up to our hero’s unpredictable performance, revolve around the union of a Jewish New Yorker and a Christian Arkansan Coalminer’s daughter.

All of this set against the excitement of Las Vegas and the poker gods latest creation, the Final Table Resort.

ACKNOWLEDGMENT

TO

PAIGE

Whose love and encouragement

made this book possible.

Dedication

Dedicated to the memory of:

Carisa Lynn Ennis

&

Jean Levine

TRIBUTE TO

The World Series of Poker Champions, winners of the main tournament event, No limit Texas Hold’em

1970 Johnny Moss 1988 Johnny Chan

1971 Johnny Moss 1989 Phil Helmuth, Jr.

1972 Amarillo Slim Preston 1990 Mansour Matioubi

1973 Puggy Pearson 1991 Brad Daugherty

1974 Johnny Moss 1992 Hamid Dastmalchi

1975 Sailor Roberts 1993 Jim Bechtel

1976 Doyle Brunson 1994 Russ Hamilton

1977 Doyle Brunson 1995 Dan Harrington

1978 Bobby Baldwin 1996 Huck Seed

1979 Hal Fowler 1997 Stu Ungar

1980 Stu Ungar 1998 Scotty Nguyen

1981 Stu Ungar 1999 Noel Furlong

1982 Jack Straus 2000 Chris Furguson

1983 Tom McEvoy 2001 Carlos Mortenson

1984 Jack Kellar 2002 Robert Varkonyi

1985 Bill Smith 2003 Chris Moneymaker

1986 Berry Johnston 2004 Greg Raymer

1987 Johnny Chan

THE BALLAD

of

A Chip and A Chair

By

Stanley Cohen

I was on cloud nine until my pocket aces were cracked, by three of a kind

I was left with only one chip to my name and it didn’t seem much use to continue this game

Then an angel came into my life in the form of my wife

She told me not to despair, just bow my head and say a prayer

And all you will need is a chip and a chair

Bow your head and say a pray

All you need is a chip and a chair

I was up and now I’m down, cracked pocket aces have left me with a frown

What can I do with only one chip, my spirit is broken and my heart is about to rip.

Then an angel came into my life in the form of my wife

She told me not to despair, just bow my head and say a prayer

And all you need is a chip and a chair

Bow your head and say a pray

All you need is a chip and a chair.

PROLOGUE

In most contests, those who are best prepared, usually triumph.

In the game of poker, a well prepared player can do everything right, and the outcome can turn out wrong.

On the other hand, an ill-prepared player can do everything wrong, and the outcome can turn out right.

The successful poker player understands the risks involved in this paradox, which enhances the probability of his future successes.

The statistical odds, that he bases his decisions on, even out in the long run, which may or may not include the length of a poker tournament.

That is to say, that lady luck plays a major part in this game that is only reserved for those who dare to court her.

Chapter 1 

2 of Clubs

If I die and go to heaven, please God let it be this place, thought Mark Levy, now age 69.

He slowly turned in a 360 degree motion and stared in awe at the ring games and satellite action, now taking place in the largest poker room in the world, the two thousand table Grand Poker Salon, located on the main floor of the Final Table Resort.

Only the poker gods could have conceived of this wonder of wonders; an oblong green structure standing out as an illuminated hold’em table in the stark Las Vegas night. The Final Table Resort, unlike the other mega casino resorts, did not offer any of the other gaming leaks and distractions, but was dedicated only to the art of poker.

This six star resort with 3680 rooms, twenty one eating choices, international entertainment, five pools, body pampering health spas, exquisite shops, tennis and golfing complimented a true shrine to poker and was now the home of the 2013 World Series of Poker.

I wonder what Benny would think if he was here with me today? Would his vision of what the poker world would be like in 2013 be anything like this?

As the story goes, Benny Binion, the creator of the WSOP, in 1949 staged a match in Las Vegas at his Binion’s Horseshoe Casino, between The legendary Johnny Moss and the inveterate gambler Nicholas ‘Nick the Greek’ Dandolos. After five months of play, the Greek lost an estimated two million dollars. When he lost his last pot, he arose from his chair, bowed slightly and uttered the now famous words, Mr. Moss, I have to let you go.

In 1970, Binion assembled some of the best poker players in the country to stage a contest called The World Series of Poker, and Johnny Moss won. The decision was democratic, as the popular vote decided the champion.

In 1971, Johnny Moss won again, winning the grand prize of $30,000 whereby the winner was now determined by a freeze-out tournament, in which one player won all the chips.

In 1972, the WSOP gained more exposure when Thomas ‘Amarillo Slim’ Preston won $80,000 and went on the talk show circuit.

In the early 1980’s, Benny’s baby grew up and the WSOP blossomed, with the introduction of preliminary lower buy-in satellite competitions.

In 1982, when Jack Straus won $520,000 in the main event, affectionately known asThe Big Dance, there were 104 players.

