Climbing, climbing, climbing

The call came about 11:00 from Will that night.

"Dude, I'm playing in this tournament on Poker Room. 30 people left and I have a lot of chips. Going after it."

I whooped and logged onto the site so I could watch. Sure enough, he was raking in pots and rising in the ranks. I went to bed about midnight with 15 people left and he promised to let me know how it finished up.

When I woke up there was a message from him on my phone. I only remember the first few lines:

"Yeahh boy!! Man... 7 hours later... 3500 dollars richer..."

He had taken second for by far our biggest score to date. I jumped so high I nearly hit my head on my bedroom ceiling as a surge of something fierce rocketed through me. Yes. YES! Atta kid!!! One of us had finally broken through and it felt like it was only the beginning.

And sure enough, Jesse final tabled a tourney at Full Tilt for over $1k shortly thereafter. I did for about the same. Things were starting to happen. The seeds we had sown were getting some water, a little sunlight and starting to break through the ground. These plants were nice. But I wanted a damn garden.

Before too long, I was ready to make my foray into live poker at a casino. It was a little daunting at first but I knew my understanding of the game had reached the point where it was time. My previous ignorance about what hands to fold and what amounts to bet were gone. Now it became merely about following the action and recognizing the right plays to make. I was fortunate enough to live less than 30 minutes from Canterbury Park, one of the most notable poker venues in the midwest. Living in central Wisconsin, Will and Jesse didn't have the same luxury.

My 3rd or 4th live tourney, I got 5th place in a $200 event for $1918. I distinctly remember how fast my heart was beating during big hands. I made a huge raise with a full house and my entire body was bouncing on the inside with boundless energy as I sat there stoically and silently. As I navigated my way through the field of 130 people, excitement started to grow as we neared the final table. With 12 people left, someone raised in late position and I looked down at two queens, the best starting hand I'd seen all day. I went all-in and the raiser decided to call with A7. I was a big favorite and if my hand held up, I'd be a cinch to make the final table. I was internally screaming at the top of my lungs for the queens to hold and through the flop, turn and river... they did.

The big time. We're here. Final. Fucking. Table. Without really knowing where I was climbing and when I'd reached the peak, that moment felt like an ascension of sorts. From slinging quarters around at the 213 to handing over our drivers licenses to the tourney director so proper tax reporting could be down on the thousands of dollars that were at stake. It wasn't necessarily the mountain we'd all dreamed about. But I had definitely scaled something. Going out in 5th...not winning...was irrelevant. This was a landmark moment. It felt big and satisfying and exciting.

I had no idea how much it would take to climb the other mountains. But for the first time I could actually see them with my eyes, far off in the distance.