LOADING

Type to search

Everyday Life Reflections Shared Stories

Poker Nights on Covington Ridge

jneff December 14, 2015
2760 Views 01 Comment

Preston knew what he was doing. John, he was decent. As for myself, I didn’t have a clue. But, half of poker (in my unprofessional opinion) was bluffing, and I was damn good at it. The game was Texas Hold ‘Em, and we played almost every Friday night that summer. I got better and better as time went on, but my skill level was of little concern to me. Hell, I’d fold each hand I got if it meant that I was able to play with John and Preston. What meant the most to me at the time, and even to this very day, was the camaraderie of it all. I loved hearing “shit, why’d I fold,” or “damn, that’s a good hand,” or, my personal favorite, “you’re going down Neff.” We cursed like sailors and played the game like we’d been playing it for years. Aside from Preston, few of us completely knew how to play, but that never mattered. We’d fold with straights, flushes, and full houses simply because we wanted the privilege of exclaiming “Shit! I should have kept my hand!”

Out of all of the boys in our little “poker gang,” John was the coolest, but none of that made any difference to him because he hung out with us anyway, and we respected him for that. As for the rest of us, well, we did our own thing. At a time when our bodies were too awkward to perform on the athletic field, and too confused to know which girls turned us on, we had each other. Before all the high school dances, parties, and other social events that unintentional divided us among the social classes, we had each other. Before the college applications, rejections, and admissions, we had each other. We had each other, and we had our Friday night poker games at Preston’s house. Looking back, I wouldn’t want it any other way.

Tags:

You Might also Like

1 Comments

  1. James Warren December 16, 2015

    What a great story of friendship! Thanks for sharing!

    Reply

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *