Hold ’em? Fold ’em? Portland's no Texas, or Las Vegas, but people still want to sit at the table BY SAM PFEIFLE

I’m assuming you’re aware of this Texas Hold ’Em craze. That "poker," on television all the time, be it played by celebrities (Maura Tierney — super hot and a good card player) or pasty-faced, sunglassed, hard-core card-playing dorks. Like that guy named Moneymaker, who, somewhat famously showed up at last year’s World Series of Poker, having never played professionally, and won the whole thing. His experience came from countless hours playing on the Internet.

Thus supposedly sprang a boomlet (good marketing had something to do with it, too). "Hey," thousands of gambling types said to themselves, "if that guy can do it, so can I." ESPN the Magazine explained it this way in last month’s issue: Anyone who could count to 52 figured they had a shot. Because, obviously, we all think we’re smarter than everybody else — especially the shmoe across the table wearing that Budweiser Frogs T-shirt.

The World Series of Poker this year saw exponential growth, and little circuits have sprung up all over the country in places where such gambling is allowed. This is how it works: People sign up, agreeing to throw $50, say, into the pot. That buys you maybe "$10,000" worth of chips. Then you play against people, trying to take all their chips until there’s one person left with all the chips. The winner takes a big share of the pot money, second and third usually take smaller cuts, everyone else goes home having paid $50 for anywhere from an hour or so to five hours of entertainment. It can easily be more entertaining than the $50 right-field box seats at Fenway.

The game’s pretty easy: Everyone gets two cards in exchange for an ante. You bet to stay in. Then you have to bet to stay in as five community cards — three initial cards on the "flop," then two other single cards — are dealt out in three more rounds. At the end of all the cards being dealt, the best poker hand, as a combination of the personal two and the five community cards, wins.

The skill comes in knowing when to bet and when to throw your cards in and wait for the next hand. Usually, two people end up going head to head each hand. Once you run out of chips, you’re done. If you’re getting low, you can stave off elimination by going "all in" so that other players can’t just bet over your head. If you win the all in, you double up (or triple up, etc., if other players call your bet). If you lose the all in, you’re out.

Obviously, the combination of high-competitiveness (trying to take other people’s money) and opportunity for profit (um, taking other people’s money) attracted attention here in the office, particularly from Gamblor. We conspired for a short while to start a Tuesday night, post-production Hold ’Em game here at the office. It’d be like that episode of Beverly Hills 90210 when Steve convinced Brandon to play in the big-time, though secret, poker game at the Beverly Hill Beach Club, where Brando was an employee. Everyone would wear green visors, smoke cigars, and stack chips in little piles. Big fun. And we’d be doing something against the law! Thrilling!

Except, come to find out, such a thing would be totally legal. It’s fine "in somebody’s house [or office] as long as nobody is cutting a profit or selling something of value there," says Sergeant William Gomane of the Maine State Police’s Gaming and Weapons division. Well, hot damn!

Of course, Gamblor couldn’t wait for me to get around to organizing anything, so he set up a game with a few of his friends and they had themselves a little tournament, which Gamblor won — earning himself some money and a little plastic trophy with a piece of paper taped to it.

But taking money from friends is only fun for a short while. Eventually, they want to win some back from you. That’s no fun at all. So, when word got around that a certain drinking establishment was having themselves a tournament, Gamblor was licking his chops to play against some unknown drones. Plus, there was a new enticement. This game, in a bar, would be very much illegal!

"It’s a for-profit [enterprise]," notes Sergeant Gomane, "they’re advancing gambling, making money by selling items to the players." If you don’t believe him, see Title 17, Chapter 14, 331: "No person, firm, corporation, association or organization shall hold, conduct or operate a game of chance within the State unless a license therefore is obtained from the Chief of the State Police, or the game of chance constitutes "social gambling." Social gambling is that "nobody is cutting a profit" stuff Sergeant Gomane was talking about earlier.

But, you’re saying, couldn’t said bar get a license? Nope. Licenses only go to "bona fide non-profits" like American Legions or agricultural fairs. (Also, thanks to an 1873 law, "The use of glass is prohibited in games of skill." So don’t use glass chips, even at your house. And you might want to drink you beer from cans, just to be safe.)

So, said bar is looking at being charged with a Class D crime, probably a count for every person playing, but perhaps only for every game played (i.e., "punishable by up to 364 days incarceration and a $2000 fine" for each offense). That was enough excitement to get Gamblor involved.

Of course, he got bounced in about an hour and a half. But there’s always next week. If the out-in-the-open smoking doesn’t bother the cops, I doubt a little card-playing will.

Sam Pfeifle can be reached at spfeifle@phx.com