Chapter 44The Strength of Your Initial Idea, or Starting Hand, Is Always Relative
Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the, uh, final table of the World Series of Po—”
“Cut. Can we do that again? You had an ‘uh’ in there.”
“Got it. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the final table of the World Series of Poker!”
“Perfect.”
Overhearing that exchange as soon as he arrived on the tournament floor, Owen knew who was running the show. It may have been his 10 grand that got him here (okay, Pitchford’s 10 grand), but it was ESPN’s baby now. They would be broadcasting the final table live, which meant that producers and announcers and lots of other staff were trying to make sure everything sounded and looked good because there was no postproduction. The nine players themselves might as well have been afterthoughts.
Owen was definitely feeling anxious, or nervous. Whatever it was, it was making his stomach rumble. By the time all of the players were announced by name and then all of the sponsors were announced by name and all of the “distinguished guests” were announced by name, Owen felt like he had spent a solid hour of just sitting at the table, grinning like a schmuck at Lisa, Pitchford, and the audience and waiting for play to start. Finally, though, the floor emcee said the magic words, “Dealer, shuffle up and deal!”
The players had drawn ping-pong balls with numbers on them to determine seating, and Owen had drawn number 2. That meant being in an early spot away from the blinds which ...
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