On the face of it, winning the first $100 event at the Plaza meant very little in monetary terms. In fact, with my dire circumstances at the time, nothing but a big win could really help get my life back. But sometimes, monetary rewards come second to other needs. In my case, I probably needed a cause and a direction more than anything. Perhaps just as importantly, I needed an outlet for the competitiveness that was once abundant within. Either way, whatever I needed apart from money, poker gave me. And such, winning was just as important, irrespective of the reward. So, even the money did very little to help in the overall scheme of things, at least I felt inspired, confident and ready to play.
Luckily, the Plaza was holding two of these every day. And with my vibes flowing like the river Mersey, I became unstoppable as I took down the first four events. To see Tony’s face was a picture. How could I not continue my partnership with him, even though I now had money? But this was an unreal start. From no hope, to looking like I was on top of the world. Sadly, my streak came to an end when Mellisa Hayden (Allen Cunningham’s best friend) beat me heads-up in the fifth, I still recall the hand after all these years.
-9c for me and
-Qh for Mellisa. Having called my pre-flop re-raise, Mellisa called all-in on a flop of
-3c-2d - apparently she got fed up of my “bullying” as she put it! Anyhow, Tony and I partnered in one-tables at Binons for the next two weeks.
Starting off with a $500 limit holdem, I recall how Tony would watch from the rail and comment continuously to the guy stood next to him. Finally I managed to get heads with a woman that looked very inexperienced. However, she knew enough to ask if I wanted a deal, even if the terms she suggested forced fits of laughter from Tony. In fact, he starts telling the guy how I was going to destroy her etc. etc and that she had NO CHANCE WHATSOVER. Now Tony is a real sweetheart and he means no harm, but he knew how to hand out the old BS. But he was right, as another 5K was added to the bankroll. Just then, the guy with the burning ears makes his way from the rail to console his WIFE whom I had just beaten. To see a grown man cower from the scene as Tony did, is truly beyond words.
Our partnership continued and so did the wins. Within a couple of weeks, I had over $25K as my share of the winnings and an assured entry from Tony for the main event. With a confidence and a belief that I was destined to win the big one, I took a few days off.
On the face of it, things couldn’t be any better. But the truth was, not all was well with Peter. In fact, mentally, I had been on the slippery slopes for a while by then. I guess it all started when my desire for a different life grew to become a desperate need that I could no longer fight. For years, I had managed to avoid such a confrontation simply due to knowing what divorce would mean to my wife’s security. For her security, had also been a desire that grew into a desperate need. And after a lifetime of hard labor in the business, who could blame her? Torn between the two needs and without a solution, I began to slide. While on the journey down, I began to discard the heavy load. Out went desire. Out went logic. Out went caring. Out went pride. From building for the future, I could see no future. From wanting a new life, to forsaking the one I had. I had heard it called self-destruction - I guess I was finding out.
I had tried to avoid such a path in the past. By having hope that I could win enough money before leaving, I had a solution of sorts. But the slide down seemed to happen so quickly, I felt time running out. With desperation, poker became a casualty. It no longer served a purpose. Gone were the days when even the little wins counted. For they were added to the pile, added to the years of building. No….poker was not the answer in my eyes. .But neither were my other choices. In fact, looking for a big win through various other forms of gambling, was going to be the end of me.
Back at the Plaza, this could so have easily been the outcome. But somehow, as was the case before and since, the end was somehow avoided. As for this trip? I gave the Plaza some side action. In fact, although I broke around even during our month there, it did get all our eight rooms fully comped! Funny thing was, when we retuned the following January for the Carnival of Poker at the Rio, we all visited the Plaza for a free posh dinner (wine and all). Obviously, we all felt obliged to give them a little action before tucking in. As it happens, one of the group rolled the dice for about 20 minutes and we all walked off winning. Flushed with cash, all six of us tipped $100 each to the staff in advance. Boy did that expensive wine flow that day! If any of you see Mad Marty Wilson, ask him for his version, I‘m sure he will color it up a bit. Anyway, back to the Plaza and with Tony.
With my seat in the big one assured and with just two days to go, I fall victim to a mother of all eye infections. Unable to sleep for those two nights and with one eye completely closed, I felt it would be $10K wasted if I played the main event. Sad really, if ever there was a right time for something, then that time was it. Soon after the WSOP was over, we all prepared for the trip home. Then I realized something, I had no home to go to. In the end, I gave Frankie half my money to take back to Birmingham and to hold for me when times became desperate.
That night, when the boys left, it was as if all of Vegas had gone with them - god it felt lonely. Looking down from the window from the 23rd floor of the Plaza, the mind starts to wonder and the questions begin. What am I doing here? Where do I go now? I had longed for freedom for so long and now I had it. I could now do whatever I wanted. But what do I want? Just like the other couple of time when I had left, guilt begins to cast doubt at my actions. And while guilt sits at my side, I can never be free. I return back to my old life with my tail between my legs and a promise to the wife that I would try harder. But I am soon greeted by another form of guilt, one that tells me that this marriage will never work, will never be right. But for the moment, I guess that my staying is the lesser of the two. But for how long?
To be continued….
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