November 9

Panic is crippling.

I don't normally gush about people or events I find fascinating. For those closest to me, you KNOW that one person I can gush consistently about is David Tennant and not feel an ounce of embarrassment in the world. He's a gentleman and a scholar--oh, and a damn good actor.

That's not what this post is about, though. This post is about a Dark Horse. OK, so on the poker circuit, he's certainly not a dark horse among peers, but he's a Dark Horse in my book.

From 2005-2009, I went to school with Joe McKeehen. Joe McKeehen is a professional poker player from North Wales, which is not far from where we went to high school at LaSalle. There was 250-something kids in our graduating class, and, before I go any further, I will not claim that we were some kind of butt-buddy friends, because we weren't. That said, we generally sat at the same lunch-table with a cavalcade of other mutual friends.

As far as me and Joe go: We laughed about dumb things. We argued about even dumber things. Generally, though, we maintained a decent acquaintanceship through our high school years, and we continued that acquaintanceship in the following years--though our contact definitely dwindled.

It wasn't until some time last year, just as summer was approaching, that I noticed his Twitter/Facebook posts detailing that he had a final table on an off-shoot tournament at the WSOP (World Series of Poker) in Las Vegas and that it would be featured live on the internet with play-by-play analysts and everything. Another mutual friend of ours from high school, Matt, had also heard about this and saw that I showed interest in watching from commenting on one of Joe's final table-related posts.

Matt and I watched Joe as closely as a teenage girl would watch a pit-level Backstreet Boys concert from back in the 90's. Joe's demeanor stayed firm and steady the whole time while he slowly chipped away at the 8-man final table to make it to heads-up (final 2) play. Meanwhile, Matt and I were freaking.

"Joe should look for a hand he KNOWS he can push in on," I said acting like a junior poker analyst.
"Oh! Baited him into the bet!" Matt retorted.
"He's reeling in the fish! Yes, Joe! HERE COMES THE TRAIN!" Analogies about just about everything would fly to my fingertips as I typed to Matt. All of them were stupid. But all emotionally charged analogies from a tired student watching poker into the wee-hours of the morning will be. As my high school Trig teacher Mr. Rad would say, "It's the nature of the beast."

Joe ended up losing that night, but he was a major winner in our book. Poker--we're talking Texas Hold'em, here--is far from an easy game. There's a type and a ridiculous amount of mental, emotional, and sometimes even physical fortitude it takes to play hour after hour without bleeding money. Joe. Did not. Panic. There were times Joe made it look like a walk in the park; an ice cream cone on a hot day; a piece of cake, and other terribly cliched analogies.

So, why am I considering Joe a Dark Horse? It's simple: The journey.

Think about this for a moment: Joe, for all intents and purposes, graduated high school, and then pursued a career in professional poker almost immediately--while he went to college!! Do you have ANY idea how ridiculously difficult it is to do that? To fund yourself as a poker player coming from ANY time in life, you have to win to keep going or else your career is ridiculously short-lived. For that, Joe is a Dark Horse, but don't expect his competition to look at him that way.

Ultimately, Matt and I watched greatness unfold (fold, check, bet, raise, and re-raise) a year ago. And now, the world is witnessing Joe's greatness.

Today, Joe is the big stack going into the WSOP Main Event Final Table--the November 9, they're called. The last 9 people in a poker tournament that started with thousands of people. Anything can happen. In the last 7 years, only 1 person with the Big Stack going into the final table came out on top.

To Joe: I don't care if you win or lose. Right now, you're on top of the poker world, and all the greats are recognizing. You are now among them. Even if you lose, they will know for the rest of their careers that you are not someone to take lightly. I wish you luck. I wish you the same mental and emotional strength that you have shown thus far at the final table. And overall I'm ridiculously proud of you and could not be happier for you.

I look forward to watching you in November, and I hope I can get you a few more supporters with this.

All the best,

PatInTheHat