Combine the mind of a University Professors student with the luck of the Irish. The shrewdness of Dewey Tomko with the arrogance of Donald Trump. And what do you have?
A successful player in the fastest-growing game of the new millennium: Texas Hold ’em poker.
I know you’ve played it. And if you haven’t? Climb out from your spider hole and rejoin the living.
Hold ’em is a game of as much skill as luck. A professional will tell you, as James McManus does in his book “Positively Fifth Street,” that the game, at the highest levels, is 30 percent luck. (His name should help you understand the origin of his theory.) There is skill involved. A player must use all the facts given to him in order to make informed decisions, although essentially every play is a guess.
If you look around right now, the world of sports seems to be having that same feeling.
Decisions are being made without knowing the precise outcome. Early Tuesday morning, The Daily Free Press learned that junior defensemen Ryan Whitney will leave his one remaining year of eligibility on the table and move on to the NHL. Now, I’m not saying that I’d rather be taking Landscaping 101 than accept a deal (in principle) worth $1.185 million a year, but I am saying that I would like to have a job next year.
Whether he’ll be playing for (or alongside, depending on his status) Mario Lemieux, or watching hockey from the box seats of Harry Agganis Arena, depends on the limo-riding, money-grubbing suits that work in the NHL offices – the principle players of which being Commissioner Gary Bettman and NHL Players Association Executive Director Bob Goodenow.
The owners are threatening a lockout if salaries are not decreased. Whitney’s decision is like going all in with 10-2 off-suit. It’s nuts. At least by staying here, he would have a chance to play next year. Let’s just hope his cards come up.
It’s actually the same thing with basketball. You see the prospective NBA draft for this year? Every Tom, Dick and Dwight Howard is entering. It’s like the Maurice Clarett syndrome has infected every high school with anyone over 6-foot-5. All these kids are bluffing without the nuts. (And if you don’t understand that, then you probably stopped reading me sometime around October.)
Do all of them seriously think they can make it? Get a guaranteed three-year contract given automatically to all first-rounders? Get real. Come back to the stable, Huckleberry.
CBSsportsline.com is reporting that a possible 17 high schoolers are entering the draft – just about the same number of words Mike Tyson can pronounce.
It just won’t happen for all those guys. But you know what? Who am I to stop someone from going after millions of dollars? I just wish that these guys would think before they jump to call a bet for which they have no idea of the outcome.
Along with basketball, April is the most Hold ’em-type month for baseball. Everyone thinks his or her prediction for the league is the right one. Everyone has an opinion, even this writer (if you allow me to call myself that).
The American League East should have its name changed to the “it’s-no-fair division.” I haven’t heard this much whining and crying since Jessica Simpson decided to go on TV.
All this stems from one of the most publicized off-seasons in history, as we awaited news on a possible A-Rod trade to Boston. The talks broke down, were rekindled, broke down, rekindled and broke down again before the Evil Empire swooped in and snatched the Gold Glove shortstop.
That’s when the bitching started.
Red Sox management and ownership blasted the Yankees and, more directly, Yankee boss George Steinbrenner for adding arguably the best player in the game. The Sox have the second highest payroll and are the only other team paying the luxury tax. Anyway, they shouldn’t worry about New York, because their biggest worries are going to come from the City of Brotherly Love, or the one that’s windy. (And if you don’t understand that, then Long Island is the most sheltered place in the Northeast.)
All cat fighting aside, the Red Sox will win the division solely on the fact the three-headed monster that is Pedro Martinez-Curt Schilling-Derek Lowe is as devastating as any trio in both leagues. A lineup that just keeps coming at you and the addition of a bona fide closer in Keith Foulke will ease the team’s transition for new manager Terry Francona.
The time is now. A championship is there for the taking. This needs to be “the year” before free agency steps in and the clock strikes 12.
So, the cards are dealt. And everyone, no matter what age, sport or team affiliation, is studying his or her hand.
Now, as Ray Ratto wrote, all we have to do is wait for the flop.
Nikhil Bramhavar, a senior in Sargent College of Health and Rehabilitation Sciences, is a weekly sports columnist for The Daily Free Press.