(BOOK REVIEW) Moneymaker: How an Amateur Poker Player Turned $40 Into $2.5 Million at the World Series of Poker

[Louis Cypher]

Reviewed by A. J. Jacobs The New York Times

FRIDAY, MAY 6, 2005


I have a feeling that the professional players threw the 2003 World Series of Poker. They held a meeting, took a vote and decided to let this accountant from Tennessee who'd never entered a live tournament walk away with the $2.5 million first prize. If so, it was a clever business move, a smart bet. Because now, every schlemiel with a pair of mirrored sunglasses and a rudimentary grasp of the rules of poker thinks he can play cards with the pros. And you can be sure 99.9 percent of them will leave with drained wallets and the sound of snickering in their ears.

Put it this way: After reading "Moneymaker: How an Amateur Poker Player Turned $40 Into $2.5 Million at the World Series of Poker," I was half convinced that I could wangle my way to the final table of the World Series at Binion's Horseshoe Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas. And I play poker at a third-grade level. This book is 240 pages of false hope. It may cost $23.95, but I have a hunch it will cause more people to lose more money than any other book this year.

"Moneymaker" - a passably written, lively story - is about a 27-year-old fist-pumping former frat boy named Chris Moneymaker (requisite point: Moneymaker is, in fact, his real name). He entered an Internet poker tournament for $40, won it, got flown to Las Vegas for the World Series, bluffed and bumbled and outmaneuvered 838 other players, and ended up with a waist-high stack of cash. After which, he proudly relates, he got really really drunk.

Moneymaker's book comes at what I have to assume is the end of a landslide of Texas Hold'em books. His is not on the highbrow end of the genre. If you want poker poetry, read "Positively Fifth Street," in which James McManus takes detours to talk about John von Neumann's game theory, "Finnegans Wake" and van Gogh. Or "The Biggest Game in Town," by A. Alvarez, which explores the Freudian theory of gambling as sublimation. Or even "Big Deal," by Anthony Holden, in which he describes the tournament's "riffle of chips, like the chatter of cicadas."

No, the writing here is aggressively regular-guyish. Moneymaker and his co-author, Daniel Paisner - who has also written books with Willard Scott, Montel Williams, Ed Koch and Governor George Pataki of New York - fill the book with phrases like "the butt end of my college years" and references to "Fast Times at Ridgemont High." None of your fancy metaphors here.

However, there is plenty of swagger to go around. Moneymaker seems eager to show off his quasi-outlaw side. You read about his visit to a seedy strip club and his collapse on the carpet from too much booze. Self-deprecation isn't his forte. When he writes, "I don't set this out to brag," you can be pretty much guaranteed that bragging is about to take place, just as the phrase "I'm not trying to be difficult" all but ensures the speaker is about to be a complete jerk.

The sections on Moneymaker's childhood and early adulthood are fairly unremarkable. We learn he gambled on football, horses and pool. He bought a red Infiniti G20. He drank a bunch of beer. He gambled on blackjack. Although Moneymaker, now a professional poker player living in Tennessee, admits he was a compulsive gambler, this is perhaps the least introspective addiction memoir in history.

But the parts about the tournament itself are entertaining and vivid. Moneymaker (and Paisner) convey the weirdness of the tale: an everyguy wreaking havoc on the entire poker establishment. As he points out, the World Series of Poker is the most startlingly democratic competition around: "Imagine being able to buy your way into the Indy 500 or the U.S. Open."

Moneymaker gives us a day-by-day, bet-by-bet look at his victory, with a peek at his strategy - or lack thereof. He acknowledges he often shifted his tactics from aggressive to safe, partly to keep the other players off balance and partly because he was just a bit clueless.

In the end, "Moneymaker" is the flip side of the Protestant work ethic. Why suffer through all that tedious heavy lifting and perseverance when you can get instant fame and fortune with minimal energy expenditure? It's an alarmingly seductive narrative.

I have a feeling that the professional players threw the 2003 World Series of Poker. They held a meeting, took a vote and decided to let this accountant from Tennessee who'd never entered a live tournament walk away with the $2.5 million first prize. If so, it was a clever business move, a smart bet. Because now, every schlemiel with a pair of mirrored sunglasses and a rudimentary grasp of the rules of poker thinks he can play cards with the pros. And you can be sure 99.9 percent of them will leave with drained wallets and the sound of snickering in their ears.

