Tell Doyle We Got a Deal

If anybody knows where Doyle Brunson is hanging out these days, tell him we got a deal.

I don't care what it is that Texas Dolly comes up with -- a book idea, a movie, or even a shrimp processing plant in Louisiana. I'm in it with him and we don't have to sign a contract. His word and handshake are good enough for me.

Why am I making this offer in public and in front of thousands of folks around the world who are members of our international gambling websites? The answer is quite simple really.

Doyle Brunson doesn't do business with contracts. Never has and probably never will. He figures if his handshake and word isn't good enough, he doesn't want to do business with you. Period.

I know this isn't just talk on his part. I learned it the hard way.

Years ago I met Brunson at Binion's Horseshoe in Las Vegas. He was playing poker there and I asked Benny Binion who I was well acquainted with to introduce me to him. Benny, an accommodating sort, was happy to oblige.

'Wait til he takes a break,' whispered Benny. 'We wouldn't want to interrupt him in the middle of a hand.'

While Doyle was playing, I had a chance to observe him closely. He didn't look like my idea of a big-time no-limit cash player. A big man with a Stetson, he reminded me of a grocer in my home town, the kind off person who says, 'Howdy, or 'Yes, Ma'am' or 'No, Sir, and not somebody who would and could take all your cash in a heartbeat.

Finally Texas Dolly took a break and got up. Benny moved over quickly.

'Doyle, I'd like to introduce you to my friend, Geno. He writes under the pen-name of Rick Lanning and he'd like to interview you for his newspaper,' Benny said

Brunson was chewing on a toothpick. He nodded. 'I reckon we could do that,' he said

We found a booth in the 24-hour cafe that was a mainstay at Binion's for many years until the new owners of the Horseshoe closed it, which I believe was a big mistake. We ordered coffee and talked.

And talked

And talked.

Brunson was generous with his time and answered every question I asked. He told me about growing up in Texas, his ambition to be a professional basketball player. He talked about his childhood friends, his early gambling, and setting records as a track star on his high school team.

He gave me the details on the serious accident that crushed his leg and knocked him out of his dreams to be an athlete and how he switched his attention to poker because he was so good at it and it paid a lot more than becoming a high school coach, which was his only other interest.

He also told me about being stricken with cancer and how doctors gave him six months to live. He and his wife prayed about it, he went into surgery -- and all the cancer was gone.

'That made me believe in miracles,' he said simply. 'I've been a believer ever since. God is real and don't let anybody tell you He isn't.'

After about two hours, somebody from the poker room came by the table. In an apologetic voice he said, 'Um, Doyle, the boys upstairs are kind of wonderin' if you plan to come back to the game. We're holding your chips.'

Brunson waved him away. 'In a minute,' he said. 'I'm talkin' to my friend He's gonna write a story about me.'

Before he went back to the poker game, I said, 'Doyle, your life is fascinating. If you ever wrote a book, it could be a best-seller. Have you ever thought of writing your life story?'

He drained his cup of coffee. 'I have,' he said. 'I've thought about it a lot.'

'Would you consider letting me help you write it?'

He looked at me and smiled 'I might, Son,' he said. 'What do you have in mind?"

I was excited. 'We could get a contract and I'd start interviewing you and your friends --'

Texas Dolly held up his hand. 'Whoa,' he said not unkindly. 'No contracts. I don't believe in them. If my word ain't good enough...' He shrugged. 'We can't do business. I have to get back to the game. Think about it and see me'

I would like to say I was smart enough to take Doyle up on his offer. I wasn't. If it was a bluff, it was a good one. I went back to my newspaper job in Phoenix, wrote stories about bank robberies, plane crashes, street gangs and Mexican fiestas, while Brunson got together with his friends David Sklansky, Bobby Baldwin, Mike Caro, Chip Reese and others and penned 'Super-System,' one of the best-selling poker books of all time.

A couple of days ago, I picked up another book by Brunson, 'Poker Wisdom of a Champion.' It was published by Cardoza Publishing Co. and contains a forward by Mike Caro. It reads great.

P.S. If anybody knows where Doyle is hanging out these days, tell him to send me an email. I have a project I'd like to discuss with him. No contracts involved. A handshake will do just fine.

Author: Geno Lawrenzi Jr.

(Geno Lawrenzi Jr. is an international journalist, magazine author and ghostwriter. If you have a unique gambling story to share with him, you may qualify for a cash award. Send your story with all the details to glawrenzi@gmail.com ).