"What is poker?" my young daughter asked. A classically innocent, seemingly uncomplicated question. But, after providing her with the barest answer: It's a card game played for money," I continued to consider it further. For those of us who have an intense relationship with the game; for whom it is a vital part of our life and identity, poker is a lot of things. It is agony and ecstasy, frustration and fulfillment, delight and despair. It'll make you cry, or wonder why; make you pray or make your day.

A mean game, poker is life on the street, survival in a hostile environment. A player must rely on skill, cunning and luck to stay alive. Justice is coincidence; fairness is folly.

It is hand-to-hand combat. It's the shootout at the O.K. Corral. On a given night you're John Wayne, able to defeat any opponent. At other times, you're General Custer.

Poker is paradox. You've got to be aggressive, but cautious. You have to be conservative in order not to lose, but you must take risks in order to win. You not only need to have wisdom, but you must also have the daring and discipline to follow it. Every hand is an adventure. You may not choose to take the trip this time, but you know it's only a matter of time before you shove off. Hopefully, you will fulfill your fantasy and become Hercules in Heaven - holding the sacred Lock". Of course, watching your victim suddenly turn into a monster at the 7th and final step to the Temple of Chips is every player's nightmare.

When the game goes according to plan and true to the odds, it can be deeply satisfying. Like a religious experience, it renews your spirit and redeems your faith. At other times it can stun your senses and cause you to question your very understanding of reality.

Although it may take its toll on the body and mind, it is not a physically demanding endeavor. Yet, the stress and anxiety can short-circuit nerves, generate ulcers and strike-up strokes. So, what is poker? It is competition, confrontation and contradiction. It's uncertainty. It's a lot of insecurity punctuated on rare occasion by exhilarating omnipotence!

And how do you know if you're a Player? For this columnist the moment can be pinpointed. In 1973, when Washington State legalized poker, only a few lower-end-of-town sawdust joints dared spread it. They didn't have professionally designed tables or even center dealers; the deck just passed from player to player. As the Public Relations Director for the County Planning Dept., I thought I should check it out. I did.

The first day I walked into a joint I went to the rail and watched. I was dumb-struck. Despite the smoky haze it was instantly clear to me that here was the right school of fish that I was supposed to be with!

A few weeks later, and to a lot of people's dismay and condemnation, the guy the local newspaper described as an up and coming young man with a bright future" resigned. Since then, poker has been my pleasure and my profession. Mel Gibson has his passion; that day in 1973, I found mine.