If you could write a letter to your younger self, what would it say? This is part of a regular series from some of the best-known, most interesting, and successful poker players in history.
Dear Barny,
This is me…you. Which is to say I am you as you would be, if you had never read this letter, the purpose of which is to help us become who we would be if you did.
As I am in a lot of ways exactly who I want to be, I am assuming you did read it, but my many failures and shortcomings lead me to suppose that in your typical lazy way you skimmed it once and tried to get by on the minimum effort. I guess that’s my first bit of advice. Focus; put the work in; concentrate; see things through and finish what you start.
Are you still there? Good, that’s already an improvement.
Here is some good news Barny. It turns out that your instincts about people are pretty good. Trust what your gut is telling you. Be honest, be kind. And this is hard but important: try to do no harm.
It’s ok to care what people think about you, but don’t bother trying to impress arseholes. Say yes as much as possible to new experiences and adventures.
On a cold rainy night in November, you’ll be invited to a house party in Dalston. Leave the Kawasaki at home and take the bus. Then, with your two good legs, never give up the Shotokan karate. That exhilaration, running home after two hours training, nothing will ever replace it. Well, not exactly.
Get educated, you muppet. You’re about to be expelled for truancy. I know smoking a number six behind Cricklewood Milk Depot seems like a good plan right now, but there are people whose actual job it is to sit you down and tell you all the stuff you’ll spend the rest of your life trying to Google. (Google is… never mind.)
Don’t worry too much about your spelling and illegible handwriting that snakes across the page at one percent of the speed your mind demands.
You’re not lazy or stupid… you’re not stupid. It’s called dyslexia, and that *is* how you spell it.
I suppose it’s already too late to consider supporting Arsenal instead of Spurs. Yeah, okay, but don’t get your hopes up. There’s more chance of a blind scouse comedian winning Strictly Come Dancing than Spurs getting the league again.
Go ahead and get tattooed. You’re never gonna be a movie star. Lay off the mind-altering substances. The world is crazy enough, and where you’re headed, you’re gonna need every brain cell you’ve got.
Never believe you know the half of it, keep all your senses open, and read the game.
You are right. The ‘Archway Mob’ sounds way better than ‘The Hendon Mob’ but people will get used to any daft name, won’t they Barny Boatman?
Never ever bluff. *Always* have the hand and see that everyone knows I told you this. Make sure you answer the call from PokerStars. You’ll find yourself embarking on a fabulous tour of all the greatest cities in Europe and beyond, playing the game you love.
But before that happens, if you forget all the rest and I turn out the same flawed, incomplete impostor I am now, just remember this: On a crisp February evening in Paris a shifty-looking Canadian in a purple suit and cravat will set you in on a jack-high board. Don’t waste a timecard (A what? Never mind.) Just call, Barny. Call! And leave the rest to me.
Young Barny replies:
I don’t know by what 21st century sorcery you got that letter to me, but I’m leaving this note for you to read about 25 years into the new millennium.
I gather that poker has become your passion. I get it. I already know the thrill of putting the pieces together and pulling the invisible strings that make a hand play out as you wish.
But don’t forget what else you care about. How you’re moved and angered by injustice and hate. Don’t become too sophisticated or nuanced to see that no ‘legitimate concerns’ can lead to setting fire to homes with people in them. And no atrocity justifies another.
Don’t stay silent for a buck or a quiet life.
And sorry about the broken nose, but you did tell me to keep up the karate.
Images courtesy of Barny Boatman/Rational Intellectual Holdings, Ltd.
