The Beginning of It Allby Ian Simpson | Published: Jul 01, 2012 |
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“What do you mean three?!” “You heard, I open for three.” It was just so unprecedented. Three. My brother had just opened for three and we hadn’t even drawn any cards yet. Three whole match sticks. It was a turning point in the history of poker. At least poker from my perspective. Of course we all called. I mean, how could we not? We still had cards to draw, anything could happen. Mum, soother of temper tantrums, draws four. I draw one since I’m holding two pair, and Dad, teacher and in many ways the Godfather of Cramlington poker as we know it, draws one. AC (brother, bully, best friend) draws none. Well we had learned enough about the game by now to know what that meant. Straight or better. A force to be reckoned with certainly. But here’s the thing. I fill up. Big time. That magical third ace ...
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