Every poker player learned to play poker at a home game. The participants traditionally cross generational lines, and the older players teach the younger players the fundamentals of the game. I know that in our home, we learned to play poker from our Dad.
Dad and his friends would gather every couple of months or so for a game at our house. We weren't allowed to be part of Dad's game when his friends were there. No, that game was for adults. We got our poker lessons during the week at the dining room table after dinner. Once we had been apprised of the basics of poker (7 Card Stud), we would play cards with each other or with our cousins. Cards became part of our lives; and when we got together with our cousins you could be sure that a card game would part of the festivities.
When my brothers became Dads, our Dad would spend time with his grandchildren (both boys and girls), teaching them the finer points of poker. He started teaching them Poker when they were just five or six years old. And Grandpa did not pull his punches. He didn't "let" the kids win. The cards fell as they were destined to fall. If the grandkids had the best hand, they won. If they didn't have the best hand, they lost. Yes, Grandpa taught his grandchildren how to lose as well as how to win. Since losing is a fact of life in poker, Grandpa felt that it was only fair to teach his grandchildren a lesson about life, as well as a lesson about Poker. The kids learned not become upset because they didn't win. That's a heck of a lesson about life.
My Dad rarely went about teaching life lessons. Yet life lessons were learned by being with him.
From my Dad, I learned about charity. Not because he taught me, but because he showed me in the charitable things he did. From my Dad, I learned about doing the right thing. Not because he taught me, but by watching him do the right things year after year. From my Dad, I learned about love. Not because he taught me, but because of the love he showed me all the days of my life...until the day he died, two weeks before Christmas eight years ago.
I miss my Dad. I think of him often, especially around the holidays. But the lessons that I learned from him, I carry with me every day. And my love of poker started with my Dad.
THAT he taught me.
Dad and his friends would gather every couple of months or so for a game at our house. We weren't allowed to be part of Dad's game when his friends were there. No, that game was for adults. We got our poker lessons during the week at the dining room table after dinner. Once we had been apprised of the basics of poker (7 Card Stud), we would play cards with each other or with our cousins. Cards became part of our lives; and when we got together with our cousins you could be sure that a card game would part of the festivities.
When my brothers became Dads, our Dad would spend time with his grandchildren (both boys and girls), teaching them the finer points of poker. He started teaching them Poker when they were just five or six years old. And Grandpa did not pull his punches. He didn't "let" the kids win. The cards fell as they were destined to fall. If the grandkids had the best hand, they won. If they didn't have the best hand, they lost. Yes, Grandpa taught his grandchildren how to lose as well as how to win. Since losing is a fact of life in poker, Grandpa felt that it was only fair to teach his grandchildren a lesson about life, as well as a lesson about Poker. The kids learned not become upset because they didn't win. That's a heck of a lesson about life.
My Dad rarely went about teaching life lessons. Yet life lessons were learned by being with him.
From my Dad, I learned about charity. Not because he taught me, but because he showed me in the charitable things he did. From my Dad, I learned about doing the right thing. Not because he taught me, but by watching him do the right things year after year. From my Dad, I learned about love. Not because he taught me, but because of the love he showed me all the days of my life...until the day he died, two weeks before Christmas eight years ago.
I miss my Dad. I think of him often, especially around the holidays. But the lessons that I learned from him, I carry with me every day. And my love of poker started with my Dad.
THAT he taught me.
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