Well, here we are in the month of January. It seems only yesterday that
I was sitting in one of the restaurants at the Rio Hotel. The year 1998
had just begun and I was reading the new edition of the Card Player
when I came to the column by Nolan Dalla. It was the column called
“1997 Player of the Year.” It listed the top twelve tournament players
for 1997. For those who don’t remember Nolan’s player of the year, it
was Men the Master with T.J. Cloutier coming in second – no surprises
there.
After I had finished reading the column, I remember thinking maybe I
should give it a shot and try to get on the list or maybe even win the top
player award. I always enjoy competing and here was a contest that I
could compete in. I began to analyze the scoring method that Nolan
was using and very quickly realized that I would have to play a lot more
tournaments than I was used to playing. Finally, my debate with myself
ended and I decided to go for it.
At that moment in time I set a goal to play enough tournaments to give
myself a chance. I knew my biggest problem was going to be getting
myself motivated to play in the smaller buy-in tournaments.
I also remember thinking that I wasn’t going to tell anyone what I was
going to do. Many of the players argue that the only important thing is
the money. They “poopoo” anyone competing just for the sake of the
challenge. The money is the thing. You know, “Show me the money.”
I started the year in less than an auspicious way at the Rio, but before
long I got hot. I won’t bore you with every individual win or cash but by
World Series time I was having a good year. I also had not told anyone
what my silly little goal was. After all, why would anyone try to win an
award that paid zero, zilch, and nothing but a write up in the Card Player
Magazine?
The interesting thing about the World Series was that an incident
happened that made me see that it was not only me that was so
competitive as to compete for an illusion like some sort of ranking. Let
me explain. Everyone knows of Doyle Brunson. He is respected, even
revered in the poker business. Most guess that Doyle is very well off.
He has won everything there is to win and has all the respect in the
world. He is a living legend in the poker world.
When Doyle won the Razz event at the 1997 World Series, the following
appeared in the write-up of his victory. “I’m always happy to win,”
Brunson said while acknowledging that he would not normally enter
lower buy-in events. “The reason I played this one and will play others
at this World Series is that I wanted to pass some players ahead of me
on the list.”
When I read that, I said thank God there’s someone who is on the same
page I am. I thought that if I ever find an appropriate time I’m going to
thank Doyle for being so honest. It embarrassed me to think I would
probably have lied if I were Doyle or at least just not mentioned why I
had played more tournaments. I decided from that point on I would not
be embarrassed to admit I was going for an award that paid nothing
and that I was doing it just for the challenge and plain old satisfaction.
Before I knew it, 1998 was coming to a close. As the year’s end
approached, I happened to find myself sitting across the table at
Foxwoods Casino from none other than Mr. Nolan Dalla. There I made
good on my promise, as I told him how his “Player of the Year” column
had, in a round about way, caused me to have a good year. I thanked
Nolan for having his little contest and told him that I thought it was an
interesting, fun thing and good for the poker world.
I also told him that if I were to make his list, I would like to write a
column illustrating the point of how competitive people are not motivated
only by money. Money sometimes is just the byproduct – a very nice
byproduct.
For what it's worth ...
I was sitting in one of the restaurants at the Rio Hotel. The year 1998
had just begun and I was reading the new edition of the Card Player
when I came to the column by Nolan Dalla. It was the column called
“1997 Player of the Year.” It listed the top twelve tournament players
for 1997. For those who don’t remember Nolan’s player of the year, it
was Men the Master with T.J. Cloutier coming in second – no surprises
there.
After I had finished reading the column, I remember thinking maybe I
should give it a shot and try to get on the list or maybe even win the top
player award. I always enjoy competing and here was a contest that I
could compete in. I began to analyze the scoring method that Nolan
was using and very quickly realized that I would have to play a lot more
tournaments than I was used to playing. Finally, my debate with myself
ended and I decided to go for it.
At that moment in time I set a goal to play enough tournaments to give
myself a chance. I knew my biggest problem was going to be getting
myself motivated to play in the smaller buy-in tournaments.
I also remember thinking that I wasn’t going to tell anyone what I was
going to do. Many of the players argue that the only important thing is
the money. They “poopoo” anyone competing just for the sake of the
challenge. The money is the thing. You know, “Show me the money.”
I started the year in less than an auspicious way at the Rio, but before
long I got hot. I won’t bore you with every individual win or cash but by
World Series time I was having a good year. I also had not told anyone
what my silly little goal was. After all, why would anyone try to win an
award that paid zero, zilch, and nothing but a write up in the Card Player
Magazine?
The interesting thing about the World Series was that an incident
happened that made me see that it was not only me that was so
competitive as to compete for an illusion like some sort of ranking. Let
me explain. Everyone knows of Doyle Brunson. He is respected, even
revered in the poker business. Most guess that Doyle is very well off.
He has won everything there is to win and has all the respect in the
world. He is a living legend in the poker world.
When Doyle won the Razz event at the 1997 World Series, the following
appeared in the write-up of his victory. “I’m always happy to win,”
Brunson said while acknowledging that he would not normally enter
lower buy-in events. “The reason I played this one and will play others
at this World Series is that I wanted to pass some players ahead of me
on the list.”
When I read that, I said thank God there’s someone who is on the same
page I am. I thought that if I ever find an appropriate time I’m going to
thank Doyle for being so honest. It embarrassed me to think I would
probably have lied if I were Doyle or at least just not mentioned why I
had played more tournaments. I decided from that point on I would not
be embarrassed to admit I was going for an award that paid nothing
and that I was doing it just for the challenge and plain old satisfaction.
Before I knew it, 1998 was coming to a close. As the year’s end
approached, I happened to find myself sitting across the table at
Foxwoods Casino from none other than Mr. Nolan Dalla. There I made
good on my promise, as I told him how his “Player of the Year” column
had, in a round about way, caused me to have a good year. I thanked
Nolan for having his little contest and told him that I thought it was an
interesting, fun thing and good for the poker world.
I also told him that if I were to make his list, I would like to write a
column illustrating the point of how competitive people are not motivated
only by money. Money sometimes is just the byproduct – a very nice
byproduct.
For what it's worth ...
Thanks to Nolan and Doyle
By Vince Burgio
By Vince Burgio
