“Are you old enough for this game, Junior?”

If you’ve been reading my posts, then you’re aware that Commerce has been my cardroom of choice recently. I’ve made something ridiculous like $1,800 in less than a week there, playing $4-8 stud. 7-0 on winning sessions. Nothing to complain about, right?

Well, there is just one little thing. Of course there is. There always is.

The problem is this. 90% of the players at a stud table are going to be older, because that’s just the way the history of poker is playing out. The young kids are hold ‘em experts, who know all the odds and outs and dominate the no limit hold ‘em games with their tight-aggressive play. The old school is still in session for the game of 7-card stud, though. They say it’s a game for the mature player, for the hardened veteran. When a younger player sits down at a stud table, the older players begin licking their chops and eyeing his stack.

I, of course, am the anomaly – the exception to the rule. I show up and take down some huge pots by catching monster hands (that is, by knowing my outs and calling with the right pot odds), make expert raises on the come, and generally stake my claim to a share of the “fish ‘n’ chips.”

The older players are used to seeing a recent college graduate like myself blowing a few hundred dollars within his first hour of play. And I generally have no problem with this. I want them to underestimate me. I want them to think that I’m too simplistic a player to raise with a straight-draw, or check-raise rolled-up trips. I want them to wonder what the hell hit them when I fill my boat on the river. I want to break them, hard, and leave them scratching their graying, balding heads.

Even so, like all poker players I do have a bit of an ego. I can only tolerate so much of being talked down to. Last Thursday someone actually exclaimed, after an extended smoke break, “You still have chips!? I’d have thought you’d be out by now.” He smiled back at what he thought was a smile from me. I was actually gritting my teeth.

And on Saturday, I’m watching an Omaha game while I wait for a stud seat. I’m talking to an older guy, and I explain to him that I’m no good at Omaha (“So no, I don’t want to pay for a front-row seat to the destruction of my bankroll.”) I inform him that my game of choice is 7-Card stud, and he laughs at me. “Son, you need at least ten, fifteen years before you can play the game of stud any good. Why don’t you go play hold ‘em, like the rest of you kids?”

This is just too much for my poker-ego to bear. I’m holding a rack of blue chips ($100) as I wait for the game, and I gesture with it to a nearby open table. “Let’s go,” I say, voice icy calm. “Heads up, a hundred dollars, 7-card stud, winner take all. Come on.”

He smiles weakly, not sure if I’m serious or not. “You sure about that? I’ve been playing stud for 35 years … longer than you’ve been alive. Why don’t you just hold on to your money?”

I don’t smile at all. “I intend to. I’m more concerned with winning yours.”

Of course the guy backs down, muttering something about heading home soon.

So AARP members, beware. This kid’s got game.