Choir Practice is not a how-to-play manual for poker. Rather, author Ray P. McCord explores the origins of the game and how it quickly became the modern American phenomenon it is today. He considers the complex cultural conditions that helped make the game one of the most popular recreational and professional games in our culture. Is poker really gambling-or is it something else? Choir Practice is a distillation of McCord's fond remembrances from more than seventy-five years of intermittent poker play, bolstered by his intensive research into the subject. Primarily it discusses poker in general with an emphasis toward the most popular game of penny-ante hi-lo, McCord's personal preference. It began as a paper written for a class three decades ago and has since evolved into a more focused study of the game, the sociological impact of the game, and a study of the people who play it.

CHOIR PRACTICE

THE LORE AND LURE OF POKERBy Ray P. McCord

iUniverse, Inc.

Copyright © 2011 Ray P. McCord
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4620-5058-1

Contents

Acknowledgements.............................ixIntroduction.................................xiI. Inception.................................1II. Members of the Choir.....................5III. Lessons Learned.........................9IV. Poker's Evolution........................15V. Name of the Game..........................19VI Notoriety.................................21VII. The Wild, Wild West.....................23IX. Mucho Machismo...........................27X. Success or Failure........................29XI Bluff or No...............................33XII. The Whangdoodle.........................37XIII. Luck o' the Indian.....................41XIV. Maximizing the Odds.....................45XV. Finale...................................49*Bibliography................................51Afterword....................................53

Chapter One

INCEPTION

* * *

Once upon a time, irregularly, not at the same place nor on the same date, but roughly at the same time on a Friday evening once each month, a select group of individuals gathered together for an activity known as "choir practice." This gathering was almost as inevitable as salmon swimming upstream to spawn or the migration of birds. The mechanism by which the members gathered was complex, consisting of repeated phone calls of entreaty, cajolery, threats, confirmation, and sometimes personal confrontation. Usually, by default, one member of the group confirmed that a quorum would be present and assured all the others that this was true. The minimum number for a quorum was six, with the magic number of seven being desirable. Rarely was the true purpose of the gathering spoken aloud. Usually the phone calls were brief and cryptic, consisting of such messages as "Choir practice ... seven thirty ... my house" or "My house ... be there ... Friday night." However, sometimes there were extended conversations about availability of regular members, possible alternates, compatibility of suggested alternates, results of the last gathering, and the possibility of procedural changes.

Waiting for a Real Game

Occasionally, the purpose of the gathering was referred to as a game, and the members of the group understood that the name of the game was poker, most often that variety known as hi-lo. With rare exception, this group met regularly and was referred to as "select" because alternates were thoroughly tested as to compatibility, playing ability, and possible conflict of interest. Those who did not qualify were not selected nor retained for participation. Being a game, and a game of cards no less, poker requires rules, regulations, and at the very least, guidelines, such as the ones illustrated in later chapters. One of the first guidelines agreed upon by the choir was that the dealer would name the game, whether it was stud, draw, or one of the many variations thereof. Another was that a joker would be included in the deck of cards to provide more variety of hands and increased probability for winners. The joker served as a fifth ace, and as a wild card in straights and flushes. Another was that the hand itself declared the winner. After much discussion, it was determined that the lowest hand was the "wheel," or ace through five, and the highest hand was the "royal flush", or ten through ace, all of one suit.

Chapter Two

MEMBERS OF THE CHOIR

* * *

After inception, the "choir" seemed to grow just like Topsy, although some participants theorized that some esoteric form of osmosis was at work to bring a cohesive, coordinated, dedicated band into being. The original group consisted of six members: the Colonel, Dix, Three Fingers, CC, the Big Guy, and the Freeloader. Others drifted in and out to fill the seventh spot, namely two different Bobs—one a graphic artist, the other a craft work planner; Jack, Andy, Blair, and Kyle; and others who attended too infrequently to remember. If asked, the original members all claimed to be winners. Over time they probably really were winners because of their long-term relationships with one another and familiarity with one another's foibles. The infrequent attendees usually were losers just because of their infrequent attendance.

