As I write this I’m en route from Vegas for a vacation back to where I grew up, the city of Troy in upstate New York. While my parents were educators and were pretty far removed from what was going on in the streets of the city, Troy had, and still has, a well-deserved reputation as a gambling town. (I was at the Gaming Expo at the WSOP this year when a guy introduced himself to me as Gary Stycyznski. He was from Troy also, having gone to my high school. He congratulated my on winning a bracelet, then went on to shock me by saying he had won one also, in Event #6. How about that? Two Troy High boys winning a WSOP bracelet in the same year!)

I think I played in my first street game when I was about 12. I remember those games as consisting of a lot of acey-deucey and the like. I also remember the first time I was cheated. One of the older guys had very crudely marked the backs of the cards with a ball-point pen. No one noticed until he bragged about it later, and then the marks became obvious. However, it always stuck with me how little people notice when they have the gambling fever.

My real education came at a place that is still my favorite spot in the world. Babcock Lake is a small lake about 20 miles outside of Troy. It was a popular retreat for NY city people in the early 1900’s, with a lodge and tavern that featured some big name bands of the era. The Olympic swimming team trained there, and Johnny Weismuller practiced his Tarzan dives on the diving tower at the beach. Poker was also a popular pastime for the locals. My Dad bought a camp there in 1960 and that’s where I spent many summers. Naturally I gravitated to the poker games, which popped up in private camps, on picnic tables and on the beach. There was a group of guys who ranged in age from 18 to about 24 who were the mainstays of the games. They played real poker, like 7-stud and draw, and I was enthralled by the game. By age 13 or 14 I was sticking my toe in the water. My mentor was Rock Murphy, who had learned to play in the service and was the best player. Not only did he tutor me the basics of poker, but he whetted my appetite for Las Vegas with his tales of adventures on his many junkets to the city. (Needless to say, my parents had other plans for me and didn’t care much for Rock.)

By age 15 I rarely lost in the games at the lake or in the city. I wasn’t an accomplished player by any means, but I had figured out the key to beating that type of loose game: I simply played patiently and nearly always had the best hand when I entered a pot. It’s a basic strategy that every player should understand before moving on to move advanced ways of beating games. I prove the efficacy of that strategy now when I go back and play in the games, but I do it from the opposite side of the fence—I play strictly for fun, so I play nearly every hand and rarely come out winner. I don’t care who you are, if you play too many hands, especially in limit poker, you have little chance in the long run. I remember in the early ‘80s Eric Drache started a 100-200 mixed game at the Golden Nugget. It was a bit steep for me at that time, but I’ve never been very good at playing within my bankroll, so I took a shot. Stuey Unger was in the game, and he played nearly every hand, no matter whether it was hold’em, eight-or-better, or razz. He needed action and couldn’t stand to sit out a hand. As talented as Stuey was, he had no shot of winning.

Things have changed at Babcock Lake over the years. Rock passed away far too young, there is usually only one card game each summer–at the property owners annual party, which is this weekend–and hold’em, which I tried unsuccessfully for years to introduce into the mix of games, has now taken over. Regardless, it’s still my favorite spot on earth and I can’t wait to get back there.