"Hi. Nice to meet you. Your name is?"
"Pug," was the reply.
And that's what his name was. Pug. For more than 4 years, that was the only name I knew of this man, who loved his bluegrass music, the Grateful Dead, moonshine, and the occasional cigar. Oh, and he loved his poker. From hold 'em, to the 5-card draw games at Poker Stars. Loved it.
He loved the people he played with, although he wouldn't let on if they put a bad beat on him. He wouldn't shake a players hand that busted him with a bad play. His two kings against 2 aces? Handshake. His 2 jacks against a 2-3 off suit? Forget it. He wasn't bitter, but his rationale was, "why would I shake your hand for busting me with junk? It's like I'm agreeing with your bad play, and kinda rewarding you for it."
Hard to argue that.
Oh sure, Pug would play the reckless hand from time to time, claiming his 5-8 suited from the BB with no raises was fine. Even after a flop of K-Q-4 with one of his suit, betting around, and he calls it all. The thinking there was always, "well I had a flush draw....they were suited after all." Funny thing was, he somehow always managed to get there. 2 runners for the straight, 2 runners for the flush. He'd get the hand home.
Then there were the times the Pugster would mis-read his hand. Thinking he rivered the nuts, and exclaiming "I gots the boat!!!!." In reality, he held just 2 pair, or maybe just 1, and another card that was just one pip smaller or larger. The table would laugh. Pug would, too. Then he would sit in at the side game, telling jokes, or running through his encyclopedia of sayings.
"One's scared, and the others glad of it."
"Ya can't go through life checkin'."
There were more, but frankly, I don't have the heart right now to look them all up.
The world lost Pug on August 17, 2009. At the age of 43, no less. Far too young. Gone far too soon.
My encounters with Pug were at the poker table. I can't think of a time we were together when poker wasn't involved. I am the one that feels the loss in this cold fact. There is so much I missed out on from this kind man. He was, as my buddy Vito put it, "a good ol' boy in every sense of the word." Vito is right. He was a boy. He was good.
My loss pales in comparison to the hurt his family is enduring at this hour. Pug was a small part of my life, but the biggest part in theirs. My thoughts and prayers go out to them this night. May God help you through this very difficult time.
My pain is summed up best in this next story. 3 weeks ago, he friended me at my Facebook page. That was the day I learned his real name.
To me, he will always and forever, be Pug.
I miss you buddy.
~M
