Before I get started, allow me to introduce myself; my name is Eric Sagong and I am sixteen years old (a junior in high school). I attend A&M Consolidated High School and am failing damn near all my classes. I am an aspiring poker player and hope one day that this game will earn me a good living (hoping beyond hope is more like it). If all else fails, I can always turn to writing :-)

For those of you who remember, I posted a question to the group about getting started playing poker (thread title: Poker - Getting Started). Little did I know just how soon I would get started playing casino poker.

Just so you know everything in this story is true.

My story begins on Monday, January 24, 2000. After getting in one of those typical teenage skirmishes with my Mother on Monday, I decided for some odd reason that I was gonna run away (this thought crossed my mind several times, but I never really had the balls to follow through). That night, I began to pack my bags and prepare for my trip to God-knows-where. After gathering up all my valuables (LOL) I called the Greyhound hotline and found out that I could either go to Los Angeles or Las Vegas for $125. It was kind of a toss up, but I figured what the hell, I could always go to Vegas after L.A. if I had enough money.

I made my Mother aware of my plans that night, but I had a feeling she really didn't believe me. I asked her if she would drive me to the bank to withdraw some money (I wound up taking 700 dollars with me). She later told me she thought that I was only half-serious and would change my mind later on. Boy was she wrong! The next morning, once she realized that I had set my mind to traveling, she took me to the bank where I promptly withdrew $700 in twenty dollar bills (they asked me what denomination and I figured twenty was good for me). I then called the Greyhound 800 number to find out what time the bus from College Station to L.A. would be leaving (the journey actually involved several transfers, but hey, let's not nitpick!).

At around one o'clock I called the local taxi service to arrange to have someone pick me up at one thirty and give me a ride to the Greyhound station. At close to one thirty I started getting really nervous because I would have to sneak out of the house (my Grandmother was still at home) and wait for the cab in my front yard. The cab arrives right on time, and I make nervous, idle chit-chat with the driver. The cab ride is twenty bucks wich leaves me $680 dollars to work with. Next, I go into the station and buy a bus ticket, which costs close to $120 (I got a discount for making an extra transfer, or something like that). This leaves me (damnit you do the math!) to work with, and I begin calculating expenses on the trip from C.S. to Dallas.

So far my itenerary involves visiting the Bicycle Club and getting Johnny Chan's autograph (just so you know I accomplished neither during my little voyage). I meet this dude in Dallas and we hit it off. I tell him what I'm planning to do and he gives me his number and tells me to call him if I wind up stranded.

The bus trip is uneventful (well, I did take up smoking along the way) and I wind up in L.A. at approximately 9:45 p.m. Of course, by this time damn near everyone on the bus knows of my hairbrained idea, and a few people wish me luck as I depart. I get off the bus and look for some hotel information, I go to the back-lit display they have at the Greyhound station and find something called a hostel (kinda like a hotel, only real shitty) and decide to stay there.

The next morning I wake up tired as hell since I couldn't get any shut-eye at all because the goddamn heater wasn't working in my room. I walk down to the end of the hall and try to take a shower but there isn't any freaking hot water. I stick my head in the sink, apply an extra dose of deodorant, and search the yellow pages for the nearest casino. I can't find diddley squat in the phone book so I call information and ask for some help. The operator gave me the closest casino nearest my location (Hollywood) and I call the cab and ask the driver to take me to the L.A. Casino (wherever the hell that is). The dude doesn't know of any L.A. Casino and we spend about 20 minutes trying to find the place on his map. By this time I'm shaking like a freaking leaf, and I say f--- it. No part of my trip has been planned, why start planning ahead now - "Driver, take me to the nearest casino that you know of" I say.

"That would be Hollywood Park," he responds. Figuring anything with Hollywood in the name can't be all that bad, I decide I might as well go there. I ask if they have poker he just laughs at me like I'm the biggest dumb ass in the world. I pay the him about 25 bucks for the ride which leaves me -- dollars to gamble with (you're doing the math, remember?).

I go to the casino, and check my luggage in with the concierge. After this, I start prancing about the casino looking for the "board" to get my name on the list for a Hold'em table. Just so you know, until then the only poker game I ever played was 5-card draw so I had to read up on the hold 'em rules while I was at the Hostel (Mike Caro's Fundamental Secrets of Winning Poker is where I got my info). I walk up and down the casino but I can't find the freaking board (because they have the thing sideways so you can't really see it unless you walk into the poker area and do a one eighty). I decide to swallow my pride and ask the floor manager where the hell the board is so I can sit down for a game. All the while, I try to sound a LOT older than I really am and pray to God in heaven that my voice doesn't crack and my acne doesn't show too bad.

He points me in the right direction and thankfully, doesn't card me. I dash over to the board and lucky for me there's an open seat. I sit down at the 2-4 hold 'em table and pretty much wing it. I'm so nervous that I have to look at my pocket cards about ten times because I keep forgetting what I'm holding. By now I've also forgotten the rules, so I pretty much do whatever the person behind me does.