The Colonel was called this because of his longstanding intermittent efforts to qualify for a military pension. After thirty-six years, he finally achieved his goal. He became the target of choice of all the members of the group who delighted in outdoing him during practice. At one gathering where he was host, not only did they eat every crumb of his furnished snacks and drink almost all of his superb homemade apricot wine, but they also absconded with twenty-five dollars of his money. Of course, this was a low point in the Colonel's choir career.

Dix was called Dix because he just didn't like his first name, preferring his middle one, which was "Dix." When mentioned at all his first name was represented by the letter R. Being a real church choir member would have been entirely appropriate for him because of his ability at times to assume an innocent, angelic baby face, which usually fooled nobody in attendance. In contrast, on rare occasions, he would exhibit a fierce demeanor that sometimes was a bluff and sometimes not.

Three Fingers sometime, somewhere, lost two fingers on his right hand. This loss was never discussed by the group, nor voluntarily explained by him. It certainly did not detract from his capability to deal cards or to participate in a major role in the choir, and it lent an air of mystery to his persona. His was a steadying and calming presence, which at rare times was needed to arbitrate some dispute.

CC was the only single member of the group whose singleness did not detract from his participation. He was usually late to practice but always had some wildly amusing possibly plausible excuse. A US Navy veteran, at least once during the evening he would regale the group with some tale of past exploits while on shore leave or aboard ship. He both amazed and amused, and he never once repeated himself.

Freeloader was assigned that addition to his given name of Fred because of the Red Skelton comic character "Freddie the Freeloader." For some reason, the appellation seemed to fit. He oftentimes ambushed and surprised the other members of the choir with his ability and deceptive demeanor. Freeloader was also one of the members of the hunting group, as was the Colonel, the Big Guy, and Dix. Some of them also played golf together

The Big Guy was just that—big! He was not totally outsized, nor was he out of proportion. Luckily for his hunting companions he was strong enough to haul a deer out of a canyon by himself. Like so many big men he, like Three Fingers, tended to keep a calm demeanor, at least while participating in choir. He rarely missed a game, although he had a 50 mile round trip to attend.

The choir became an excellent example of the whole being much more than the sum of its oh-so-disparate parts! Each member, including alternates, had varying degrees of personal or job-related communications with the others during the workdays, belonged to one of two related organizations, and were generally considered middle class. At least five similar poker groups were identified within the organizations mentioned above, and some regular members of one group were sometimes considered as alternates for other groups. All the groups played dealer's choice, limited-bet, and mostly hi-lo poker. One group had a maximum of fifty cents bet at a time, with three raises allowed. The rest were limited to twenty-five cents, all with varied rules and procedures.

Although each group considered itself unique, this was contradicted by the fact that many millions of Americans, (to say nothing of people in other countries worldwide) are gambling billions of dollars annually at poker. It can be safely said that the game of poker appears to be so inextricably entwined with American culture that it is almost impossible to separate one from the other.

Chapter Three

Lessons Learned

* * *

This time he had him! It was draw poker. He had been dealt a pair of twos and three other cards of no use, which he traded for three replacements, and he got another two and two aces in return. This time he would beat his uncle. But when he bet ten stick matches instead of the normal one or two, his uncle tossed his cards in. When asked why, his uncle explained that it was obvious because of the outsize bet that he'd been beaten. His uncle also explained that if his nephew had made a "normal" bet, he would have called or maybe raised, and his nephew would have won more matches with such a hand. His uncle also explained that even with only a pair of deuces, he could have bluffed, using the same sized bet, making his uncle think that he had a sure winning hand and causing the same result. A few hands later, the nephew decided to try the bluff, but his uncle matched his bet and won with a better hand. This time, when asked why he didn't toss in his cards, his uncle replied that he knew that his nephew was bluffing because he couldn't sit still—he was wiggling all over the place. The boy determined that he would forego bluffing and sit still, no matter what, in the future.

