The Turtle and the Hare

One of my favorite restaurants in Phoenix before it closed its doors to make room for the expansion of a nearby university was Bill Johnson's Big Apple.

Patrons liked the restaurant for many reasons, not the least of which was Bill Johnson himself. Bill was a big guy who never seemed to be without a smile. He had been a cowboy in his earlier life as he called it, a wrangler who knew horses and cowmen, and who had an eye for women that he never lost.

The regulars liked his slogan which he used in his ads and on the large neon sign framed by a steer with longhorns, 'WE FEED YOU, WE DON'T FOOL YOU.

Attractive waitresses in western garb wearing boots, Stetsons and fake guns in holsters walked on the sawdust-covered floor serving deep dish hot apple pie, great steaks, barbecue beef, endless coffee in big cowboy cups and inch-thick Texas toast.

For many years, Bill hosted a nightly radio show from a booth in the restaurant where he interviewed guests and played country western music. He even interviewed me one night. I had been writing a column, 'Rick By Night,' for a weekly newspaper, using my pen-name Rick Lanning.

Bill, who was a gambler himself, called me into his booth and while we sipped strong cowboy coffee served by one of his comely waitresses he asked me what it took to win a poker tournament.

The question caught me by surprise, but I recovered quickly.

'Bill, do you remember the story of the turtle and the hare?,' I said.

'Sure do. Wasn't that Hans Christian Anderson or Aesop's Fables?'

'Something like that. The moral of the story was that the race doesn't always belong to the swift. In the fairy tale, the hare or the rabbit got off to a speedy start and was leading the turtle by far. Everybody thought the race was over. Everybody except the turtle, who just kept plodding along. Well, the hare became over-confident. Thinking he had already won the race, the rabbit stopped to eat clover or sniff the flowers or to talk to friends along the way.

'The turtle never stopped. It just kept plodding along step by step and, lo and behold -- it won the race. Surprised everybody, especially the rabbit who had been the front-runner. That's the way it is with a poker tournament,' I said.

'No person can win a poker tournament in the first hour of competition. You can lose it if you get rid of all of your chips, but you sure can't win it. On the same note, you can't win a tournament in the second hour, but you can sure lose it. Same with the third hour.

'Like the turtle in the race, you need to pace yourself. There are times when you need to speed up, of course, especially when you are dealt a dynamite 'nut' hand. Those times will be few and far between, but when they happen, you need to strike hard. But most poker tournaments are won by the plodders.'

Bill raised his coffee cup. 'Three cheers for the turtles of this world,' he said.

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 ).