THOSE old staples - sex, drugs and rock'n'roll -
just aren't getting the juices of America's
youth flowing like they used to.
Not when there's the chance to sit
expressionless at a poker table, wearing dark
sunglasses and a baseball cap pulled down over
your eyes, for 12 hours at a time.
It
was not long ago that poker was played in dingy
cellars, the near-exclusive domain of men in
green visors who chewed on cheap cigars and had
cartoonish names such as Joey Bagels, Billy
Mops, Tony Plugs (he used to be Tony Toupee) and
Mickey Chips.
But now, fuelled by the explosive growth in
television ratings for professional tournaments
and a proliferation of online casinos, poker has
become the drug of choice for up to 80 million
Americans of all ages and, lately, genders.
"Poker is all the rage," says Phil Gordon, a
player who commentates on one of four major
poker shows on US television.
"Television helped demystify it and bring a lot
of new players to the game. They see how it's
done on TV and envision themselves playing."
Retailers are expecting huge sales this
Christmas for all things poker-related, from
custom-made chips to upscale tables, while in
casinos across the country, blackjack tables are
being rapidly converted to accommodate the poker
craze.
Las Vegas reports that poker revenue jumped this
year by up to 33 per cent, while traditional
moneyspinners such as slots and blackjack barely
rose. At racecourses around the US, card table
revenues are outpacing wagers placed on the
track.
"It really is a craze," says Hollywood actor Jon
Favreau. "I play online a lot. Unfortunately.
"Ben Affleck kept trying to push it on me and
even tried to open an account for me. I ended up
doing it on my own, and don't ask me if they
send you money if you win because I wouldn't
know."
Neither would the parents of a New Jersey
primary school boy who were called in by his
principal after their son lost a cool $US300
($420) playing poker.
That, of course, is the flip side to the
improbable story of Chris Moneymaker - no, not a
nom de guerre - the Tennessee accountant who
last year won the World Series of Poker and its
$US2.5 million first prize.
Moneymaker, now a fully fledged celebrity who
has given up his job to play poker
professionally, started his ascension by
spending $US40 to enter an online tournament.
He
won a $US10,000 entry fee into the world series
and the rest is a Las Vegas wet dream.
"That's the rags-to-riches story, the American
Dream," says Stanley Sludikoff, who publishes
Poker Player, a newspaper devoted to the
game.
Across the US, millions are lining up to play
the form of the game made famous by the TV shows
such as Texas HoldEm.
The game is relatively simple: each player is
dealt two cards face down and then shares five
community cards. Three of the community cards
are flopped at once, followed by the next and,
ultimately, the crucial final card, known as The
River. Betting occurs at each stage and the
object is to make the best five-card hand.
The other main variation in this style of a
genre that originated on Mississippi riverboats
in the 19th century is that it is a tournament,
not a my-bank's-bigger-than-yours game. Players
pay only an entry fee - small in friendly games,
tens of thousands in the professional ranks.
They are then assigned chips and have the goal
of bankrupting every other player in order to
claim the first prize, which is a percentage of
the entry fees.
What has everyone so emboldened is that they
have watched on TV for so long they're convinced
that if they can count to 52 they can become the
next Moneymaker. And that includes the young,
who aren't content to think of poker as a
spectator sport.
"People our age really like to gamble," says
university student David Doolittle. Everybody
wants to push the envelope. Andy Orsmby, a
24-year-old who graduated recently from
university and was working as a mortgage broker,
has given up his career in the hope of becoming
as famous as Doyle Brunson, or Amarillo Slim
Preston or Johnny Chan.
"I
win enough to make a living and I'm looking for
a sponsor," he told a Florida newspaper.
Not everyone thinks it a foolish sentiment. "I
think poker has really captured the imagination
of our youth today," says Chris "Jesus"
Ferguson, the son of a university professor who
won the 2000 World Series of Poker.
"And what you want to do is use that to our
advantage. We can use poker to teach kids about
critical reasoning and mathematics and
probability."
Of
course, the probability of critical reasoning
when a kid sees more dollars than he can count
before his eyes is, well, problematic.
It
is true trends come and go, but don't look for
this one to subside any time soon, not
considering there are thousands of players
willing to pony up the $US10,000 entry fee into
the world series - or one of its competing tours
- which could set up a first prize in the tens
of millions.
"There's no immediate ceiling," says Sludikoff.
"I don't think we're anywhere near peaking."
