poker. The way that you learned was by playing or by asking the
rounders, whom we now call the pros, questions. Poker strategy
consisted of getting a pencil and paper and trying to calculate, usually
incorrectly, the odds in certain situations. Now, there are many books,
some of which are excellent, and since I am in the poker business, I have
tried to read as many as I can.
This
brings me to the topic of this column, which is that nowhere have I read
the concept of "heart" used. What is heart? Good question. I think that
it's an awfully illusive thing to define. It reminds me of the old saying, "I
don't know how to describe it, but I know it when I see it."
All of the good players have it to some degree, some more than others.
There are a few who stand out to me. They're people who could get
drawn out on by a one-outer in the $10,000 World Series of Poker event,
and the next day, would be playing in a $300 event and would be
playing as good as they could with all of the intensity in the world.
If I haven't given you a picture of these people yet, I'll quit trying and will
just say T.J. Cloutier, John Bonetti, Tuna Lund, and Men Nguyen. They all
have the attributes of a great player: how to play position, great reading
skills, and knowledge of the odds the flow of the game. But the thing
that sets them apart from even the excellent players is, you guessed it,
heart.
When Lund lost his dream to win the WSOP in 1990 when a miracle 10
came on the river, he fought his way back. It would have been easy to
throw off the rest of his small stack, go home, and say how unlucky he
had been, but he built his chips back up to almost even and eventually
lost the title.
When I later talked to him, he just said, "That's the breaks." Two years
later, he came close again, winning third place in 1992. He once again
said, "I played bad at the end." That was it -- there was no crying and no
hanging of his head. I have asked him several times how it feels to have
come so close twice. He never really answers the question; he just says,
"I'll get it someday." And don't think that he won't, because he's got
heart.
Then there's John Bonetti, who is having medical problems. They're the
kind with which most of us would be sitting home feeling sorry for
ourselves, saying, "Why me?" That's not the case with Bonetti. He's
saying (to coin a phrase from the Civil War), "Damn the torpedoes, full
speed ahead." He's still playing and winning with the same enthusiasm
he always has had. This guy has heart.
Men "The Master" Nguyen had a disastrous WSOP in 1997. He could
have pulled in his horns, cut back, and rested on his many laurels, but he
didn't. In a couple of weeks, he was playing $300 tournaments with the
same lust that he always has. He went on to capture two best all-around
player awards before the year was out. That's heart.
T.J. Cloutier can best be described as the best tournament player in the
world. Instead of citing instances of his lion heart, let me just say that if
he and Mike Tyson went into a phone booth to fight, I'd bet on Cloutier.
This man does not know how to let down or give up.
Recently, Cloutier and I got heads up in a $1,000 tournament, and
somehow or other, I caught a few cards and ended up beating him. He
didn't make a single snide remark or display a glare; he simply offered a
sincere handshake and said, "Nice going, Vince."
So, you now are asking what that has to do with having heart. Well,
what would a guy with heart do after coming so close one night? He
would just come back the next day and play a $100 tournament like he
was playing the $10,000 WSOP event -- with the same intensity and the
same desire. By the way, the next day, Cloutier won the $100 Chinese
poker event.
For what it's worth ...
