Poker – It really is just a game

After I wrote my first article for this website, I was kicking around ideas for my second one. Nothing really stood out for me. Then I received news that really affected me, more than I realised it would. It also made me gain some perspective on my life and the way I perceive poker.

I love poker. For the last 3 years, it has been a mainstay in my life. I have switched jobs to be involved in the poker industry. My friends are now mostly poker based. Poker has contributed to breakdowns of relationships with girls I really cared about. I think about poker more than I think about sex (I still prefer sex more, luckily.) My own mother is convinced I have a gambling problem. And I would not change this situation.

But it is just a game. Yes, it’s a game that you can make a living out of. Yes, an extremely good living at that. It’s a game that encompasses all human emotion. It is the ultimate test of fortitude and resolve, and is a damn good time that can be shared with friends. But it is still a game. It, as an entity, is not important. We make it important to us. And as a result when something like this comes along it really makes you gain some perspective on what poker actually means to you.

Before I go any further, it is not my intention to make light of anything, or to offend anybody. This is truly my own feelings, and I really don’t mind if you disagree with me. Also, as most of this information is second or third hand, I also apologize if I make any factual errors. I am just trying to write something to recognize someone who unwittingly has had a massive affect on me.

I knew a young man called Daniel. I met him through poker; he played several games with me at one of my regular venues I host, although he played other venues as his regular games. When I say I knew him, it’s because unfortunately he passed on less than 2 weeks ago. I never really knew him that well, but he had a profound effect on me, and on just about every player he came into contact with. Not because of what his situation was, but because who he was a person.

Daniel was a very sick young man. He had Cystic Fibrosis. By the time I first met him, it was obvious there were medical issues with him. He was in a wheelchair with an oxygen tank. He always came with the same two friends, and they are a very nice group of guys.

We started chatting straight away. I wear several plastic wrist bands supporting cancer organizations, including one supporting 65 roses day for CF Australia. I wear it out of respect for an 11 year-old with CF I met when I coached his primary school cricket team when I was in high school. Dan noticed this and instantly we started talking about his situation. What struck me at first was not his honesty about his situation, or the fact that he was so willing to talk about. It was the fact that while the illness did affect him physically, he wouldn’t let it stop him from doing whatever he wanted whenever he could. He loved playing poker with his mates, and as long as he could do that he would.

He was on the top of the Lung Transplant donors list for South Australia, but he had to move to Melbourne several months ago which gave him a better chance of finding a suitable donor. He was so excited about the move the last time he came to one of my games. He was even asking me about Crown casino and playing poker in there, as he was extremely keen to test his skills (my stories of how easy it is to make money at Crown might have helped his enthusiasm)

When he left that night, he promised that he would send word back through his friends to how he was doing over there, and he would be back playing as soon as he was healed up. I was left feeling not only that he had a great chance, but that I would be looking forward to catching up with him again when he was feeling better.

A couple of months passed, time moved on. I asked his friends Stefan and Matt about him as regularly as possible. Reports were good; he just had to be patient waiting for a suitable donor. We were all still extremely positive about it all. Not a bad effect considering I only met him 10 times or so. He was just that sort of guy.

I didn’t see either Stefan or Matt for a few weeks, then this past Thursday Stefan came in and told me the terrible news. He had passed away the week before. I felt cold. It was like someone just tore the wind out of my lungs. When Stefan filled in the blanks, it began to sink in properly.

Dan had posted on Facebook the previous Sunday that a suitable lung donor had been found. Understandably, everyone was ecstatic for him. He had to move Cities and had been patient for months waiting for this moment. They prepped him for the operation straight away, with involved putting him in an induced coma. Unfortunately there were issues with the donor so the operation was at first delayed, and the cancelled altogether. Ultimately, this induced coma was one that he would never fully wake up from.

He passed away the next day, leaving behind a loving Fiancé, family, friends of all types and a definite place in memory for the rest of my life.

This is a guy I barely knew really, just another player to come through and play a game of free poker at a pub. But he was so much more than that to so many people. His happiness, optimism and passion shone through. It affects me now even when I think about him at this moment. It really helps put my life in perspective. If I can be more like him and just enjoy the situations I’m in, I’ll be a much better person for it.

The night that I found out about his passing, I ran the tournament in a daze, just continually thinking things over in my head. I started getting annoyed with people during the tournament complaining with how other players were playing, or how sick a beat they just took. I felt like shaking them and yelling “What does it matter? It’s just a game! There are so many worse things that could be happening to you right now!”

I’m glad I didn’t. Yes, poker is just a game. But it matters because we want it to matter. That’s ok; as long as we do not lose sight of the big picture. I have a great family, good friends and the best job in the world. Poker is a massive part of that. But it is just a game. And Dan has helped me realise just how much better poker is when enjoyed as just a game. I have that to thank him for.

I’m going to end this piece with my over-riding memory of Dan. It was one of the last times he played a game I was running. He had played well, only to be run down on the river by a player making a bad call. Dan didn’t call the player an idiot, he didn’t belittle his play; he didn’t even ask why he called. He didn’t even say my most hated poker saying - Fuck My Life (FML) - even though he’s probably the one guy I’ve ever met that would have reason to. He just shook the other guys hand, smiled, looked at me and said “Well, that’s just the way it is.”