From the vantage
point of a fellow player, I have frequently witnessed the nigh invariable
success of Billingsley's matchless poker—stud and draw—and have heard it
described on countless occasions as defying analysis. Now, having finally
mastered the subject, at the expense withal of many of the little luxuries that
might otherwise have come to me at this stage of life—if not, in fact, a few
downright necessities—I am setting down this analytical study for future
Before writing, I
carefully secured confirmation of the statement, "Billingsley will come to
the game late," from several of the players whose memories are reputed to
be as reliable as my own. Billingsley has never been to a game on time yet.
Now the obvious
result of such a course of conduct is that Billingsley will avoid having to
help count out the chips and will likewise escape a number of other growing
pains that attend every game, including:
1) The argument as
to "who the hell is going to bank this game anyway?"
2) The discussion
and arbitration over how the banker's mistakes will be handled when the
settling up is done.
3) Putting the
beer on ice, paying for it and pinching the first pots to cover.
4) Calling Ames, a
regular player who never gets away from home until after he has been called
several times on the phone.
5) The slow start
when all pots are fairly small and hardly worth the employment of much
6) The dangerous
play by Fielding, who usually has a date at 9.
7) The ringing of
the telephone by the wives of some of the players who merely wish to check up
on their whereabouts.