This whole episode took place not in a smoke-filled saloon, smoky bar, or some so-called place of ill repute, but in a smoke-filled one-room shack with a lean-to at the back. The lean-to had room for a bureau and a bed, and the shack contained a cast iron wood cook stove, a sink, a table, shelves for dishes and groceries, and a daybed. There was a window in one wall and in both doors, one in the front of the shack and one that opened to a path leading to the privy out back. At one end of the table sat a shortwave radio, emitting a feeble amount of light from its backside and spitting static and occasional faint sounds of music or a voice from its front. On opposite sides of the table sat a man and a ten year old boy with a deck of cards and an open box of farmer's matches on the table between them. One sixty-watt bulb dangled from the end of a cord hanging from the center of the ceiling, dimly illuminating the space. Cigarette butts were piled high in an ashtray at the man's elbow. The boy was growing sleepy, and his eyes burned from the cigarette smoke and staying up so late, but he did want to hear Big Ben striking the hour from London as his uncle had promised. He had gotten permission from his folks to visit his uncle just for that purpose, with the possibility of maybe even hearing Russian from Moscow, or Japanese from Tokyo, or Indonesian from Djakarta. An added benefit was that he knew that eventually he would get a foreign stamp for his collection from a postcard that confirmed that his uncle had indeed heard the radio station at a certain time and date. It was soon time, and sure enough, right on schedule, Big Ben's clanging bell could be heard by short wave from London, England, all those miles away. For whatever reason, there were no other stations to be heard that night, so the boy and his uncle decided that it was way past time for bed. And with Big Ben still resounding in his head, the boy drifted off to sleep.

The sergeant in charge came through the train car and announced that they had ten minutes to sample the coffee and doughnuts provided by the women at the station where the troop train had just stopped. There was a scramble to do just that. The poker game could wait. Shortly, all were back in their seats, with one troop sitting on a box in the aisle, with two in each seat in front of him. Someone said that they were in Utah, but he couldn't confirm it with anyone else. The group rearranged the flat piece of cardboard on their knees, one member shuffled the deck of cards, another made the cut, and the game resumed. This time it was five-card draw, and as he spread the cards in his hand, he couldn't believe what he saw. He had four aces and a queen. Naturally, he raised the first bet and everyone called. He tossed the queen, asking for one card. Two of the others argued whether he was trying to complete a straight or fill in a flush. He raised his cards in front of his face and spread them to make sure that he really had the hand that he thought he had, just as someone passing in the aisle behind him gulped and said loudly, "Oh my God." Now he knew how it felt to want to kill! And where the expression "Play 'em close to the vest" came from. In an attempt to salvage something, he bet the limit and watched as each player in turn tossed in his cards, leaving him a paltry sum instead of what should have been a real bonanza. He had had enough. He stood, gave his box seat to an eager replacement, returned to his hard passenger car seat, and sat mulling over what might have been. Over the ensuing years at other poker games he often heard the same story as having happened to someone else, one of whom was his own son.

"There I was, flat on my back, at twenty thousand feet, both engines gone." He had decided that the Air Corps mantra for any real or imagined misfortune certainly applied. Four months ago, he had arrived at his assignment, a troop carrier squadron based on Leyte in the Phillipines, and he had already flown to Milne Bay and Hollandia in New Guinea; Pelilu, Morotai, and Zamboanga on Mindanao, where "the monkeys have no tails," as one of his dad's songs went. While there, try as he might, he never did find any monkeys, let alone monkeys with no tails. There were three squadrons in the wing, all flying C-46 Curtis Commandos, which was ironic because he had sworn that he would never fly in something that couldn't shoot back. So much for that bit of bravado! Between flights, there wasn't much to do except eat, read, drink, or play cards. The problem was that when he played poker, his money disappeared so quickly that usually he had very little left at the end of two weeks into the month. Luckily, he was sending money home to be deposited in his bank account, but even so, because of his ineptness at playing high stakes poker with the senior members of the squadron, he had lost the better part of four hundred dollars in just four months. He had finally come to realize that he didn't have to play every hand to the end, and that there was absolutely no reason to try to fill any card missing inside a straight! He decided that he would continue to play only "penny ante" poker, which he did with great success, and before he came home, he won back what he had previously lost in the high stakes games. For the rest of his life, he was a winner.

