The room was dimly lit. There were small sounds of chatter and jazz in the background. My fingers tapped rhythmically against the worn surface of the green oval table. A gleeful smile was present on my face.
The game was against five other people. I had the most chips closely followed by Michael. Our chip stack was significantly higher than all the other plays combined. Their faces exemplified this fact, all expressing irritation that they were getting beat by kids.
Michael was the opposite of me. Whereas I was smiling and chatting, he looked focused and reserved. My focus wasn't completely on the game. An event like this is for networking, and a game like Poker was used to draw attention to yourself.
A large audience surrounded the table. The minimum bet would've pretty much wiped out the other players. Everyone around us watched with interest. The dealer finished shuffling the deck and began passing around the cards.
Everyone kept their cards closed. They kept one hand on the top of the card and bent the bottom to slightly reveal it.
I had a nine and ten of spades. Overall, not a good starting hand, but it could be worse. I changed my focus to the other players. Apart from Michael, all of them looked hesitant to bet. They looked abnormally tense as their backs straightened up upon seeing their hands.
I needed to take the initiative. Once I was sure that the players were looking at me, I quickly faltered my smile to a frown and clicked my tongue quietly. I dropped my cards slowly before the betting began.
My strategy succeeded as the players looked more confident. I turned to Michael to see his expression was the same, yet he began to tap his feet.
The betting began as all players put in the minimum. When the last player threw their chips toward the dealer, the dealer's hands deftly distributed the first set of community cards. The flop.
A king and a three of hearts, and a seven of spades were revealed to all players. I didn't pair, so I'd have to hope to pair on the next rounds. A flush, while possible, was unlikely as well.
I'd drop the act of pretending to be weak. After this round, there would just be two of us left. I put on the same confident smile causing some of the other men at the table to flinch.
My eyes swept over each face around the table, noting subtle twitches, the fleeting dilation of pupils, the contractions of facial muscles - all betraying fragments of truth.
The person leading the vote tapped on the table. The person after that did the same, and the person after that. When it got to me, I gently tapped the table as well. Michael was last and repeated the same gesture, no more chips being added.
The dealer moved their hand to the deck and quickly flipped over the turn. The six of diamonds.
Not a good card for me at all. A flush was no longer possible. However, in a Poker game, you don't have to have the best cards to win. You just need to make everyone else believe that you do. Poker is unique in the way that mind and reality meet. If everyone believes that you have the best hand, then you do. You'll win.
Although Poker is a game of both luck and skill, it takes far more luck to triumph over skill.
The older man on my left, who exuded confidence with his expensive suit and manicured beard, raised his bet. A calculated move, but his pupils betrayed the slightest dilution – anxiety.
Another gentleman sat with an air of arrogance. His fingers tapped the table rhythmically, a sure sign of impatience. This was all I needed to know that he had nothing. An unconfident gesture.
Opposite him sat a younger man, his knuckles whitening as he clutched his cards. His gaze flicked around the room, landing on each player's face before darting back to his own hand. He was trying too hard to read others, a classic deflection technique. His eyes, however, betrayed his anxiety whenever his gaze landed on the pot. He had something, perhaps a pair, but not a strong one.
I turned to Michael to see his hands slightly trembling as he flipped over his cards again to check them.
I tilted my head. Michael's actions ... they seemed predictable. Almost too predictable. Deeper thinking brought several questions. Why would he allow his hands to tremble when he's been so focused?
There was a pattern to the kid's behavior, a predictable choreography he followed. His patterns never deviated. It wasn't his cards that interested me, but rather his intentions. It was hard for me to get an accurate read knowing this. Was he bluffing or not?
This feeling of not knowing felt ... exhilarating! I was ecstatic from the feeling of not knowing! For once, I didn't know everything! It was a puzzle for me to solve, a truly worthy challenge.
I had an incline that his hand was good, but I couldn't be sure. The playful feeling spread to my amber eyes as they focused on Michael. My face portrayed a friendly feeling, but looking into my eyes, Michael gulped. It was the eyes of a predator.
"It's your turn," Jordan whispered to me. I blinked as I began to focus on everything else. It was my turn to bet. In my fascination, I wasn't paying attention to the game.
"Mike, I gotta say, you interest me," I told him.
"Oh? How so?" He asked. He looked at me. His eyes met my challenge.
"You're ..." I began, repeating the last sound as I thought of the words that best fit. "You're like a watching contradiction."
I began to slide my chips over. "What the hell I'm all in."
There were silent gasps and 'ooos' from the crowd. Everyone was now watching, eagerly watching for what would happen next. The other players immediately folded. Although they knew that I was more interested in seeing what Michael had, they didn't want to take the chance that they were wrong.
"Call," He responded as he slid his chips. The dealer took the card from the deck and revealed the deuce of clubs.
We both flipped over our hands. Michael had a jack and a queen of hearts – a flush possibility that never came to fruition.
Yet it was better than my hand. Even though I didn't need to, I flipped over my hand. It was out of respect for his cunning.
I realized that he had anticipated what I would do. He was bluffing and he thought I was bluffing as well. He used me to clear the other players and secure a big pot for himself. I assumed that my smile faltering tipped him off.
He breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing my nine and ten of spades. The dealer slid all the chips over to him. My stack was now a third of what it originally was.
But it was all worth it. I didn't mind losing in this situation. In fact, I was over the moon. Michael may not be an intellectual equal, but he sure was close.
It was like a new toy, and I couldn't wait to play with him. To see what made him mad, happy, sad. How could I push his buttons?
Ideas flowed through my mind like a river for the entire night.