Now, keeping in mind that I don't know any rules, I decide to be bold and bluff for a few hands (I've bought in for 100 dollars so I have some room to play around with). I'm in the hand with about 3 other people and the river has already been exposed. This is where I try to make my first bet. The dude behind me calls 4 bucks and I say "I'll call four (put four dollars in the pot) and RAISE four (and put another four dollars in the pot)." This is what they do on T.V. right? This gets everyone at the table staring at me as if they would like nothing more than to get a baseball bat and beat the living shit out of me. "You can't raise yourself, sir," and leaves it at that. No one bothers explaining the rules and reasons behind why I "can't raise myself" and I don't bother asking. The game goes on and I'm riding a roller coaster. Sometimes I'm 25-40 bucks down and sometimes I'm just above even. This is when I should have stopped.

Oh, by the way, I've got another highlight: I finally figure out how this "raising" thing works and I put eight bucks in the pot (call 4 plus raise 4) but I'm so nervous and my hands are shaking so badly that I just take eight dollars worth of chips and throw them in the MIDDLE OF THE POT. This also gets everyone pissed, but the dealer calmly began sorting out my one dollar chips from everyone else's one dollar chips. Upon realizing what I've done, I apologize emphatically and hope to god they don't lynch me. Lucky for me the player to my left vouched for me and said that he saw me count off eight.

Back to my story. So while I'm at the table, once I figured out how to raise (properly) I was so damn proud of myself that I just kept right on a'raisin' with my pocket 4s and 7s and all. Let me explain; I'm raising for the hell of it (remember when you were a kid and you flushed the toilet over and over again?) but people think that I've caught a run of really good cards. I manage to steal several pots and work my way back up to around 20 bucks over even. I start bluffing people out, and I figure why ruin a good thing? Of course this all ends once I get called several times and people look at my pocket cards and realize that I don't have shit.

For some reason this doesn't deter me. I keep on bluffing like I've been dealt a string of pocket aces. I finally wake up (after losing half my stack) and realize that this really isn't a good strategy (especially if you've run away from home and have no money). So I play REALLY tight. I must have folded before any cards went on the board about 5 times in a row, which is a real deviation from my previous style of play. Keep in mind it's about 12 noon Thursday and it's not like I'm surrounded by tourists. They see that I'm playing tight and now I can't get anyone to bet into me when I've got killer hands. This pisses me off so I go back to bluffing - a move just about everyone sees right through.

I believe those in the poker business call this "going on tilt". I've just watched my $120 something dollar stack dwindle down to one stack of $15 and not only have I gone on tilt, I've pretty much committed poker suicide. Naturally, everyone sees that I'm short stacked and desperate and it doesn't take long for the rest of the vultures at my table to clean my carcass bare.

I leave the table and count the rest of my $20 bills (about 400 some bucks left). I'm one hundred dollars stuck and I go outside for a smoke. I meet up with this friendly black man and tell him my story. He tells me his story (he owes 700 dollars). And I ask him if he has any ideas how we might build up our bankrolls again. He suggests that we go buy some fake watches (Rolexes and the like) and try to come back to Hollywood Park to sell them.

So I spend about $250 buying these fake watches (cab fare included) and we go back to HP to sell the things. You guessed it, there aren't many people in the market for knock-off watches sold outside a casino by this black dude and his shady looking Asian friend. We spent the WHOLE NIGHT trying to sell the watches and I wound up stuck about 175 dollars. This depresses me. I give up all hope of making my money back and decide to go back into the casino smoke room and set myself on fire.

This Hispanic gentleman sees me and says "Did you loose all?". For the most part I have lost it all because not only do I barely have enough money to get back home, I might not even have enough money to get back to the Greyhound station (cab fare). I tell him this and he's very sympathetic. He says that he'll drive me to his house where I can crash and he'll take me to the Greyhound station in the morning. This makes me very suspicious, but I'm dead broke and have nothing more to loose (aside from my bus fare and my virginity). I sleep in his house and wake up the next morning glad to still be alive and have the rest of my meager bank roll.

He takes me back to Hollywood Park and tells me he'll be back at around four. I've got no money so I bum around for about 3 hours and I figure that I might not be able to find him. I've been sitting in the smoke room for a while and this young black lady and I start up a coversation. She listens to my story (I've told her my age - 16), reaches into her purse and asks if I need money. I tell her I don't wanna be a bum, I don't really need money, but I SURE COULD USE A RIDE TO THE GREYHOUND STATION.

She does me a big favor and gives me a ride, and I am very grateful to be getting a chance to go home to Mommy dearest. I promise her over and over that I will indeed go home, and she says 'bye and leaves. I buy a bus ticket back to College Station and damn near break my ass on that Greyhound for all 30 something hours of my trip. I left on a Friday and wound up getting there early Sunday morning.

My beloved mother (who I'm no longer angry at) smiles at me when she sees me waiting outside the bus depot. Needless to say all is well and I went back to school the next day, gladly sharing my story with all my friends and classmates who were willing to listen. I even showed them the photographs I took on my way to the casino and my souvenier 1 dollar poker chip.

If you're still reading (you have no life :-), I'm quite anxious to publish my story (this is just a ROUGH, ROUGH, version) and any help or information you can provide. I can verify my story with several people (including the school guidance counselor and my English teacher, both of whom knew about the trip after my mom informed them of my "journey"). I've also got pictures (none inside the casino because they don't allow photographs) to back up my story. I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get this story published because I think it's pretty damn interesting. So again, if you can help me, please do.

Published with the permission of the author.
Reproduction without the author's permission prohibited.