A Game for Fred

From 2002 through 2006 I played in a regular home game in the Hancock Park area of L.A. with half a dozen other fellows.  We met every other Wednesday night at 7:30.  I was brought into the game by my coworker Dan G. and that was where I met Jason H., Tony G. and Tom L. - all, as you know, longtime regulars at the current Pepper Street venue.

I also brought Allen Q. into the game, already a good friend.

But there was another regular at the game, his name was Fred and he was a great and enthusiastic member of the game.  He was especially good at teaching us new games and explaining them expertly.

Let me back up.  The game we played was a cash game, but it wasn't anything near what we play today.  For starters - it was a $10 buy in and the chips were in denominations of nickels, dimes and quarters.

NICKEL

We played in that game for about 5 years, and I'm not kidding when I say the question of "How much is this chip worth?" always came up at least once a game.

Anyway, the game was substantially different from what goes on in my garage because we didn't play standard casino games, aside from the occasional round of Limit Hold-Em or Omaha/8.

We played "Follow the Queen", "High Chicago", "Bundles", "Shove It", "Anaconda" - and many, many other outstanding variations of the game we all know and love.

We rolled our cards.  We bet, declared and showed.  Action always started with the high card in stud and with the last to bet in Hold- em or Omaha.

DIME

We could never have too many wild cards.  And though trips or a flush are monsters in the poker at Pepper Street, in Hancock Park we usually had boat over boat - and we often had to remember that five of a kind beat a straight flush.

We had an amazing time, week after week.  Everyone got to see a flop and everyone took turns at being the weeks big winner.

And though variance was reduced by the low limits, fixed betting and a seemingly endless amount of wild cards - it was still poker.  We still got to know each other, and in the last few years of the game we had all figured each other out pretty well.

QUARTER

And perhaps no one knew us all as well as Fred.  He was the king of speculation, what some may at first glance think is a calling station.  But Fred knew his poker, and he knew that he was getting the right price most of the time.  He knew he had exactly 37 outs and it was another 50 cents into a 7 dollar pot for a chance to hit one.  Most of us, at least at the start of that game, had no clue what outs even were, let alone how many we had.

But Fred was not only a winning player in the game, he was also one of the nicest people I've ever played cards with. And his enthusiasm for the game was infectious.

I've often said to friends that the game in Hancock Park planted the seed in me that grew into a passionate love of poker.  I would have to say that Fred more than anyone in that game initially stoked the fire in me, simply because his heart was so big and open and his love of the game was worn so proudly on his sleeve.

And that was Fred all around, and not just in slinging cards.  A super sweet guy who was an open book and didn't appear to have a single mean bone in his body.

Interestingly, he was the absolute polar opposite of me politically.  Farther left than almost anyone I've ever known, and that's saying a lot as I grew up in Berkeley.  But Fred being Fred, I couldn't help but love the guy - and he never ever ever gave me any guff for my fascist right wing views, beyond an occasional raised eyebrow or gentle rejoinder.

Fred was very political but also knew that politics only mattered so much.  On the felt everyone was equally strong and equally vulnerable, and as Americans he and I both loved the game for that.

Alas, the game in Hancock Park eventually wound down and ended, as most home games eventually do.  Eager to get my fix I started hosting my own game, and Fred came and played a few times that first year.

But with a chance to create a game of my own, I was very interested in trying the poker I had been watching on television - No Limit Hold-Em tournaments.  Fred didn't really care for this brand of the game, to him it was simplistic and brutish. As with our politics, Fred and I simply agreed to disagree on this point.  I still kept in touch with him, though for sure not as much as I should have.

Three weeks ago I got a call from Tony.  Fred was in the hospital with a torn aorta, and was not doing well.  Within a week he was gone.

This was, to put it mildly, a shock to my system.  Not even 55 years old, Fred leaves behind a wife and 3 young children.

I never knew Fred away from the poker table, but the time I spent with him playing cards (3 hours every other week for five years) was truly high quality.  I was proud to consider him a friend in this capacity, and I have been missing him more and more as the days go by.

Tony, Tom, Jason, Dan, Allen and I were all beyond stunned to hear the news that Fred was gone.  Especially heartbreaking because Fred's kids are now without a father.

Tony suggested we have a game to raise money for a gift for Fred's family.  We all thought that was an awesome idea and decided that the best way to honor and remember him was to get together on a Wednesday night.

Tom said afterwards that the night "...was indeed a perfect tribute for our old card-playing comrade.  It was a strangely moving, yet fun, night of poker-playing, and I feel honored to have been a part of it."

I absolutely could not have said it more perfectly.

We all bought in for a standard PSP cash night, we then all matched that amount and set it aside for Fred's family.  Because the buy in amount was modern, but the games and limits we were playing were old school, we ended up with a GANG of chips.  That is, way too many - but it sure made for a lot of fun splashing around.

Think we have enough?

The first game of the night was called by Tony and it was Fred's favorite (or at least the most outlandish one that he had brought to the game) - "Elevator".  From there we made a grand effort to get through all the home game variations we could remember.  And it was a hell of a great time.

It was also a pretty hilarious trying to remember all the different crazy games with endlessly complicated rules.  Games that we played over and over and over again for years - we had mostly forgotten.

But one thing that did come right back to us was just how fun these games were.  No doubt Fred was watching and laughing at us playing "Bundles" and "Baseball."  Allen couldn't help himself and had to walk away from the felt with his cards and take a picture of them, while the hand was still going on.

Standard Anaconda starting cards.

Most and best of all we got to share lots of stories and memories of Fred.  It was an amazing evening.

Allen also had a few thoughts about the night and of Fred that he shared -


"As I played cards and reflected on my memories of Fred, I found myself thinking back to a home game I had been graciously invited to attend.  Here we played limit games, silly games (elevator, bundles, baseball).  

My first impression of Fred was one of a quiet thinker, one I was going to have to watch out for.  I soon learned that Fred really enjoyed the camaraderie, and the fellowship of the game.  I am not saying he was not competitive, just unflappable.  While we moaned and spluttered around the table, Fred sat serenely, looking amused.  

Fred always reminded me of a  composer or musician in his mannerisms, I found out right away that he worked in the film business as a First A.D., and Second A. D.  I had the pleasure of working with Fred on a small feature, and several of us reminisced, Fred would never look at the schedule and say "What are you crazy?" He would however say "That is very ambitious"  That just seems to conjure up who Fred was, a man confident enough to express himself with out making you feel like an idiot for having said or done something stupid.  

He was a gentleman through and through.  Fred I am better for having known you.  

You are missed."


And at the end, when it was time to cash out - Tony asked for me to put his winnings into the envelope for Fred's family.  And at that moment, all of us knew that that's what we were all going to do. And we did.

It's hard to put into words, but I think more than anything the night brought for me personally was a chance not only to remember Fred, but to remember Fred's greatest gift that he gave me in regards to the game of poker.

He taught me, not so much in words but in his actions and demeanor, that poker first and foremost should be fun.  Fred knew that No Limit Hold-Em was a game of frequent heart ache and that's why he avoided it.  Masochists like me don't mind a bit of pain, but at the same time I need to remember his prime directive - have fun or don't do it.   Thanks Fred.

You left far too soon and we all miss you terribly.