Chapter Four

POKER'S EVOLUTION

* * *

Thomas Jefferson did not know what he had wrought. Or did he? Concerned with possible loss of the use of the Mississippi River from French control of New Orleans just after France's recovery of the Louisiana Territory from Spain Jefferson sent a delegation to Paris to negotiate the purchase of the city for the United States. Napoleon, apparently being concerned with attempting to defeat England in turn offered the whole Louisiana Territory for the sum of fifteen million dollars. This seemingly outrageous amount in reality was less than a paltry five cents an acre for a wilderness that stretched from the Mississippi River to the Rockies. In order to make the purchase money had to be borrowed from England, and on April 30, 1803 Jefferson authorized the purchase. Just as Seward's later purchase of Alaska was called Seward's Folly it would seem that Jefferson's purchase of the Louisiana territory could have been called Jefferson's folly, and possibly with better justification. However, next, Jefferson authorized the 1804-1806 Lewis and Clark Corps of Discovery trek through the wilderness and on to the Pacific and back. This whole series of events justified the United States claim to what came to be known as the Wild, Wild West, and guaranteed that the Mississippi River would remain available for use by the new American nation.

Hand for As Nas

Although there are no records, evidently it was sometime in the early 1800's after Jefferson's purchase that some of the French residents in New Orleans developed a game using a pack of twenty cards consisting of aces, kings, queens, jacks, and tens. This game possibly derived from a Persian game called as nas dating back several hundred years. It too consisted of a pack of twenty cards but of lions, kings, ladies, soldiers, and dancing girls dealt out to four players The limitations involved with only a twenty card deck and four players precluded any game other than showdown after betting, but did include the possibility of bluffing. There was no consideration of straights or of flushes as winning combinations.

With the Mississippi River guaranteed open to commerce the game of poker quickly spread upriver with the stern wheelers. Gradually it was adapted to the pack of fifty-two cards, which meant that more than four players could play, and increased the variety of winning combinations of cards, and of types of games. The draw appears to have been introduced during the Civil War, when soldiers on both sides spread the game's popularity. Straights and flushes arrived sometime at mid-century. and stud and jackpots came in sometime later to complete the evolution of the game to the forms known today.

Up the Mississippi

During this period, as poker spread upriver, and later to the West, the popular game of faro was gradually replaced in upscale saloons and especially in the low dives in the ramshackle towns along the Ohio and Mississippi River Valleys. The presence of professional gamblers on the river boats although somewhat exaggerated certainly contributed to the speedy acceptance of the game. Poker whether penny-ante or high stakes was (and is) a connoisseur's game, demanding several skills besides that of having the well-known expressionless demeanor. Other characteristics which contribute to excellence in playing the game are the ability to read body language, and some degree of acting talent. Gin poker, whiskey poker, and rum poker were variations that used lesser skills but offered the same high degree of excitement. (The bibulous names were probably applied to the variations on poker because of the sordid atmospheres in which they were played). Thus gin, whiskey, and rum poker finally became gin rummy, and `rummy' subsequently became a family name to be applied to any of the numerous games involving the principles of melding and sequence collecting. The other general family group of games includes those in which certain cards are trumps (a corruption of the word "triumph") with which players can make "tricks." (A trick is a collective term for the cards—usually four-played and won in one round. This group includes the contract bridge and whist series of games.

Chapter Five

NAME OF THE GAME

* * *

Although the origins and development of the game itself seems to be well known, the origins of the name of the game are somewhat obscure. Poker could be derived from poque, a French card game, but poque evidently was a game of the whist family. Indeed, at one time an attempt was made to trace poker to poche, the French word for pocket Another possibility may have come from a call by non-bidding players in a German game pochspiel which call was Ich-poche. Is it even possible that poker was derived from the Hindu word pukka? Finally, another theory, and there may be more, is that, poker could originally have been underworld slang coming from the pickpocket's term for pocket book or wallet: poke so as to fool wary prey who knew the term as to what they were really after.

Besides the term "poker" itself, talk around the poker table has introduced many colorful phrases into the American language. Used in many contexts are chip in, four-flusher, high roller, I pass, joker (one not to be taken seriously), I fold, two-bit- hustler, poker face, stand pat, pass the buck, pass me, ace in the hole, call your bluff, penny ante chiseler, show down, aces, close to the vest, cold deck, and many other pokerisms ingrained into our culture and spread around the world.

(Continues...)

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