The King of Kansas City Lowball

A buddy of mine, Martinson Agunga Agunga, who owns some underground casinos in the Boston area, called in an old favor recently. His poker pro had a death in the family, and he needed a stand-in at this big tournament down in Atlantic City. I was a little apprehensive about playing after my last experience in London-- almost four months later and I still can't look at a can of crab meat without feeling nauseous; but this was a big favor that Martinson was calling in, and I couldn't refuse.

There was another issue. I am a fairly accomplished poker player, don't get me wrong: I won a World Series of Poker bracelet in 1999 in pot limit Omaha, and another in 2000 in Razz; but the game we were playing in the tournament was Kansas City Lowball, which is an almost extinct form of poker that I had little experience with. That's when I realized I'd been duped by my buddy. It wasn't that his player couldn't make it, it was that he couldn't win. That's because the King of Kansas City Lowball, Earl McKriedivitch, was in the game. For some reason, he wouldn't play any other type poker, and for some other reason, no one could beat him at his own game. I was called in to accomplish this previously unattainable feat.

No one really gives a shit about Kansas City Lowball, so much so, that the tournament that I was in had a first prize of $25,000. The real money was being made between Martinson and Phil Helmuth, giving him 5 to one odds that I couldn't ding the King, with a potential payout of $500,000.

Good.

I spent the early part of the tournament reading Nikolai Gogol's Dead Souls, while other players were bounced out around me. I played just enough games to give me some chips for the later rounds. Once we were there, I had no trouble taking everyone's money, because they had no idea how I played due to my earlier inactivity. Earl and me were on a collision course to wackiness.

Earl had never played a certified poker pro before, and when we met at the final table, I made sure my bracelets were jangling off my arm. He played tight, and started trying to see things that weren't there. I never even got a chance to play him heads up. He was done with five people left. It was kind of a let down.

I took the money I won from the tournament, and flew out to Hong Kong to get some new tailored designer suits.