Where else could I find a place where failure was not only expected, but was hoped for? For when you’re sitting around an online poker table, you’re joined by at least one other and possibly nine other likeminded souls and, though they are out to take your money, you are, for a short time, willfully and inextricably bound to them. If you stick around long enough, you will witness them fail miserably and they will be courteous enough to return the favor. The first friend I made online turned out to be my best: Second Gunman, a hotel receptionist in Blackpool, England. For the first few days I played, I was so nervous that I refrained from any online chatting. I’d noticed the chat going on (there’s a small oval box where players talk to one another) but I wanted to concentrate on the cards and make sure I made the right moves: it was one thing to channel Doyle Brunson, another to channel me, but I wasn’t ready to do both at the same time. It wasn’t until my sixth day playing that I noticed I was often playing with the same people.
