"It's eight o'clock. Uhhhmmh," grumbled TC before suddenly jumping out of bed.

"Eight o'clock? You idiot, I have to be ready for the game in one hour! It's worse than that," sighed The Genie, "I have to get you ready for the game in thirteen hours, and I think it's nearly impossible."

TC was not sure which to be most surprised about, the fact that he had been woken up at 8am or the fact that The Genie still didn't seem to believe he was ready to win a simple World Series satellite. He found himself unable to express his contempt in words, so he got back into bed.

"You want to be a pro player. Am I right?" asked The Genie.

"I am a pro player" corrected TC. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have every faith that 9am exists without feeling the desire to actually witness it."

"If you don't get up now, and take some more lessons from me, you'll never make it as a pro," continued The Genie. "I listened to your regular opponents chatting last night. I think I can help you even more now."

"You're just lying to get me to get up early," whined TC.

"That would be stupid of me," replied The Genie. "I'll explain why if you get up"

Reluctantly, TC dragged himself out of bed. Over a light breakfast, The Genie explained to TC what he had learned from the bar the night before. "You're one of the local fish" he explained. "Without you, there might not even be a game."

"That's just stupid!" protested TC. "They have often been playing for hours when I arrive"

The Genie just raised an eyebrow and continued "Firstly, you almost always bet according to your hand size."

"Obviously," said TC. "I don't want to risk a lot of chips with a bad hand do I?"

The Genie ignored this display of stupidity and carried on. "Secondly, you always slow play aces."

"Of course" explained TC. "If I raised, it would give away my hand wouldn't it?"

The Genie blinked for a few seconds until his frustration had died down. "See my first point for details," he said as calmly as he could manage.

TC nodded. "You got me there," he admitted.

"So..." added The Genie "other than you, who would you say are the fish in the game that you play?"

"Ears." replied TC without pausing for thought. "He beat my aces last time we played."

"You don't raise with aces though, you gave him that pot for free. Oh, and by the way, his name is Pete, he can hear perfectly well."

"He still got lucky to flop the full house though" explained TC. "He just relies on luck."

"Just because someone got lucky, it doesn't mean they are not better than you," explained The Genie. "The correct answer is that there are no real regular fish in that game other than yourself, although I expect there will be a few tonight."

"I hate playing against idiots," admitted TC. "I just can't bluff them."

"Have you forgotten my bluffing lesson already?" growled The Genie.

"No. But I am having trouble working out when the time is right."

"Do you remember what I said to you when you got out of bed?" asked The Genie

"Yes, but I didn't understand it. Why would you have been wrong to lie to me?"

"You should never bluff someone who isn't going to believe you," grinned The Genie.

TC frowned. "I guess you're right," he muttered."

"Have you ever noticed how you rarely have the winning hand when you call?" pressed The Genie.

"Yes," sighed TC. "I'm just so unlucky. I never catch them bluffing"

"Luck has nothing to do with it," pointed out The Genie. "They don't bluff you."

A dramatic pause ensued where it appeared that TC had learned something new. Finally, he spoke. "What do you mean Ears can hear?" he screamed. "He's been lying to me for all this time?"

The Genie nodded. "What a sucker I've been!" exclaimed TC. "I hate them."

"If you don't like them, beat them," smiled The Genie.

"Let's do it!" enthused TC.

The rest of the day was spent with The Genie teaching TC the basics of poker and some simple tournament strategies. After several hours The Genie was very impressed with how the new, determined, TC was coming along. "I think you're ready now," he announced. "You have a lot more still to learn before your next game, but you should have some chance tonight if you do everything I've taught you."

"Thanks Genie," said TC.

"You can call me Dave."

The bar was the busiest it had been in months as TC and the invisible Dave entered. Patch was talking to one of the new customers, and the end of the conversation could just be heard.

"...so I said, if the Red Sox win from here, you can poke me in the eye with a sharp stick," concluded Patch.

The players filtered through to the back room to begin the satellite. "One last thing," said Dave, "if you flop the nuts at any point against Pete or Frank, bet the minimum."

"Who is Frank?" asked TC.

Dave rolled his eyes. "Frank is the poor sod that you christened The Fish," he explained. "You didn't even pick the best player to make that joke about. That would have been Ears."

"Pete you mean," smiled TC.

Dave winked. "You're ready. Go get 'em."

