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Mainstream America buys into popular no-limit Texas Holdem
poker game.
It all came
down to this after five hours of no-limit Texas Holdem poker.
One tournament. Two players. Head to head. A total of $7,832 to the winner.
A boisterous
crowd gathered around Carlo Ernandes, of Portage, and David M. Kelley IV, of
Hickory Hills, Ill., who survived dozens of hands Wednesday afternoon.
The two 21st century riverboat gamblers outlasted, outhustled and outsmarted
more than 100 other players at the Trump Casino in Gary.
Some drove from as far as Wisconsin for the $90 "buy in" to the boat's new
weekly Holdem tournament. Others, like the 25-year-old Ernandes, play
regularly at the local boats.
"Let's have some fun," Kelley told Ernandes before they faced off.
But it wasn't about fun. It was about $7,832. And they both knew it as they
pinched up the corners of their two cards, stealing a peek at Lady Luck.
Holdem tournaments like these are still emerging across the country -- at
high-stakes casino boats, college campuses and chump-change neighborhood
games -- as mainstream America continues to buy into the pop culture poker
craze.
TV shows like the Travel Channel's "World Poker Tour," ESPN's "World Series
of Poker" and Bravo's "Celebrity Poker Showdown" have added chips to the
pot.
Holdem, probably the best game for beginners, "takes a minute to learn and a
lifetime to master," as the adage goes.
Trump is currently the only local casino to offer no-limit Holdem
tournaments, though Harrah's offers one with a betting limit.
"Tournaments like these are essential for serious poker players," said poker
room manager Henry Funke, who came here after overseeing the poker room at
Trump's Taj Mahal casino in Atlantic City for eight years.
Pocket rockets before the flop
When Wednesday's tournament began at 1 p.m., the "blinds," or mandatory
bets, were at $5 and $10. At nearly 6 p.m., the blinds were up to $8,000 and
$16,000. Either you call this bet, or you're out of the hand.
On the top level of the Trump boat, players nervously fidgeted with their
chips, creating a cricket-like drone. Most counted their $50 and $100 bills
like a bank teller.
Some wore hats and sunglasses to conceal their poker faces. Others wore cell
phones on their belts like six-shooters. Some never shut up. Others didn't
say boo, not even to short-skirted cocktail waitresses.
All, however, seemed oblivious to the outside world. Only Holdem mattered.
The last remaining 10 -- three from this region -- won cash prizes from $489
on up. The cash prize pool depends on the number of players and how many
times they "re-buy" into the game after losing their initial chips.
On the first hand of their head-to-head showdown, Ernandes landed two aces,
or "pocket rockets," the best two down cards in the game. Kelley landed a
king and six, a so-so hand. Yet he went "all in," meaning he bet all his
$1,000 chips. Everything.
Ernandes didn't blink. He bolted up, called the bet and slapped his pocket
rockets on the green felt table. The crowd erupted. Ernandes smiled. Kelley
smirked.
The dealer dealt the next three face-up cards, called "the flop," which both
players used to make their best five-card poker hand. A six came up, giving
Kelley a pair.
Then on "Fourth Street," the next face-up card, another six came up -- three
of a kind for Kelley. Then on "the river," the last face-up card, another
six. Four of a kind.
Kelley beamed, slapping high fives to the crowd. Ernandes couldn't believe
it.
"Shake it off, shake if off," a friend told him. "It's just premature
ejubilation for him."
Ernandes sighed, stacked his leftover chips and sat back down for another
hand.
Minutes later, he went all in with a "suited" six and nine of clubs.
Kelley called.
On the flop, Fourth Street and the river, another six turned up.
Ernandes caught a winning pair of sixes. Kelley caught second place, $3,916.
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