The Making of a Poker Player

Author: Matt Matros
Publisher: High Stakes
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Learning to Play 7

mathematical computing class. Programming is essentially logic. If this happens, then do that. If not this, then do something else. Poker can be approached the same way. Should I bet? If there is x amount in the pot, then yes. If there is less than x, then is there a chance your op ponent will fold? If not, should I check and then fold, or check and then call? You could carry out these "if-thens" forever, which is what makes the game so intriguing.

My program didn't know any strategy and made all betting deci sions at random (oh, to have a player like this in my games today). If I were to take up this project again, I would try to make it execute all of the strategy described in this book. But back in high school, I had trou ble getting the computer to even print playing cards on the screen. I never had a finished product, but I had the beginnings of a lifelong cu riosity.

At 5 a.m. on Christmas morning, 1995,1 was an eighteen-year-old in the backseat of the family station wagon on my way to Long Island-Mc Arthur Airport. My father had reasoned no one else would be flying at that time (correct!), so what better time to head out for a winter va cation in sunny Phoenix, Arizona.

I didn't want to go on the trip to begin with. I had a girlfriend at home whom I hadn't seen much during my first semester in New Haven, and instead of being with her for the next six days, I would be doing God-knows-what with my family in the middle of the desert.

After reaching our condo, getting fed, calling my girlfriend to wish her Merry Christmas, and taking a nap, I found one thing to like about Arizona. The legal age for gambling was eighteen. By seven and a half months, I was permitted to enter a casino and make wagers however I chose. I only wanted to play poker.

My father is an action junkie, so he gladly took me out for a night at Fort McDowell Casino, located just outside Phoenix on a Native American reservation. The only poker game being spread that I'd played back home was Seven-Card Stud. With $11 in my pocket, I walked to the ATM to withdraw a hundred bucks. I had expected to re ceive more than one bill. Welcome to the world of casinos, where hun dreds play, twenties cannot be found, and fifties are just annoying.

The dealer did have three twenties in change for me when I bought