The tournament progressed slowly. The players had a lot of chips and a slow structure, and TC managed to play sensibly and steadily built his stack. Dave watched from the back of the room, quietly proud of how well his formerly unwilling student was playing. He amused himself between hands by trying to steal beers from people without them noticing. At the first break, ten players remained, and TC was in the middle of the field.

"This is boring," he mentioned to Dave.

"Playing low-limit pro poker is like counting to a million," noted The Genie. "Most people could do it with only a little training, but very few can be bothered or find it worthwhile. Sadly, if you want to do complex math, you have to learn to count first. Poker is the same, except in poker, you have to at least begin to actually do the counting rather than just learn it. Just stay calm and in time the rewards will come."

After several hours, only four players remained, and all had roughly equal stacks. TC, Pete, Frank and a college kid from out of town whom TC had named "Hotshot." (Although he had noted that the player's real name was Brandon .) The kid looked vaguely familiar, but TC couldn't work out where from.

In what turned out to be a critical hand, TC was dealt Jacks and raised. Pete called. The flop brought Jack, Nine, and Six, all of different suits. Pete checked. TC, remembering his instructions, bet the minimum, and Pete moved all-in. TC called in a flash, and a stunned Pete rolled over King-Queen. The turn brought a Four and the river a Ten, giving Pete a straight, and eliminating TC from the tournament.

"Nice hand," TC said and tapped on the table.

"Goddammit!" Dave screamed and threw a glass against the wall.

"That wind is picking up, better ask Patch to close the door," smiled TC. "Good luck everyone," he said sportingly and left the room.

The walk home was the longest of TC's life. He was delighted with the way he had played, and he knew he had been the best player in the room. The unlucky departure was not the reason the walk was so long.

"You're so unlucky it's ridiculous," whined Dave. "It's just obscene," he continued. "That non-deaf guy is pathetic. How could he push that? What a bunch of losers," he moaned.

After a while TC could take no more. "Shut up!" he screamed and, in the process, scared a group of children who were busy throwing stones at cars. "You're the best poker teacher that ever existed. Pull yourself together," he continued.

"That's what all the losers tell themselves," said a voice from behind TC. TC had had enough strangeness for one week and turned around to see who it was this time. To his utmost surprise, it was Brandon the Hotshot.

"We're on a short break," explained Brandon . "I'm not that much of a player, but I do know something odd when I see it," he continued. "Yesterday, I encountered an arrogant man who walked into me and told me how he was going to be the next world champion of poker. Today, that same man, having visited the library, is calm, rational and has improved his play beyond all recognition. What I intend to do is find out why."

"What does this have to do with me?" asked TC.

"You were that man," explained Hotshot. "I want you to go to Las Vegas with $5,000 of my money and play whatever you feel you should to try to get into the World Series of Poker main event. You can keep half of what you come back with, as long as you play that event at some point and keep accurate records of all your play. You have 30 seconds to decide."

"Don't do it," said Dave, but it was too late. TC had already agreed.

"You will fly out tomorrow at noon." continued Brandon . "Your tickets and bankroll will be waiting at the airport. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to try to win this seat," he concluded, and with that turned around and headed back to the bar.

After a few paces down the street, Brandon turned around and imparted one last piece of advice. "You might want to stop talking to yourself in public," he noted and then headed back to his game.

"Another fine mess," sighed Dave, but he would not go into more detail.

TC got home and decided to chat with ANGIE about what had happened. "Good morning, Dave." said ANGIE.

"Dave?" repeated TC.

"I've been seeing her behind your back," said a sheepish looking Genie.

TC just laughed. The crazy changes in his life had caused him to see the funny side of all that was occurring. TC chatted with The Genie while packing his bags. He packed several flasks of water (he had heard that Vegas was in the desert and was concerned there would not be much to drink), some loud Hawaiian shirts and shorts (he didn't want to look like a tourist, so he wanted to look the part, like all local pro players would), and a pair of shades that he could hardly see through that he had bought especially in case this situation ever came up.

"Dave," began TC. "After all you've seen in your thousands of years, is there anything you have not witnessed in any of the books you've been in?"

"I've never seen a strategy cliff-hanger," replied Dave.

"What's that?" asked TC innocently.

"Well. Can you think of a situation in a game where you would raise preflop with no real intention of seeing the flop?"

"No. Please explain," requested TC. His desire for learning was now fully ignited.

"I'll tell you about it tomorrow," smiled Dave. "First, we have a plane to catch."

To Be Continued....