Delroy Lindo

Delroy Lindo is best known for his role in Spike Lee's Malcolm X. Also, for not losing his stack when he gets dealt kings against my aces. He just calls my raise preflop, then makes the minimum raise over my continuation bet on a paired board. Since he's played passively so far, I consider trips a definite possibility and just call. The turn checks through. Now I think he was either bluffing on the flop, in which case he won't bluff the river, or else he has a weak pair, so I make a small bet of about a quarter of the pot, hoping to get called. He quickly calls and turns over kings. GODDAMNIT!!!!!!!!!

There are few sure things in poker, but one is that when you get dealt kings against aces you're supposed to lose your whole stack. The way he played the hand was bad, ridiculous really, but in this case it worked perfectly. You got me, Delroy.

Actually I've never heard of Delroy Lindo, but Steven, the mid-30s online poker pro/yoga instructor sitting to my left, has informed me that that's who it is. He recognized him right away but couldn't remember his name, so he surreptitiously took a picture with his phone and sent it to his brother. Neither of us have told Delroy Lindo that he is Delroy Lindo, because we're respecting his privacy.

Meanwhile, I'm having one of the best sessions of my life. All my bluffs are working and when I make a big hand I'm getting paid off. I have total command of the table. In a couple hours playing 1-2 I'm up over a thousand. No one at the table knows how to deal with my aggression.

That changes when a beautiful 20-something blonde sits down to my right. She's wearing a sleek dress and carrying what looks like a very expensive bag. She's definitely out of place in Bally's lackluster poker room, a few tables of tourists and senior citizens. She orders a beer and sets about crushing the table. She's playing almost every hand and winning most of them. In less than an hour she's up over 500.

To my left, Steven says he has her pegged for an off-work dealer. I disagree. I've noticed that her bet sizing and her read on the other players seem very strong. While she's clearly playing a lot of sub-par hands, she's playing them perfectly. I think she's probably a slumming high stakes pro.

With the blonde at the table I have less opportunities to play pots. Often by the time the action gets to me she's already put in a big raise. Nonetheless I pick my spots and my stack continues to grow. When she raises in early position I come over the top with a big raise with king seven suited. She calls, but folds to my continuation bet on the flop. I'd like to believe she knows I'm the only player at the table who can keep up with her and she doesn't want to fuck with me, but it's probably wishful thinking.

The rest of the table is as intrigued as I am and is peppering her with questions. Where's she from? What does she do? How'd she learn to play? My suspicions are confirmed: she's a live poker pro living in Vegas. She says her dad taught her the game. The table wants to know who her dad is. She doesn't want to say, but after a lot of pestering gives up that he's Oklahoma Johnny. I don't know Oklahoma Johnny any more than I know Delroy Lindo, but some of the other players seem to recognize the name.

My eyes start to droop. Still on Michigan time, I woke up at 8 a.m. It's now past 3 a.m. in the night. As tired as I am, I'm still having fun. For the first time I see what Vegas is all about. I have a mountain of chips in front of me and I'm playing with a movie star and a glamorous high roller. I wonder what it would be like if this was my reality every night. I imagine playing all night and into the next day, taking shots at higher stakes, going out to expensive bars. I imagine never leaving Vegas.

Then I think about going back to Michigan. I have to be back by the first of the month to move all my stuff out  of my room. The inspectors are coming by and the attic is not technically a legal living space. I have to teach a week-long chess camp. I have to think about moving somewhere online poker is legal, or getting a real job. I have $1500 sitting in front of me. That's real money to me. I don't even like bars.

Meanwhile I recognize the table has gotten worse. Steven, the tight but competent online pro is still to my left. A jolly but sly Swede has joined the table and has been making some cunning moves. The dangerous blonde has accumulated a stack almost as big as mine and at some point I'll have to play a big pot against her. The biggest fish have long since perished in these dangerous waters. Those who remain have watched their stacks dwindle, their eyes darting around the table in fear and bewilderment. Regretfully I get three racks and pack up my chips.

Delroy left a little while before me. When he stood up, Steven couldn't contain himself any longer and said, "Tell me this. Did you really have that number?"

It was Lindo's big line from Malcolm X. Lindo looked confused.

"Tell me this," Steven repeated, "Did you really have that number?"

"You know," said Lindo, "a lot of people confuse me for Delroy Lindo. My name's Jackson."

It's a mirage, but it's a beautiful mirage.