Rosita Boland practices her poker face among the pros at the week's world championships in DublinRosita Boland
Poker, ah the mystique of the game! The hooded glances. The click of the chips. The dimly-lit room. The late nights. The bourbon and cigars. The smoke billowing over the baize table. And all that jazz. Yes?
Well, no. Not quite. It's shortly after 9am in the Merrion Casino Club on Dublin's Merrion Square and the second day of the five-day Gaming Club World Poker Championships is under way. The second floor 'Regency Room' is dim, it is true, but this is because the curtains are closed against the morning sunlight to facilitate the lighting system of a satellite TV station, who are filming the entire tournament. The 16 players around the two tables haven't been playing all night; they've just arrived. There are indeed tumblers on side tables, but they're full of water. And there is, of course, no smoke.
"Poker used to be all about lardass Texans chomping on cigars in the back rooms of bars," relates Brian Johnson, the American-born chief executive of this championship. "Online poker and televised poker has changed all that. It's attracted a whole new demographic of player." The statistics which bear Johnson out on this are quite staggering. Poker is reportedly the fastest-growing 'recreation' in the world, played today by some 100 million people. Five years ago, the numbers were half that.
However, relatively few women play poker, even now. Johnson can't offer any reason why this is so. "It's always been a man's game," he observes. "But we are pushing to attract more women to the game."
More players means more tournaments, and thus 2004 is the inargural year of the Gaming Club World Poker Championships. The top prize is, relatively speaking, peanuts as these championships go - €250,000. To put it in perspective, the winner of the World Series Championship in Las Vegas this year, Greg Raymer, won $5 million. Another poker player, Chris Moneymaker - and yes, that is his real name - won €2.5 million at the same championship last year.
Still, it's enough money to have attracted an entry of 128 serious poker players from countries round the world. These include Iraq, Iran, India, Sweden, Denmark, Estonia, and the US, and all players have paid a whacking €6,000 a head to "buy in" to the competition. Clearly, this competition is not for amateurs who fancy themselves at cards, unless you'd like to part very swiftly with €6,000 of your hard-earned cash. And even the $5 million-winning poker-playing Raymer and money-making Moneymaker are here, so, as Johnson says, Dublin has definitely proved to be a popular venue.
In the coyly-named 'Regency Room' on the first floor, the space is so tight that the players are literally rubbing elbows with lighting rods, and the onlookers are more or less breathing down their necks. You would think that this might get in the way of concentration. However, to a man - and they are all, bar one, men - the players totally ignore the television cameras, the audience, and each other.
"They're used to it," confides Ama Amhabir, who is here with her companion, Ramanarine Jerrybandan, who will play in the next day's heats.
Despite the dimness, two of the players are wearing very dark sunglasses. "You can see a lot of 'tells' by the eyes," confides Antrim-born competitor, Paul Leckey. 'Tells' are the tell-tale signals players may unconsciously reveal about their hand. Even at this level of play, inscrutable poker-faces are an art to strive for.
The expressions on the players' faces are, frankly, fascinating. You would never think thousands of auras were currently being gambled for on the tables. The players look like commuters on buses or trains, staring into space with abstract, dreamy, removed expressions. They look totally disconnected with the game, even bored. "Win or lose," says Leckey, whose biggest competition win to date has been €33,000 "my expression never changes. Or I hope it doesn't."
To Trinidadian-born Ramanarine Jerrybandan, poker is "my way of relaxation." As he's speaking, it's difficult not to notice Jerrybandan's rather magnificent jewels. Among them is a large emerald ring, and a huge gold bangle, with the words of an Indian god, Sita Rama, picked out in diamonds. "Oh, yes, this," he says. "I got it made in India. It has been blessed by Sai Baba [who runs a controversial ashram in India]."
Later, Johnson remarks laconically, "poker is not a subtle game". He reports that he's already spotted one player self-consciously sporting a $40,000 Rolex watch. He laughs. "So people know, literally, what they're up against next to on the table!"
"I teach yoga and people ask how I can mix spirituality with gambling, but I say to them 'God is everywhere'," Jerrybandan grins. He thinks that everyone has 'a tell' no matter how good they are. "They'll put their hand to their mouth, or fix their glasses, or drink too much water. People will tell you poker is 50 per cert skill and 50 per cent luck. It isn't. It's 80 per cent luck!"
Jerrybandan's biggest win so far has been $180,000. "For me, it's a game - a game of personality. I don't put value on chips. I just look on them as pieces of metal. When I lose, I smile." However, he then admits that he "owns many real estate companies", so perhaps that has something to do with the ability to smile once the chips are down - and gone.