Put it this way: After reading "Moneymaker: How an Amateur Poker Player Turned $40 Into $2.5 Million at the World Series of Poker," I was half convinced that I could wangle my way to the final table of the World Series at Binion's Horseshoe Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas. And I play poker at a third-grade level. This book is 240 pages of false hope. It may cost $23.95, but I have a hunch it will cause more people to lose more money than any other book this year.

"Moneymaker" - a passably written, lively story - is about a 27-year-old fist-pumping former frat boy named Chris Moneymaker (requisite point: Moneymaker is, in fact, his real name). He entered an Internet poker tournament for $40, won it, got flown to Las Vegas for the World Series, bluffed and bumbled and outmaneuvered 838 other players, and ended up with a waist-high stack of cash. After which, he proudly relates, he got really really drunk.

Moneymaker's book comes at what I have to assume is the end of a landslide of Texas Hold'em books. His is not on the highbrow end of the genre. If you want poker poetry, read "Positively Fifth Street," in which James McManus takes detours to talk about John von Neumann's game theory, "Finnegans Wake" and van Gogh. Or "The Biggest Game in Town," by A. Alvarez, which explores the Freudian theory of gambling as sublimation. Or even "Big Deal," by Anthony Holden, in which he describes the tournament's "riffle of chips, like the chatter of cicadas."

No, the writing here is aggressively regular-guyish. Moneymaker and his co-author, Daniel Paisner - who has also written books with Willard Scott, Montel Williams, Ed Koch and Governor George Pataki of New York - fill the book with phrases like "the butt end of my college years" and references to "Fast Times at Ridgemont High." None of your fancy metaphors here.

However, there is plenty of swagger to go around. Moneymaker seems eager to show off his quasi-outlaw side. You read about his visit to a seedy strip club and his collapse on the carpet from too much booze. Self-deprecation isn't his forte. When he writes, "I don't set this out to brag," you can be pretty much guaranteed that bragging is about to take place, just as the phrase "I'm not trying to be difficult" all but ensures the speaker is about to be a complete jerk.

The sections on Moneymaker's childhood and early adulthood are fairly unremarkable. We learn he gambled on football, horses and pool. He bought a red Infiniti G20. He drank a bunch of beer. He gambled on blackjack. Although Moneymaker, now a professional poker player living in Tennessee, admits he was a compulsive gambler, this is perhaps the least introspective addiction memoir in history.

But the parts about the tournament itself are entertaining and vivid. Moneymaker (and Paisner) convey the weirdness of the tale: an everyguy wreaking havoc on the entire poker establishment. As he points out, the World Series of Poker is the most startlingly democratic competition around: "Imagine being able to buy your way into the Indy 500 or the U.S. Open."

Moneymaker gives us a day-by-day, bet-by-bet look at his victory, with a peek at his strategy - or lack thereof. He acknowledges he often shifted his tactics from aggressive to safe, partly to keep the other players off balance and partly because he was just a bit clueless.

In the end, "Moneymaker" is the flip side of the Protestant work ethic. Why suffer through all that tedious heavy lifting and perseverance when you can get instant fame and fortune with minimal energy expenditure? It's an alarmingly seductive narrative.

I have a feeling that the professional players threw the 2003 World Series of Poker. They held a meeting, took a vote and decided to let this accountant from Tennessee who'd never entered a live tournament walk away with the $2.5 million first prize. If so, it was a clever business move, a smart bet. Because now, every schlemiel with a pair of mirrored sunglasses and a rudimentary grasp of the rules of poker thinks he can play cards with the pros. And you can be sure 99.9 percent of them will leave with drained wallets and the sound of snickering in their ears.

Put it this way: After reading "Moneymaker: How an Amateur Poker Player Turned $40 Into $2.5 Million at the World Series of Poker," I was half convinced that I could wangle my way to the final table of the World Series at Binion's Horseshoe Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas. And I play poker at a third-grade level. This book is 240 pages of false hope. It may cost $23.95, but I have a hunch it will cause more people to lose more money than any other book this year.

