TEXAS HOLDEM ONLINE POKER

"Most of us are on fixed incomes, and we don't want anyone to lose their Social Security over this," Beatty said. "Our maximum bets are nickels, dimes and quarters."

But Beatty and his cronies get a kick out of watching the high-stakes players on TV.

"It's fun to watch," said Charlie Rayner, 71, of Goodrich. "When they say, 'I'll bet $150,000,' it boggles the mind."

The World Poker Tour is a series of 16 high-stakes poker tournaments filmed in exotic locales and swanky casinos. The show, which airs at 9 p.m. Wednesdays, is the highest rated series in the history of the Travel Channel.

The play-by-play commentary, on-screen graphics and cameras that reveal the players' cards transformed poker into a televised spectator sport and spawned similar shows on other channels.

Last year, World Poker Tour tournaments offered more than $35 million in prize money. At the Davison center, $6 is a big win. But don't let the modest stakes lull you into a false sense of security.

"I tell you, when they get going around here, they show no mercy," joked Larry Dombrowski, 63, aka "High Spades Larry."

The group started five years ago with four players. Since then, it's grown to include about two dozen regulars, a diverse group of men and women from a variety of occupations.

"Our players are retired teachers, general foremen, skilled trades and housewives," Beatty said. "We try to shape our game on casino rules, and we play mostly casino games, with a few of the old kitchen games thrown in. Our only rule is no wild cards."

Tim Burton, 59, of Swartz Creek discovered the Davison club when he drove his wife to a class on ornamental grasses at the center.

"I was going to just wait in the car and read until she got out," he said. "But she heard the sound of chips coming from one of the rooms and came out and told me, 'They're playing poker in there.' I've been coming ever since."

There are no dark, smoke-filled rooms. The focus is on fun and fellowship. The banter is constant, but good natured ("A $5 pot doesn't create much of an argument," said Burton). Cookies are the preferred snack, and the strongest beverage is Diet Dr. Pepper. The last hand is dealt at 9:15 p.m.

Most of the gang have been playing poker for years. Jack Orser, 80, of Davison learned to play five-card draw while serving in World War II. Bunny Brewer of Davison (who stated her age as "old enough to know better") has been playing cards "forever."

During a recent game, Brewer bet a dime and won a dollar on a game of seven-card stud, high spade in the hole. At the next table, Rayner won $5 with a straight.

"He'll probably get a headache now and go home," joked Beatty. In the next game, he told Brewer, "I don't want to take all your money, so I'll fold."

Meanwhile, Dombrowski chided player Grace Mikulich of Davison when she hesitated on making a bid: "It's just a quarter, Grace. It won't hurt you. Just put it in fast."

Russ Cockerill, 83, who is legally blind, depends on his opponents to report aloud what cards they put down across the table.

Do they always tell the truth?

"How would I know?" he quipped. When losing a recent game, he accused his table-mates of "taking advantage of a blind man," but retracted the accusation when he won the pot.

The Davison group has room for a few more tables of players, Beatty said.

"We won't turn anyone away, and new players are welcome. We've got a world of patience here, and if they need help learning, we'll help them."

The Swartz Creek River Rats is another local group that formed long before the present poker craze. The diverse group of 36 men and women has been playing monthly for 11 years.

"We play no-limit Texas holdem, just like you see on TV," said Sam Chambers, 62, of Genesee Township, the self-described "founder, chief cook and bottle washer of the group."

"We're proud of having started this before the craze started," Chambers said. "We've got players in their 20s and in their 70s, from all occupations. We've got fathers and sons, mothers and sons and brothers who play together."

The group started when Chambers' brother, Tony, invited him and a few friends over for a game.

"There were 10 of us who played together for about a year," Chambers said. "We got along so well, we had a blast. I could lose and it didn't matter. I'd laugh all the way home."

The group grew through word-of-mouth and now follows a tournament format that includes a point system, cash prizes, traveling trophy and Hall of Fame.

The latter began as a tongue-in-cheek nod to the poker Hall of Fame at Binion's Horseshoe Casino in Las Vegas and includes photos of the local tournament winners in a traveling display case.

Chambers' wife of 38 years, Bonnie, belongs to the group, as do their niece and nephew, who became interested in the game after watching televised poker.

"We're getting young people and people who have never played before, which is great," Chambers said. "We're happy to help them learn. We're intense, but not intimidating."

Club members love watching the poker tournaments on television but wouldn't trade their more modest games, Chambers said.

"Someone once described professional poker as 'the hardest way to make an easy living,'" he said. "It's not the kind of life anyone in our club would want to lead."

Nor is it the career a mother would choose for her son. But Nancy Chapman of Flushing supports her son, Brian's, weekly poker game - as long as the stakes are low and his grades are high.

"He and his college friends play on Friday nights," she said. "The stakes are low because none of them have any money. He's carrying a 4-point average in school, so it's not interfering with that. Besides, I'd rather have him in a group, staying at home on Friday nights than going out to the clubs."

Brian Chapman, 22, is an accounting student at Michigan State University who got interested in Texas holdem from watching the televised tournaments, his mom said. He bought his dad poker chips for Father's Day and then asked to borrow them back. Next, he built his own Texas holdem table. Now he's trying to teach his mom to play.

"The best part is that we finally know what to get him for Christmas this year," his mom said. (Since this story will be published after Christmas, it's safe to say that Brian's gifts include a metal "Las Vegas Boulevard" sign for his apartment, as well as playing card-themed neck tie, cufflinks and boxer shorts).

What they lack in glamour, small, low-stakes poker groups make up for in stress-free entertainment, said Tim Burton, one of the Davison Senior Center players.

"I'd be afraid to go to the casinos," he said. "I might win and get hooked. I like it here, where you don't have to worry about anything. It's an inexpensive night out, cheaper than the movies. It's a lot of fun."