In 1988, Johnny Chan, in his back to back win from 1987, won $700,000 for the main event, which grew to 167 players.

On Christmas Day 1989, Benny Binion passed away.

In 2002, Robert Varkyoni won $2,000,000 in the WSOP main event which leap-frogged to 631 players.

In 2003, Chris Moneymaker parlayed an internet $40 satellite event into a $2,500,000 first prize in the WSOP main event, with an unprecedented 839 players.

In 2004, Greg Raymer won $5,000,000 in the WSOP main event, with the staggering sum of 2576 players.

At this point in time, Binion’s Horseshoe Casino was bursting at the seams and the Rio All-Suite Hotel and Casino, another Harrah’s property, offering 2540 suites, was chosen to house the 36th annual WSOP in Las Vegas in 2005.

As poker was becoming more popular because of the internet, the tiny hole card cameras of the Travel Channel’s World Poker Tour and ESPN’s coverage of the WSOP preliminary events, as well as The Big Dance, the poker fever heightened to a scalding level, as the entry field for the main event grew to 10,000 in 2007, and finally capped at 20,000 entries in 2012, where it was estimated that approximately 1300 would-be entries were turned away. Now, the 2013, 44th annual WSOP was being played here at the Final Table Resort, filled with the tension, fueled by the fear of being shut out, with the 20,000 entry cap in force.

* * *

Mark entered the WSOP registration rotunda,with his internet won entry voucher clutched in his hand and sat down in an auto-cruise control ultra-comfort seat at the end of one of the appropriate twenty-six letter referenced alphabet lines, which was slowly advancing towards the registration windows. This reminded him of the Yonkers Raceway paramutual windows, where he frequented as a young man. As he sat in line, he thought how the 2013 WSOP was not at all like it was when he was there in 2004.

Now, Las Vegas was bursting at the seams. All of the hotels were sold out, RV parks were filled to the brim, and Vegas residents were renting beds in their homes at extravagant rates. The traffic was almost in gridlock. Convenience stores were doing a landmark business selling sandwiches and hotdogs to those who were unwilling to wait on hotel restaurant lines.

Mark was relieved that his internet won entry, into The Big Dance, included accommodations here at the Final Table Resort.

The air was filled with anxiety. Some were standing silently with their $10,200 cash buy-in /fee held tightly in their hand and some were chatting how they won their entries online. One could hear stories of this bad beat and that big bluff, but the outstanding drama in this room today was the constant chatter, They’re capping this at 20,000. We’re going to get shut out. I’ve heard that all these damn internet players, who won their entries online, have seats reserved and there are so many of them here today. I know I am going to be shut out.

With all of this taking place, one could hear the comforting tone of the loud speaker announcement.

Please relax, the lines have been counted and we guarantee that all people that are in line now will not be shut out. All of you will be able to register for The Big Dance."

Chapter 2 

3 of Clubs

Mark entered the high speed elevator, placed his right thumb on the fingerprint ID indicator, and was whisked up to the Wild Bill floor. He stepped out of the elevator into the 1880’s Old West. The décor in the hallway, leading to his room, was flawless in every detail. He once again activated the fingerprint ID and entered his room. The only things missing were his holstered six guns to hang on the bedpost. He took off his shoes and lay down on his four poster. He reached into his left shirt pocket and pulled out his seat assignment for the 2013 Big Dance.

Shit.

He reached into his right shirt pocket and took out his video cell phone and uttered the command home.

After several seconds, the smiling face of his wife Peggy, appeared on the screen and she said, How’s my favorite cowboy doing? You look stressed.

It’s the waiting that’s all. I’m ready now and I gotta wait. It’s not the odds I told you, it’s the wait, said Mark in his best Steve McQueen voice.

Oh, I didn’t realize I was speaking to the Cincinnati Kid. Is Shooter with you now? Peggy coyly asked.

You got that one, huh? said Mark as he broke into a smile.

Are you kidding? You made me watch that scene between Steve McQueen and Karl Malden in The Cincinnati Kid, at least a thousand times, replied Peggy laughingly.

Now tell me what’s wrong. I can see it in your eyes.

It’s my damn seat assignment. I drew the four seat and you know I don’t see the flop very well on the corners.

Can you change it for another seat?

No, it’s written in fine print on the bottom of the ticket that all seat assignments are random and cannot be changed.

What table are you on?

Table number 1236.

Are you in day one, two or what?

There are 2000 tables in this joint and they’re going to use everyone of them for the main event. There will not be any fields. Everyone will start at the same time.

What’s going to happen with the ring games? Where will they be played?

For day one all ring game action will be paused and will resume as the tables break down.

Look honey, Peggy replied. Don’t worry about your corner seat. Get yourself some seat cushions to raise you up; you know that always helps and I’m sure as the tables break down, you’ll be transferred to a better seat.