"Moneymaker" - a passably written, lively story - is about a 27-year-old fist-pumping former frat boy named Chris Moneymaker (requisite point: Moneymaker is, in fact, his real name). He entered an Internet poker tournament for $40, won it, got flown to Las Vegas for the World Series, bluffed and bumbled and outmaneuvered 838 other players, and ended up with a waist-high stack of cash. After which, he proudly relates, he got really really drunk.

Moneymaker's book comes at what I have to assume is the end of a landslide of Texas Hold'em books. His is not on the highbrow end of the genre. If you want poker poetry, read "Positively Fifth Street," in which James McManus takes detours to talk about John von Neumann's game theory, "Finnegans Wake" and van Gogh. Or "The Biggest Game in Town," by A. Alvarez, which explores the Freudian theory of gambling as sublimation. Or even "Big Deal," by Anthony Holden, in which he describes the tournament's "riffle of chips, like the chatter of cicadas."

No, the writing here is aggressively regular-guyish. Moneymaker and his co-author, Daniel Paisner - who has also written books with Willard Scott, Montel Williams, Ed Koch and Governor George Pataki of New York - fill the book with phrases like "the butt end of my college years" and references to "Fast Times at Ridgemont High." None of your fancy metaphors here.

However, there is plenty of swagger to go around. Moneymaker seems eager to show off his quasi-outlaw side. You read about his visit to a seedy strip club and his collapse on the carpet from too much booze. Self-deprecation isn't his forte. When he writes, "I don't set this out to brag," you can be pretty much guaranteed that bragging is about to take place, just as the phrase "I'm not trying to be difficult" all but ensures the speaker is about to be a complete jerk.

The sections on Moneymaker's childhood and early adulthood are fairly unremarkable. We learn he gambled on football, horses and pool. He bought a red Infiniti G20. He drank a bunch of beer. He gambled on blackjack. Although Moneymaker, now a professional poker player living in Tennessee, admits he was a compulsive gambler, this is perhaps the least introspective addiction memoir in history.

But the parts about the tournament itself are entertaining and vivid. Moneymaker (and Paisner) convey the weirdness of the tale: an everyguy wreaking havoc on the entire poker establishment. As he points out, the World Series of Poker is the most startlingly democratic competition around: "Imagine being able to buy your way into the Indy 500 or the U.S. Open."

Moneymaker gives us a day-by-day, bet-by-bet look at his victory, with a peek at his strategy - or lack thereof. He acknowledges he often shifted his tactics from aggressive to safe, partly to keep the other players off balance and partly because he was just a bit clueless.

In the end, "Moneymaker" is the flip side of the Protestant work ethic. Why suffer through all that tedious heavy lifting and perseverance when you can get instant fame and fortune with minimal energy expenditure? It's an alarmingly seductive narrative.

[Soonerfan64]

For a second there, I thought I was caught up in a remake of GroundHog's Day

[David Matthews]

Hilarious review!

[rabbit]

Positively Fifth Street is the one to read. Not only does McManus, a first-rate writer, provide a fine account of the WSOP and the characters associated with it, he also weaves in the saga of Ted Binion and Sandra Murphy.

How can you not love a book that begins like this: "A nubile blonde squats on her boyfriend's bare chest and he's too stoned to do much about it."

[The Actuary]

Does he still owe his local from his pre-stardom days?

[David Matthews]

The reviewer snidely mentiones how Moneymaker says he got drunk after he won the WSOP. He writes it as though Moneymaker is a dumbass.

Thing is, the emotional release from winning the WSOP must be HUGE. Several days of poker, poker, and more poker... all the while you can lose all your chips on the next hand. I would think just about anyone would want to have a few drinks after winning that thing.

[Bobby C]

Positively Fifth Street also detailed the author's trip to Spearmint Rhino after his quarter-million-dollar fourth-place finish. He got wasted, and dropped a few GRRR.

In contrast, winner Chris Ferguson's party in the Ranch Steakhouse upstairs was a family affair.

(I still can't believe TJ didn't win that one. Over and over, the guy kept putting his chips in with much the best of it.)

