You meet all kinds of people in the wide world of gambling. Some are memorable characters who stay in your mind forever...
...while others just pop up and fade away.
Lucky was one of the people whose memory stays with me.
He was a slim nervous man who wore glasses. His wispy hair was light colored, and he had a nervous habit of fumbling with his chips over and over until he raised or folded his hand. That NEVER changed.
I met him at Binion's Horseshoe, a casino hotel in Tunica, in the early 1980s.
We were playing $4-8 Texas Holdem one night and I ran out of money around 9 p.m. I got up to leave and decided to have one more go at my opponents.
Lucky was sitting behind a pile of chips. Figuring nothing ventured nothing gained, I walked over to his table just as he got up to take a stretch.
"You don't know me and I don't know you," I said, "but my mother always accused me of being a fairly honest person. I'm tapped out. If you could advance me $40 for a buy-in, I would be much obliged. I'll pay you back wit interest."
He pondered my question for a long moment. Then he smiled.
"Name's Lucky," he said. "I like that." He reached into his pocket, produced two $20 bills and handed them to me. "Good luck."
I was surprised at the loan but thanked him. I went back to my table, made a buy-in, and started winning! By midnight, I was up over $300 and before going home, I went to Lucky's table and handed him $50. He pocketed the money and winked.
From that day on, I would see him from time to time at either the Horseshoe, the Union Plaza or The Orleans where he would play tournaments. He was a good player who could hold his own and I considered him a dangerous opponent.
I still remember the last time I played against him:
We were in a no limit Texas Holdem tournament at The Orleans, and the dealer dealt me a queen 10 of clubs.
Five players called the bet and I tossed bet into the pot. Lucky raised $300. I called him. The flop came q-q-10.
Lucky came out betting and I just called.
"Your in over your head," he warned as he made a bet on fourth street.
"Really?," I said. "I don't think so." I just called.
On fifth street an ace fell. Lucky checked and I came out betting.
"Sure you want to do that?,' he said, smiling.
"I'm sure."
He pushed his stack forward. "I'm all in," he said.
I toyed with the idea of calling him. Then I turned over my cards and said, "You lucky bastard. I fold."
He grinned, flipped over his pocket aces and pulled in the pot. Then he winked.
"That's why they call me Lucky," he said.
Author: Geno Lawrenzi Jr.
(Geno Lawrenzi Jr. is an international journalist, magazine author and ghostwriter and poker player who lives in Phoenx, AZ. He has published 2,000 articles in 50 magazines and 125 newspapers. If you want to share a gambling story or book idea with him, send an email to glawrenzi@gmail.com ).
