The Tiltboys

Russ 1987 Rafe 1987 Mike 1987 Perry 1987 Steve 1987 Dave 1992 Bruce 1993 Tony 1993 Phil 1993 Lenny 1994 Josh 1995 Paul 1996 Kim 1996 JK 1997

"... a half-dozen recent Stanford graduates and their friends, whose escapades, fueled by Rusty Nail and Green Apple cocktails, would delight Dean Martin." Smithsonian Magazine "For a few good belly laughs, read these true tales.... Amidst their PG-13-rated stories of ribaldry in Las Vegas, there is a surprising amount of intelligent discussion of poker." New York Times "... they dress in women's clothes and go to poker rooms. They think this is of great interest to other poker players. This strikes me as a rather pathetic, or at least sophomoric, attempt to get attention." rec.gambling.poker

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Friday, April 20, 2007

Another chapter from Tales from the Tiltboys

JK
“TILTDAD”
SCHEINBERG




I reported directly to JK for a while at Apple, but I never laid eyes
on him or spoke to him except when playing poker.
—Michael Chow


JK became a Tiltboy in much the same way the rest of us
did—he was screwed by one. Unlike the rest of us, he married
her.
The latter was surprising—not that he married Kim per se,
but that he married at all. Nobody seemed more suited to a life
of bachelorhood than JK (a sentiment that originated with his
first wife of 14 years). JK’s own words—written just three days
before he met Kim—bear this out:

Fuck all this non-gambling crap. I, for one,
am going to BARGE to gamble. Forget chat-
ting, fuckin’ roller-coasters, fuckin’ pin-
ball (sheesh), fuckin’ nude girls, etc. etc.
I am parking my fat ass in a chair at either
the BARGE tourney, the Mirage poker room,
the RIO or other rooms for tourneys, AND
THAT IS IT. I don’t need a hotel room, as I
do not plan on sleeping.
Come find me and experience massive profits
if you can get to my table.

Their early encounters were more of the same. He first saw
Kim in the Mirage poker room, cashing out a rack with $1,000
worth of $25 chips. His own rack held $36 in $1 chips. His
opening words would qualify as the cheesiest pick-up line ever,
except that when he said, “Nice rack, ma’am,” we’re pretty sure
he was talking about her money.
Three days later, when she sidled up to him at the poker
table and invited him to a comp’ed meal at a four-star restau-
rant, he told her, “Sorry, I’m in a game, and my flight leaves in
less than eight hours. Maybe another time.”
It was a match made in heaven.
Within a year, they’d found a house within walking distance
of Garden City. Kim, an inveterate spender, converted JK—a
dyed-in-the-wool penny pincher—to the Tiltboy mindset in
just a few months.
JK presents a fiscal policy statement worthy of a Nobel Prize
in Economics:
Suppose we’re headed out to play cards with $1,000, prepared
to buy in for that. We always stop at Barnes & Noble first and
spend $300. It’s kind of a no-lose deal. If we end up winning, then
the books were free, paid for by our profit. But here’s the beautiful
part. What if we end up losing? Well, it’s a given we were going to
lose everything in our pockets anyway, but now we’ve got $300
worth of books! Either way, anything we buy before a poker session
is free.
His wisdom doesn’t stop there.
He is by far the oldest Tiltboy, having already turned 50 at
the time of this writing. As such, he is a paternal figure, the
Tiltboy ideal of aging gracefully. If we need advice, he is
approachable on the most delicate subjects. In fact, we seldom
need to approach him at all.
Bruce recalls the time JK sat down in a $20-$40 game at
Artichoke Joe’s and said nothing for 15 minutes, not even hello.
The first, and only, thing he said was, “Bengay and testicles are
a bad combination.” He then returned to his silent reverie for
the rest of the session.
He is less silent on the relative merits of Viagra, Cialis,
Levitra and on which position works best for a pre-colonoscopy
enema. (At least we think it was pre-colonoscopy). What’s
important is that his generosity is boundless when it comes to
over-sharing his experiences with us.
Most heartwarming, though, is his mentoring relationship
with Lennie. They share the bond of unwavering pessimism—
each knowing that the social and intellectual pleasures of
Wednesday evening will be punctuated by monetary pain.
Lennie had muddled through denial, anger, bargaining, and
depression. When he finally arrived at acceptance, he thought
his journey was over. JK opened Lenny’s eyes to the little-known
sixth stage: celebration.
JK didn’t merely accept his role as perpetual donor. He
embraced it. Teaching by example, JK meted these messages out
over a period of years, allowing Lennie to come around at his
own pace:

GAME ON at Rafe’s? Is he even back in town?
Excellent! We only lost $120 last night and
don’t feel comfortable with all this extra
cash in the house.
* * *
Sadly, we’re out this week. Maybe we can
just send a check?
* * *
We have extra spewing to do to make up for
last week when we were only able to get as
far as Palo Alto before Max’s screaming
caused us to bail and return home. This
week, we bring earplugs.
* * *
You have shamed me into showing up tonight.
However, I spewed all our cash at Garden
City during “lunch” today, so you’ll have to
list my $500-$900 loss.
* * *
It’s 15 minutes to Rafe’s place, and 45 min-
utes to Steve’s. We’d really rather play at
Rafe’s. Our sitter stays four hours. Steve’s
place means $40 in babysitter fees and only
two and a half hours to donate our weekly
quota.

It was this one that inspired Lennie’s eventual break-
through:

Kim pointed out that we’re still in New
York, and therefore cannot play. Not so
fast! We’re usually good for $300-$400 at
least so, here’s my VISA number, just charge
whatever you think we’d lose tonight to that
and consider us “in.” Maybe I’ll call from
the plane to “see how we are doing.”

Imagine the heartache when JK announced that he and
Kim had bought a house in New Jersey. JK knew he would miss
Lenny most of all, and could only hope he’d had enough time
to get through to him, to make a difference.
When JK responded to weekly roll call with...:

Auto-Pussy for the next four weeks. Working
three jobs to afford the next house payment.

...his eyes filled with tears reading Lenny’s reply:

You should definitely be coming to the game
then. My spewage alone would probably have
you in NJ by May...if you stuck around till
July, you could buy in Connecticut some-
where!

Kim and JK continue to defy the laws of dubious begin-
nings and ill-founded relationships. Even we were skeptical until
their wedding, where they radiated such happiness, beaming at
one another the way only two people with a deep, abiding com-
mitment to an extravagant lifestyle can.
They live off an annuity of sorts—paid out every year by
people who wagered their marriage wouldn’t last. That first year
wasn’t worth much, but their fifth anniversary paid for the
swimming pool. If they make it ten years, they can afford to
move back to Silicon Valley.
We can hardly wait.

Posted by tiltdad | 8:05 AM | E-mail this post   

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