Poker and Alligators

When I lived in Naples, FL., I found lodging at a boarding house just outside Marco Island. The place was old Florida with swampland, cypress trees and overhanging vines, and alligators.

I worked for the Palm Beach Post as a reporter. Two guys in their late 20s stayed at the boarding house and we became acquainted. They were curious about what I did for a living and I told them.

Albert, a good looking Cajun type with curly black hair, said, 'You mean people pay you money just for writing words?'

I nodded. 'That's about the size of it.'

He just shook his head. 'If I would have known about that, I wouldn't have dropped out of school.'

I asked him what he and his brother did. The brother, Derek, said, 'We catch alligators.'

Now THAT was interesting.

'Tell you what,' I said. 'You take me on one of your alligator-hunting expeditions and I'll teach you how to play poker.'

They shook my hand and said, 'Deal!'

The following Saturday I met the brothers down at the pier where they had a boat big enough for the three of us. Albert started the engine and we headed into the harbor. They headed toward Bonita Springs, then cut the engine and glided toward shore.

I could see a large pipeline big enough for a man to crawl through and asked about it.

'That's where the gators hang out,' said Derek, smiling. 'Just watch.'

Albert stripped off his shirt and placed it neatly on the floor of the boat. Then he plunged into the water and went into the pipe.

I just shook my head. 'Is he crazy or does he have guts?', I wondered aloud.

'A little of both,' said Derek.

Minutes passed. Suddenly I heard thrashing inside the pipeline.

'He's got one,' said Derek calmly.

A minute later Albert came out of the pipe, riding on the back of an eight-foot alligator. He looked like a bronco rider on a horse -- but one with a long green tail and long snapping teeth.

We spent the morning chasing after alligators and when we returned to shore, I kept my promise and taught them the fundamentals of poker. That evening, we went onto a casino cruise ship for a night of gambling.

Albert and Derek plunged into playing poker with the same gusto they had shown going after gators. They played in a low-limit game and won a couple of hands. But they spent most of their time at the bar or dancing to the four-piece band that was playing.

I don't think I turned them into winning poker players, and I know they definitely did not turn me into an alligator hunter. But I did write a feature article about them for my newspaper.

Before leaving Naples and moving to the Caribbean, I asked Albert the secret behind his bravado.

It's no secret,' he said in his Cajun accent. 'The alligator is more scared of you than you are of him.'

Wanna bet?

Author: Geno Lawrenzi Jr.

(Geno Lawrenzi Jr. is an international journalist, magazine author and ghostwriter and poker player who lives in Phoenx, AZ. He has published 2,000 articles in 50 magazines and 125 newspapers. If you want to share a gambling story or book idea with him, send an email to glawrenzi@gmail.com ).