[The Original Gifted 1]

There wasnt anyone luckier than moneymaker in the history of WSOP.

*calls all in bet against humberto with pocket 8s against pocket As and gets an 8 on the flop (or was it the turn)
*Calls all in bet with pocket 3s against chad bull shit he knew chad didnt have it asking for low cards he is just a bad player
*the worst of all Money calls iveys all in with 3 of a kind Qs ivey has a full boat 9s full over qs and money gets an A on the river to make a bigger full boat.
* And then of course the "bluff of the century" he is a really bad player i have no doubts he will never win anything big again.

[jjgold]

He is broke

Most who write boooks are broke

[Bobby C]

Yeah, I have a lot more respect for players who don't need a lucky break here and there to win an 800-player tourney. There is a long list of such players. Why, just off the top of my head, I could name the following:

[Bobby C]

You make another excellent point: Getting all your chips in with trips, ace kicker, is a horrible play. Especially when you can see your opponent's hole cards, and he has a full house.

Wait a second...he couldn't see Ivey's hole cards, could he?

If he couldn't, how can this play be called "worst of all"?

[BuzzRavanaugh]

Originally posted by: The Original Gifted 1
There wasnt anyone luckier than moneymaker in the history of WSOP.

*calls all in bet against humberto with pocket 8s against pocket As and gets an 8 on the flop (or was it the turn)
*Calls all in bet with pocket 3s against chad bull shit he knew chad didnt have it asking for low cards he is just a bad player
*the worst of all Money calls iveys all in with 3 of a kind Qs ivey has a full boat 9s full over qs and money gets an A on the river to make a bigger full boat.
* And then of course the "bluff of the century" he is a really bad player i have no doubts he will never win anything big again.

Believe me he wasn't the luckiest- his was just filmed and shown 800 times.

[nehpets]

*the worst of all Money calls iveys all in with 3 of a kind Qs ivey has a full boat 9s full over qs and money gets an A on the river to make a bigger full boat.

who would fold this hand?

[Dante]

Moneymaker was the LUCKIEST AZZ to every play poker. simple as that...PURE LUCK he got that far ...[img]i/expressions/face-icon-small-confused.gif[/img]

[jayhawk]

Bobby is correct. The best players in the world would love to get all their money in a pot where they are a 3-1 fave. Now if they have to do this 5 times they have to be extremely lucky to win all of them. With the size of the field at the WSOP it takes that and a lot more.

How is it lucky to bluff a pro out of a pot?
How is it lucky to put a pro on unpaired high cards when you have a small pocket pair and are willing to enter a pot with a small advantage? I guess it's luck when you win.

[Bobby C]

I won a 1000+ player tournament online last summer.

I'm guessing I had all my chips in on a coin flip about 20 times, and I won every single one of them.

You can't beat a field that big without a ton of luck.

[The Original Gifted 1]

Ok first of all let me rephrase what i said about the pot with ivey.

Of course you would call u would be a monkey not to call with trip Qs with an ace kicker but as usual he got the card he needed after that. What i mean when i say he had the LUCk is that no matter what happened in his pots he always got help i dont think he out played many people, he knocked out Jonhy chan with a hand that that could not lose top pair flush draw with an Ace. Of course you need luck to win a tornament of that size its impossible to win without the luck but as you watch other tournamnets like for example Raymers win he out played his opponents hand after hand and sure he was lucky with some races but he always had the best of it going in (besides beating mclain with pocket 10s against pocket As).

The point im making is that raymer and moneymaker are both world champs but the difference in skill and ability is massive, moneymaker always was behind and got out of it somehow and alot of people see that except u bobby c yes you do need luck but moneymaker's was beyond a joke if he purcahsed a lottery ticket he would have come close.

When i play tourneys i have no luck and im not kidding i was going to start a new thread but i might as well say it here Paradise poker is a crock of shit i have been nailed by the river card about 75% of the time i dont understand it the river card always fuks me up now do you need luck? yes you do but also you need skill and by watching moneymaker he doesnt have it, ill be very suprised if he wins anything again unless he finds that bull shit luck that got him through. Anyway those are my thoughts.