About 15 years ago, I started a journey in an upstairs apartment of a guy we affectionately knew as “The Devil,” so named because he seemed so much better than everyone in the game–and he certainly was. We played a ton of shitball games, and while there was some strategy, as the luck would turn, so would someone’s fortune.

Then one day (actually 2, one that I wrote down for my wife), I told my friend Joe Ginter that I wanted to be a professional poker player. This was before Rounders, before I had ever even walked into a casino, I just knew if the game could be beaten, I was smart enough to do it. So I began to read and research, and that also became a journey.

I quit playing at The Devil’s, because I liked those guys too much to take their money, and none of us really had any anyway. When I played in the future, I just gambled it up real big, but even then, it was like I had discovered a map that no one else in the game knew. Occasionally, I still get together with these guys and have a blast, and if I can figure out a way to break even or lose a few dollars, that’s a good night. They all know I could beat the game with ease, but I think they understand why its fun for me to get in there and gamble it up.

About 12 years ago, I began playing in home games around town. At first I was a huge fish. I stayed too long, I thought I was better than I was, and in general I felt unlucky when I lost. I won most of the time, but rarely did I win big. Then one day one of the big pot limit games got raided. The game had to be taken to Jim Meehan’s house (google him, great player from Minneapolis). I crushed that game every time I played, the game was shorter, and I had a bigger edge. I wasn’t nearly as good as Jim, but mostly we played limit poker, and I was getting good at it.

Right around that time, I told my wife that I needed to know how good I was, to see if I could really play. I got a room at the only place that had a hotel at the time, at Crystal Park Casino in Compton. The place was a dump. Robert Turner worked there at the time, and he took care of me for the 2 months I stayed there. I gave them enough play for the room, but mostly I played at Hollywood Park and the Commerce. I would wake up and play what was a black chip game; I believe it was 9-18. I usually did well in that and then moved up to 20-40 in the afternoon. Overall for the trip, I did a little better than break even. Somehow a spider had made an intricate web throughout my car one day (it was a convertible) that none of the valet guys seemed to notice, and I didn’t either until I was faced with it at 6 am. When I think back to how scared I was at that moment, it seems real funny.

I never had real money at this point, and there just weren’t enough bad poker players to really get over the hump. So I got by. I had various jobs, but I always played poker, and I always won (though I was never really that good back then). That was part of my journey.

When online poker came, a light bulb clicked. In 2004, I far exceeded any dreams I could have ever had for myself and finally had that heart to heart with my wife. I knew poker held something for me. I just didn’t know what, but I had to find out.

When 2004 ended, it had become clear that poker offered me more than just playing poker, and in a lot of ways, I am more proud of the things I have done for poker rather than the things I have done playing poker. That too has been part of my journey.

At the second event of the WSOP on Tuesday, I will once again attempt to surpass my dreams, though I am past the point that winning a poker tournament seems unachievable. The odds say I won’t make it, nor will any of you. I remember in 2004 at the WSOP Main Event, confidence was brimming in everyone. My dad jokingly said that if he had a nickel for every player that thought they could win, he would have more than Greg Raymer actually won. My dad was there for every minute of those 4 days I was battling. I never made any boastful claims that I could win, and even though I played great, the odds did what they do, and I came in 152nd. Imagine being a dad and watching your son playing, knocking out the best in the world. That was a really cool part of my journey.

Many of us will try and take our stabs, and almost all of us will lose. In that process, we will go to night clubs, meet friends from online, or reconnect with old friends. Some of us will be lucky enough to have a moment or two where we actually have a shot, and that will be cool no matter what happens–just having one good shot.

I just wanted to write this because poker isn’t like the Super Bowl, the best players don’t always win. Ultimately, the journey is what everyone should take from this experience, and I look forward to meeting all of you.

F me