#198: “Felt of Dreams”

People will come, Fintan. They’ll come to Galway for reasons they can’t even fathom. (Either that or race week.) They’ll turn up at the Docks not knowing for sure what they’re doing there. They’ll arrive at your custom-built poker village as innocent as children, holes burnt into their pockets, every sense tingling. “Of course, we don’t mind if you look around”, you’ll say. “Only 5% rake and it’s happy hour between 10 and 11. Have you heard about the bad beat jackpot?”

They’ll pass over the money without even thinking about it: for it is money they have and a piece of the action they lack. And they’ll walk over to their tables, optimistic, excited, bursting with a sense that anything is possible. They will sit indoors in their track-suit bottoms, stained t-shirts and hoodies, content to riffle chips on a perfect sunny afternoon. The ballers. The grinders. The enthusiasts. Some will get to play against their heroes. Some will dream of becoming heroes. Others will play the game as if dipped in magic waters. (You see, there will be a full bar and concessions area on site.)

There will be case cards caught, coolers and clocks called. There will be buttons bought, bubbles and bounties binked. And, of course, there will be bad beats. Yes, the beats will come so thick and fast that some will be reminded of their time with the Christian brothers. WTF, FML, UL and GG as the hopes of some will inevitably be dashed. And they will leave, bemoaning their ill fortune, wondering how it’s possible that the fish and donkeys run so good. But fear not Fintan, as most will be back the next night, addicted to the pain, for poker players are nothing if not masochists.

Yes, people will come. From all around they will come because the one constant through all the years, Fintan, has been poker. Ireland has rolled by like an army of Massey Fergusons. It has been erased like a browser history or a bank’s toxic debt, rebuilt and then erased again. But poker has marked the time. This felt, this game: it’s a part of our past. It reminds us of all that was once good and could be again.

Oh, people will come Fintan. Build it and people will most definitely come.