Dojo Poker Nights

You gotta read the last handful of Friday posts to be up to speed on this series of tales on fisticuffs if you haven't yet. Week 1, Week 2, Week 3, Week 4, Week 5 and Week 6.

Sidebar: This is typically a Friday post but it is being swapped out for a more important, less hilarious but equally enraging issue. Tune in tomorrow. For now, enjoy.

Back before the World Series of Poker was a TV sensation, HMT and I used to hit a local apartment with Sensei Clause and other members of our dojo for a little poker. The games were tense: Texas Hold 'Em, 5 Card Draw and Guts to name a few. The stakes were high: Minimum $10 Buy-in with a certain exception and $.25 bets. Make no mistake, even with a friendly game of poker among fellow students and random friends, Sensei Clause's integrity still bursts forth like the bosom of The Kissing Bandit.

As you recall from last week, the man we come to know as Sweet Petersen would come along to the games as well. However, this particular Poker Night was to be graced with a special treat. If anyone was to let me in on this wonder of the world I would have never been able to concoct a more brilliant role for this individual. Friends, Sweet Petersen has a brother that was not only coming to Poker Night, but Sweet Petersen happened to be the more suave and debonair of the two.

From here on out Sweet Petersen's brother will be known as Stoic Resolve, you'll find out why later. For starters, to tickle the palate, Stoic Resolve one-upped Sweet Petersen in the category of fashion sense. Sweet Petersen thought he was king shit with his bomber jacket until Stoic Resolve showed up with brown pants and a forest green shirt and his forest green faced watch to match. Holy fuckin shit, HMT and I about fell out. This wasn't some subtle green tinge around the rim of the watch, it was as bold as the shirt itself. A true ladies' man. Stoic Resolve also wore a pair of glasses that might even give the gift of sight to Mr. Magoo were he to put 'em on. His physical shape could only be considered one if he were placed into a gelatin mold and to top things off he was about as outspoken as Chris Tucker minus the wittiness and any shred of evidence that he had a personality. The guy said what he meant and meant what he said.. there's your 30 second brief on Stoic Resolve.

Now, Dojo Poker Nights was the one night every week or every other week that the older gents from the dojo could get together, have a good time and relax. We played for peanuts bcuz it wasn't about making money, it was about camaraderie and building up morale within the "higher" ranks in the dojo. As Dojo Poker Nights became more of a buzz, this code was broken and the riff-raff of the dojo was allowed to come partake in the festivities. I took an opportunity to bring in this guy named, Juan. Juan was a kid from the wrong side of the tracks, I met him at college and he didn't have much money. He was extremely interested in martial arts and I hooked him up, with Sensei Clause's blessing of course, to be on a payment plan that would allow him to come practice a couple nights a week for a discounted fee. He was dedicated, smart and loved the art. He was one of my favorite students and one of the first guys I signed up for classes once I became an assistant instructor. When I would invite him to play poker he would opt out of most but was able to scrounge up a good $5 from time to time.

On with it! We are at the apartment champing it up. Tonight is no different than any night, the deck goes clockwise and whoever's "turn" it is, they pick the game we play. In the meantime, Sensei Clause shuffles the other deck in between plays. This has been the way for about 2 months now I would say. We pretty much have our normal repertoire of what games we all like to deal out, rarely do we deviate from the games we pick. All of a sudden I get a nudge under the table by HMT. I give him a nod and he points, I see Sensei Clause shuffling the cards on his lap, per the norm, but glancing down at his lap very sinister-like every now and then. My stomach turns, the hand is done and I get up to take a break.

HMT follows me out to the balcony. I am furious, all medical knowledge would have jets of steam coming out of my ears, but for some reason this wasn't happening. With a clenched fist ready to be shook, I expressed my disgust for Sensei Clause but we also weren't absolutely sure yet. HMT and I both wanted to believe otherwise.. nothing bad was happening, not till we had more proof.

HMT and I return to the table and we keep our eyes locked on Sensei Clause as inconspicuously as possible. Before we know it, three games shuffled and three games typical to what we usually pick when it comes our turn, Sensei Clause has pulled out three amazing hands. I'm talkin either one or two royal flushes and probably a four of a kind or some such. Either way, there was some lucky shit going on. Enter the horse whisperer.. Stoic Resolve.

Up to this point in the night, I haven't paid too much attention to Stoic Resolve. Between his nervous fidgeting and those dabs of saliva on the sides of his mouth that have morphed into a white paste and are slowly crusting over, I can't seem to look him in the eyes past his glasses that could very well be a meter thick. One thing that's for sure about Stoic Resolve is that he knows no fear and knows less finesse. Poise and subtlety are mere words without meaning to this man, for after such insane hands won by Sensei Clause the gears in his head have turned toward conspiracy.

Stoic Resolve eases into Sweet Petersen like Tiger Woods into a birdie putt. With the keen eyes of a cat burglar, Stoic Resolve glances from side to side all along the table to ensure secrecy. He licks his lips like a gunslinger ready to draw his pistol for the duel of his life and whispers as silent as a marshmallow hitting a pile of feathers, "I think your Sensei is cheating."

Only, he didn't whisper. Not only did he not whisper, he forgot to use his indoor voice. From across the table HMT and I hear him as if he was addressing us! Every time I picture this in my head I cannot help but think of the time Homer Simpson was going under the Witness Protection Program. The cops are conditioning him to begin responding to his new alias, "Mr. Thompson." Hours and hours pass as they keep telling him, "Hello Mr. Thompson." Homer never responds to them as they surely aren't speaking to him. With pit stains on their starched button up dress shirts, sleeves rolled up and cigarette butts piled in the ash tray one of the cops tells him, "Listen, Homer, when I stomp on your foot and say 'Hello Mr. Thompson' you respond!" Homer nods in compliance and when this is done, Homer leans in to the cop next to him, much like Stoic Resolve into Sweet Petersen and says, "I think he's talking to you." Bottom line, Stoic Resolve's delivery of this secretive comment was so undisguised but he thought his delivery, had he been in McCarthy's shoes, would have made his stand on Communism look duplicitous.

At this point, Stoic Resolve's cover is blown but he doesn't know it. There is an awkward pause at the table, Sweet Petersen's forehead beads up with sweat and turns red but Stoic Resolve adjusts himself in his seat like Al Bundy and holds his ground as if nothing happened.. much like an assassin that has blocked his adrenaline flow after
a fresh kill. Staring death in the eyes and too slow to realize it, Stoic Resolve has confirmed HMT's and my worst fear.. that Sensei Clause is a complete and utter piece of shit.

Yup. Our frikkin Sensei Clause, cheating. Cheating all of us out of our lousy $10-20 week in and week out. Sure we won some weeks and lost others, the bottom line is the games were manipulated. Clause would predict hands every now and again and whenever he did he would always get them right. When he wanted you in the game he would deal you the winning hand or a strong hand that would bait you into betting more. It was just all too revolting.. repugnant, if I may be so bold. Needless to say, that was the last night I went to Dojo Poker Nights and one of the last times I saw Juan. To know that the poor guy would come out with literally $5 and get cheated out of it more often than not, absolutely crushed him and me.

HMT kept it under our belts and away from his doting followers. The games eventually dissolved but fuck were we pissed. This was the beginning of the end. That fuckin' punk ass Sensei Clause. As the stories of the dojo wind down to the last few and final what will happen to Sensei Clause? What will happen to HMT and Northe? Next week's episode is finally Sensei Clause's comeuppence.. or is it?