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The Honolulu Advertiser

Posted on: Friday, February 11, 2005

COMMENTARY
When you're Moneymaker, chips are stacked against you

By Jake Coyle
Associated Press

I have stared directly into the Oakleys, and lived to tell the tale.

Accountant Chris Moneymaker, 28, who won the World Series of Poker in 2003, is working on several poker-related projects.

Advertiser library photo • May 2003

Playing poker with Chris Moneymaker, the accountant who came out of nowhere to win the 2003 World Series of Poker, is a bit like shooting hoops with Michael Jordan — though lady luck can even the odds slightly.

But Moneymaker (yes, that's his real name) is many things not seen on the frequent ESPN replays of his historic Vegas run. For starters, he doesn't even wear those trademark Oakley sunglasses.

"I use them only for the big games," he says.

This isn't a big game?!

"Well, I'm not going to say that. Big-money games, where I might get nervous. I haven't worn glasses in a while. They're more bothersome to me."

Well, our game was admittedly not big money. It was for, ahem, no money. But the stakes were still very real for the eight players (amateurs, including myself) the Associated Press brought together recently to compete against one of poker's biggest names.

The game of Texas Hold 'Em was played at a Manhattan poker club. It packs in a crowd of mostly twentysomething guys on a nightly basis, many of whom caught the poker bug from the much televised hold 'em games. But they are far from alone in today's full-fledged poker boom.

In 2003, the sport (if you can call it that) became a surprise hit for ESPN, which recently released a DVD of its eight hours of World Series coverage. On it, you can again watch Moneymaker's unlikely rise to the final table, where he ended the tournament (and won $2.5 million) with a full house, two hands after a dramatic bluff against vet Sammy Farha.

That particular hand, where Moneymaker bluffed his way to win more than $6 million in chips with just king high, deserves a spot in poker lore. That's a place Moneymaker already resides in, having ascended to the pinnacle of the game in his first tournament.

But the average guy in the baseball cap has indeed changed. For nine months following his big win, Moneymaker, 28, remained an accountant, but as the poker boom grew, he realized the financial prospects at his door. Now with an agent, the Tennessee native has a video game due for this spring, an autobiography in the works and is in talks for a made-for-TV movie.

And here he was, sitting at the AP game.

Moneymaker passes his first couple hands, and explains, "If I get good hands, I'll play. I just don't play much early. Playing at a single table like this, the idea is just don't go broke early."

After settling in, Moneymaker says that his strength is reading people, specifically their betting pattern.

"You play with one guy, say, for example, him." Moneymaker points to Josh Kolenik, a 25-year-old musician. "He gets a top pair, he always bets it out. If he pops a set, he doesn't bet, he checks it and bets small on the turn and then he'll break huge if you raise over the top."

This analysis comes five minutes after meeting Josh, and after only three hands which he mostly spent eating a ham sandwich and talking to me. Josh later informs me this was precisely his strategy.

Soon the table loses its first player.

After again missing a straight draw, Moneymaker loses to Josh's pocket eights but recoups some chips in another hand.

Nevertheless, Moneymaker finds himself low and needing to take a chance. With pocket sevens, he sees his opportunity, pushing in his small stack of $200. But Karen Janowski, 38, a math teacher, sees his bet, prompting this exchange:

Karen: "I can be the one to knock you out. That would be sooo cool."

Moneymaker: "I don't like the way she said that. The way she said that, I'm in trouble."

Trouble, indeed. Moneymaker walked right into Karen's pocket aces.

With Moneymaker on the ropes, chairs are pushed out as everyone stands to watch the turn and the river. Moneymaker cheers: "I just need a seven, that's it, no ace." After a queen on the turn and a jack on the river, the table erupts.

As just the third player knocked out, Moneymaker's exit may have been early for a world champion, but in every game, he might as well have a bull's-eye on his back.