After the '98 World Series of Poker – Where Did All the Money Go?

After winning my bracelet in '98, I was given a sense of freedom I'd never had before. Up until that point, $10,000 was a huge bankroll to me. I had never seen $100,000 before – and now I had it.

I'd heard stories of people going broke after winning a big tournament, but I was too "smart" to let that happen to me. How could I possibly go broke with that big a bankroll? Hang on, I'm about to tell you.

I used to go to a tournament and grind my butt off trying to scrape up enough money for the buy-ins. Well, with my newfound bankroll, that wasn't necessary anymore. I could go to L.A., and comfortably play whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. Ah, freedom. Then …

The Attack of the Railbirds

Man, was I green. The day after I won the tournament, it was impossible to get from point A to point B without having somebody ask me to loan them money or stake them in a tournament. Believe me, I tried! When I saw a railbird coming toward me, I made a quick right turn past the slot machines, only to run into another railbird "stalking his prey" by the satellite area.

I was dead in the water. Ill-equipped to deal with railbirds, I was easy prey. It got to the point where I would give people money just to get rid of them. It felt similar to having vultures pecking away at my flesh while I was trying to wave them off with $100 bills. The problem was, once I waved off the first group of vultures, there was another group waiting around the corner for me.

Maybe I should be a little bit more clear as to what a railbird is. Railbirds aren't necessarily bad people; they are usually just down on their luck and looking for a helping hand. Most have every intention of paying you back, but, unfortunately, many aren't equipped with the poker skills or discipline to make that happen.

And some are just bad people. They'll con you into thinking they are good for it, and have no intention of paying you back – ever. I ran into both kinds, and was duped by both, as well.

I can still remember my first trip to L.A. after the World Series of Poker. I played at Commerce Casino for about two weeks. In that span of time, I won a tournament and beat the side games pretty good. I went to L.A. with about $60,000, and after two weeks, I was down to $35,000. How the hell did that happen? I know I couldn't have spent that much on movies and room service at the hotel.

At the time, I was staking a few people who must have been the unluckiest players in the world or didn't play as well as I thought they could. I was playing $100-$200 just trying to get even for my "horses'" losses in the $15-$30 game! Winning $1,000 a day just wasn't cutting it.

So, there went my $100,000 bankroll. After a few months of being picked apart by the vultures, I was back grinding it out in live-action games again. I was still in better shape than I had been in before winning the bracelet, but I was not in the shape I had envisioned for myself at that point.

I then was taught the most valuable piece of information I'd ever learn. Greg Pappas helped me work on this interesting concept: "No!" Oh, that felt good. "No! No! No!" Greg helped me sound out the word at first until I got the hang of it. He even drilled me from time to time: "Hey, Danny, can I borrow $1,000?" "Sure, Greg, no problem … oops! I mean, no!" "Ah, much better, Daniel." For the record, I didn't make this story up – it actually happened during my training.

Training was hard, as I had to make some adjustments. I got so good at saying no that I just couldn't wait for my next victim. Actually, I felt very bad about one incident: Shortly after my lessons, an "RB" was approaching me. Before the railbird uttered a word, I yelled, "No! I don't have any extra money for you!" "Relax," the man said, "all I want is a light." Oops, maybe that was a little too strong, I thought.

Maybe not, though. After going insane on people who asked me to put them into a tournament, they stopped asking. I'm not quite as insane anymore (I've gone through therapy after surviving Greg Pappas' boot camp), but I no longer feed the railbirds. I have slipped up a couple of times, but then I hear Greg Pappas' voice screaming into a megaphone in the back of my head: "No, soldier! Put that money back in your pocket!"

I do have friends these days whom I trust with money, but the list is much shorter than it was back in '98. There's really nothing wrong with lending your buddies money from time to time, but don't lend money you can't afford. Your buddy might be good for a $300 loan for two weeks, but if all you've got is $800, you might want to think twice.

As far as railbirds go, do what makes you feel comfortable. If you want to take a shot on somebody, by all means, go ahead. Just don't risk so much that you let their results dictate whether or not you'll go broke.