Hobby stopped at my condo to pick me up for a Saturday lunch. "C'mon in for a minute, Hobby. I want to show you something." It was a miniature deck of cards a friend gave to me. It was about half the size of my pinky fingernail.
"What is it?" Hobby asked as I put it in his hand.
"It's a deck of cards."
"Wow! It's amazing," he said, squinting his eyes as he tried to read the markings. I handed him a magnifying glass. "The face cards have incredible detail. I've heard about artists who paint with a single hair to make miniatures. This must have taken years to make."
"It would if done by hand, but these were made in Silicon Valley on photographic equipment used for making integrated circuits."
"Can you get a deck for me?"
"You can keep that one. I have another. You've got that look on your face. What do you have in mind?"
"Tomorrow night we're playing poker at Dick Green's house and Chuck Thomas will be there."
"So?"
"You know Chuck, whatever you have to say he has to tell you one better. I'll try to suck him into bragging about small decks of cards. Maybe you can help."
"Yeah, that might be fun."
I loved going to Dick Green's house when it was his turn for our monthly poker game. He owned a New York style deli and put on a buffet that was to die for. Hobby and I brought margarita makings and another player brought a small keg of Sam Adams.
After pigging out for about an hour the eight of us sat down to play. Chuck Thomas was there telling about the 220-pound tuna he caught off La Paz after another guy told how he caught a 60-pound albacore. Hobby was eyeball-nudging me to set up the miniature card deck story, but I shook my head and quietly said, "Later."
When I go to our monthly poker bash I take five bills with me ... only. There are others in our crowd who also set limits, but a few, Hobby included, dig a whole lot deeper on occasion. I had been getting the kind of cards that were just good enough to get me into trouble, a lot of pictures and mid-sized case pairs. If I had a jack-queen in my hand the flop might be king-queens mall with no prospects for a flush or straight.
You hate to bet heavy with second-highest, but you have to give it some life while doing your best read on opponents. I was good at working my strategy, but every time I contributed to the pot I came up empty. My bankroll was at half-mast, so I decided to adopt Hobby's short-stack strategy. His recent maneuver for playing in tournaments was to emulate the hawk making selective brutal kills, but if that failed and he was down on chips, he adopted the turtle strategy. I was going turtle.
"Joe, are you sick or something? You haven't been in a hand for a long time."
"Can't help it, Tom, I'm getting crappy cards."
The next hand, in the cutoff position, I had an off-suit trey and 6. Four or five players made the call. When it came to me I said, "All-in." As I had hoped Tom, who was on the button said, "Joe finally got his big hand. I fold." It was an amateurish play on my part, which I wouldn't have tried in Vegas, but it worked here. Everyone folded. It's funny how a break in a losing streak can bring more good luck. Mine certainly took a turn for the best and soon I had my head above water. It was time for me to make the set-up for Hobby's little deck of cards.
"I saw a group of little people on TV playing poker and they were using a deck of cards much smaller than what we use," I said. Another player said, "Yeah, you can buy cards that are about half-size."
Chuck Thomas had to get into the discussion. "Actually, I have a deck of cards smaller than a postage stamp."
To move it along I said, "You sure, that's awfully small."
"It sure is, and you should see the workmanship, like on the face cards," Chuck elaborated.
It was time for Hobby to plant the hook. "Chuck, take one of your postage sized cards and cut it in half, and half again. That's the size of the deck I have."
Chuck was getting red around the collar. He hated to be bested. Usually the gang let him have the last word just to shut him up. They were enjoying this exchange. "Hobby, you're full of crap," Chuck said.
"Now, that's not a nice way to talk to your friend, but frankly I'm getting tired of you taking bragging rights."
Chuck blustered, "Well screw you, Hobby. Put up or shut up."
Hobby just smiled, looked at the buffet table and said, "What if I bet you $500 I have a deck of cards that would fit into one of those olives."
"I'd damn well take you up on it." He withdrew bills from his pocket and slapped them onto the table. "Here's my $500. Where's your deck of cards."
Hobby went to the buffet table and took his time before he selected an olive. He put it onto a napkin and returned to his seat. "Okay, I said I had a deck of cards that would fit into an olive like this."
Chuck was beaming, "Yeah, you going to put up or shut up!"
"Here's my $500," Hobby said and then put the olive between his teeth and bit into it. He extracted the tiny deck and spread its cards on the green.
"You set me up!" Chuck screamed. "Screw you guys, I'm leaving."
The guys were falling off their chairs laughing and didn't even notice Chuck's departure.
Write to author David Valley at: dvalley1@san.rr.com
