The Golden Gun

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August 8th, 2017
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It took me a while to write this article. The reason is that it goes against my principles and violates my long-standing belief that it's never wise to go into debt to gamble.

But the more I thought about it, the more I realized the story should be told. I am not advocating for you to do the same, by the way. I am just telling you what I did in Lake Elsinore, CA. about 20 years ago.

I was working in Phoenix when the urge to play poker settled in me. I tried to fight it, but it didn't work, and that weekend I made the five-hour drive to the 24-hour card room by the lake where Steve McQueen raced his motorcycle.

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Payday wasn't until the following Friday, so I had a limited amount of money to spend. Oh, well, I told myself, I just have to tighten up my play.

I arrived at the card room about 11 p.m. and checked into my room at the motel. Nick Notos, the owner, told me the card room was hosting a poker tournament the following evening at 7 p.m.

'The buy-in is $125 and first place should be worth around $6,000,' he said. 'I hope you give it a shot.'

While I didn't commit myself to the project, I promised Nick I would think about it.

My luck was horrible that night. In hand after hand, I was card dead. Nothing seemed to change my luck and by the time I WENT TO BED, I HAD LESS THAN $50 LEFT.

The next day was sunny and warm. I debated whether I wanted to stay and risk my final dollars. The tank was filled and would get me back to Phoenix. I took a dip in the swimming pool, thought about it, and then I picked up my suitcase and headed for the car. I just didn't think the $50 was enough to give me a reasonable chance of staking a win.

As I started up the engine, a thought came to me. I had a Ruger .22 revolver in the glove compartment of the car. I picked up the gun, unloaded it, and walked into the card room. Nick was standing in the bar area and greeted me.

'Nick, I need a loan,' I said. 'How much will you lend me on this pistol?'

He picked up the gun. 'Ruger makes a nice gun,' he said. 'I can let you have $100 on this. That's interest-free.'

It took me about three seconds to accept his offer. The $100 would give me enough for the buy-in to the tournament.

'Thanks, friend,' I said. 'I owe you one.' I handed him the gun and he gave me a $100 bill.

About 120 players signed up for the tournament. I did some preliminary exercises before I took my seat. I ran some wind springs, did jumping jacks and pushups, and cleared my head by pumping oxygen into the right places.

At 7 p.m., the tournament started. My first hand was pocket queens and I raked in a decent-sized pot.

My second hand: pocket jacks. Another win.

I had a good seat and the cards ran over me. By the time we reached our first 10-minute break, I was chip leader at my table.

The game tightened up after the break but the cards continued to come to me. Nick came by my table and saw my stack of chips. He smiled.

'I should have charged you interest on the loan,' he said.

By 11 p.m., three-fourths of the players had been eliminated and I was chip leader. I stayed on top, making the final table, and when the tournament ended, I was the winner, picking up over $6,000.

As Nick paid me off, he handed me back my gun and deducted a $100 bill.

'That Ruger isn't just a pistol,' he said. 'That's a golden gun.'

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