There are no seat cushions, as all of the seats are power, just like a car with height and lumbar adjustments, which are memory controlled by fingerprint ID.

All that modern jazz and here you are staying in a room above the Deadwood Saloon. Do you have to use an outhouse?

Yeah, but they have a fingerprint ID memory automatic wiping system, said Mark, grinning from ear to ear.

You’ll do fine, honey and remember what you promised me; no ring games to loosen you up before the big dance. Love you.

Love you too, answered Mark, as he clicked off his cell phone.

Chapter 3 

4 of Clubs

San Morino, San Morino, just as great as a glass of vino. All the rest are not worth the time, cause this hold’em championship will be mine.

The abrupt sound of the cheering in the hallway stirred Mark, who had dozed off with his cell phone clutched in his hand.

He arose from his four poster and opened his door. He stared in disbelief as he viewed the parade marching down the corridor alerting most of the guests to open their doors and gaze along with him.

San Morino, San Morino, just as great as a glass of vino. All the rest are not worth the time, cause this hold’em championship will be mine.

The first of this entourage was a group of pretty young ladies dressed as cheerleaders, pom-poms and all, wearing white tops with the red letters San Morino embroidered on the front, cheering in an Italian accent.

This first group of this parade represented San Morino, the 5th smallest country in the world, 34 square miles with a population of 29,000 located in North Central Italy on Mt Titano..

Liechtenstein, Liechtenstein, confident and keen. Show us to the poker table and we’ll show you where we gleam. Cheering in a German accent, this second group, of attractive young ladies, sported the words Liechtenstein in blue letters embroidered on their yellow jerseys.

This group represented the 6th smallest country, 62 square miles with a population of 34,000 located between Switzerland and Austria in the Alps.

St Kitts, St Kitts, we are the ritz. We’ve got the guts, to show you the nuts. Chanting in a British West Indian accent, the third group of charming young ladies dressed in their cheerleader costumes with St Kitts embroidered in gold against their green tops, represented the 8th smallest country, 104 square miles with a population of 39,000 located in the British West Indies.

Mark was to learn that this parade marched on every floor of the Final Table Resort and they represented the tip of the iceberg of small countries that had sent their best hold’em player to represent them in the Big Dance.

All of these countries ran individual contests/tournaments to establish who would represent them, and the individual countries put up the $10,000 entry plus all fees and expenses.

After the last of the parade passed, Mark stepped back inside his room and closed the door.

Wow, poker is going ballistic. First, there were corporate sponsorships and now individual countries. What’s next, the Olympics?

Mark glanced at his watch.

Wow, it’s 8:20 pm. I’m starved and I probably have jet lag. Right now it’s 10:20 pm. back home in Arkansas, and I haven’t eaten since breakfast except for a small snack on the plane.

He was wearing jeans, wide garrison belt with a big buckle and a jean shirt. He slipped on a pair of cowboy boots, put on his jean jacket and removed his cowboy hat from a plastic bag. As he was about to put his hat on, a folded piece of paper fell out onto the bed.

He looked in amusement as he opened the folded paper, which read, Remember John Wayne, you promised me that you would not wear your ‘Doc Holiday’ costume to the Big Dance. There will be thousands of other cowboys there, and we agreed that you’re not going to be part of the ‘Wild Bunch’. I want you to wear what I picked out for you. Love, Peggy.

He laughed as he donned his cowboy hat and left the room, looking for some grub. He decided to eat in the ‘Liberty Valance’ Café, which was also located on the Wild Bill floor.

Mark smiled, as he thought back to the many times he made Peggy watch one of his favorite westerns, The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, starring John Wayne, Jimmy Stewart and Lee Marvin.

He was greeted at the entrance by an amazing look-alike of John Wayne, who said, What it’ll be, pilgrim; a table or a seat at the bar?

I’ll take a table.

John signaled to a pretty dance hall hostess, who led Mark past the piano player, playing ‘Oh Them Golden Slippers,’ to a small table.

As Mark was studying the menu, a dead on image of Lee Marvin, carrying a silver handled whip, dressed as, ‘Liberty Valance’, the fastest gun south of the picket wire, entered the café and walked over to Mark’s table, slammed his whip down on the table with a snapping sound and said, Is everything alright, dude?

Mark nodded yes.

Well, let me know if it’s not and I’ll make it up to you.

Liberty walked past John and then turned and started to reach for his gun. John put his hand on the butt of his gun and said, Try it Liberty, please try it.

Liberty Valance turned and walked away.

Mark smiled at the staged scene and thought, "I wonder if Jimmy Stewart AKA, Ranse Stoddard, was back in the kitchen, wearing a big white apron, washing dishes for his keep as they were frying giant steaks and potatoes. The thought of that scene made Mark’s mouth salivate.

What it’ll be? said the western clad waitress.

"Burn me a