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Poker Babies & Me
A night of Texas Hold ’em with three Germans and an Aussie
“I vill betz two hundred,” said the well-groomed German man. His movements were methodical; the newly acquired courage at the stroke of midnight caught my attention. I secretly watched like a proud father as he took down pot after pot. With a calm, unwavering determination, he battled from behind to claim an unprecedented (novice) victory.
Germany felt like the little brother or sister who tries to play catch-up with an older sibling. There’s a bit of a delay there. During my first six months in Deutschland in 2007, I had the feeling like I’d gone back in time. Aside from your everyday teenager wearing vintage Michael Jackson attire, you’d find many other things that were reminiscent of 1980s America.
Turn on the TV and you’d see American shows from the same era, but it felt like they weren’t. Ironically, I had that “been there, done that” feeling in my expat life.
Poker was no exception, either.
In the span of a year, I’d seen an increase in poker advertisements in two major German cities. And just when I thought I had kicked my quasi-poker addiction, I got sucked back in, only this time it was in a new setting.
