The Fever CHAPTER 9

The thrill was not enough.
Recently, the idea of playing the games by choosing my battles started
to lack its shiny luster. I wanted more of a thrill. I needed
something regain that shiny appeal.
So I stopped playing the games, and I started gambling.
The thrill was unbelievable- putting thousands of dollars on the line
and feeling the rise of adrenaline as the final card turned or the
anguish of defeat as the opponent put you right where he wanted you.
It was even more addictingthen when I started. I couldn't get enough
of it.
I had no worries. I was way over the mark that I needed to achieve,
and had much to spare. Even so, I started bringing more and more money
toeach event. I got scared once in awhile, losing immense amounts of
chips, but I regained them back slowly.
I pushed a stock of chips across the table, equating nearly eight
times the amount of my paycheck that I had received last night. This
was the nerve wrecking part of the game. It all depended on what he
had; but the thrill of emotions and ecstasy at the end kept me coming
back to the table.
My opponent called my bet, pushing in the remainder of the chips he
had left. I nervously started chomping on the end of my cigar,
spilling aresidue onto my silk tie. These final cars could determine
whether I win yet another night or whether I go home, down thousands
of dollars.
I flipped my cards first. He followed suit.
"Three of a kind," he announced proudly.
"Full house," I replied, cocky.
"Bastard," he responded with a look of anger across his face.
And that was where the game ended. I took the remainder of the chips
from the table and went to cash in. $48 grand wasnot at all a bad
night of gambling. I was getting better every time. It seemed as if my
luck never ran out. The thrill of winning never went away. It was my
life. It was like a fever, a thrill that never went away. It was hot,
always exciting, always changing.
"And I'll raise twenty-grand saying that you don't have that flush
thatyou are trying to make usbelieve you have!"
"Ha-ha I call!"
"I bet you do, trying to scare me away from all that money!"
"Flush! Told you ha-ha!"
"Ah whatever, it's only twenty-grand!"
I leaned back in my chair after pulling all the chips towards my end
of the table. I folded my hand behind my head and smiled as the dealer
shuffled and dealt yet another hand.
Bigger money just meant bigger excitement. I had gotten lucky way too
many times, boosting my winnings tremendously. Some people I gambled
with were gambling away six figures like it was nothing. This nasty
habit dominated my life.
Bigger gambles just made for bigger wins.
Tonight, I was not havinga good night. I was so boozed up that I could
barely sit straight in my chair. I had lost almost$350,000 tonight. I
couldn't figure out why I continued to play with just a small stack of
chips.I had told myself I was going to be careful tonight since
tomorrow I needed to pay the man inthe hooded sweatshirt a quarter of
a million dollars.
This dark evening, I was playing some of the richest men in all of the
Chicago-Milwaukee area. We met aboard a private yacht on Lake Michigan
to play the biggest game that I had ever experienced. Buy-in was a
half-million dollars- almost half of what I owned. I had just hit the
million mark a few days ago.
The night had been going fairly well. There were a dozen of us to
start, and slowly but surely everyone was weeded down to just two
people. Me and this large, plump man. He hid his eyes with his
suit-matching tailored hat and chewed on a cigar.
I was having a hard time surviving from round to round, struggling to
stay in. I was amazed how theplump man weeded through everyone else,
never seeming to harm me, just worried about eliminating the rest of
the competition. Nothingmade sense to me.
Game after game we played, and I slowly bled chips. I started to gain
some back and my stack once again started to increase. Then the
opportunity of a lifetime showed itself.
I had just gotten dealt pocket rockets.
I tried not to show the excitement in my face as Islid the cards
closer to mychest. The first round of betting started, both checking.
The first cards were flipped.
Another ace showed itself right away.
My turn to bet, I tried to sucker this man for as much money as he
wouldallow. The next card flipped.
Nothing I could use.
The booze getting to my head, I was convinced nothing could stop me
this game. I pushed all in,nearly two-million dollarsworth of chips,
trying to get the large amount he had put in and then scarehim away.
He called my bet.
He must have seen me blush as a smile crept across his face- the first
sign of emotion I had seen all night. He had more chips, about
two-hundred thousand worth left.
The final card was flipped: nothing that could help me.
We flipped our cards simultaneously. What the dealer said broke my heart in two.
"Mr. Jackson wins with a Royal Flush, awarded 3.8 million dollars."
Clapping continued from behind us. Feeling defeated, the alcohol took
over my mind as I made the mistake that would change my life forever.
"I would like to buy in foranother round," I told the dealer. The
clapping stopped and Mr. Jackson just laughed as the dealer supplied
me with a rather small amount of chips compared to his large stack. I
was taking a big risk. This was all themoney I had left- the money I
needed to pay back the man tomorrow. But I didn't think about that; I
just thought about not going down without a fight and refusing to lose
the biggest game of my life. I couldn't, I wouldn't, accept defeat.
Games continued, all eyeson the two men at the table. I started out
better than I had done the whole night, but then I started to lose,
and lose big. I couldn't believe what I was doing as the remainder of
my chips entered the center of the pile. "I should never havehad that
last Jack Daniels," I thought to myself.
My heart broke as I saw the five cards laying face up. I had just lost
all my money that I had earned over the last two years within the last
hour. I didn't think about the money that I needed for the next day- I
just thought about how I hadlost one-million dollars inone night.
As I walked back outside to my Mercedes, a limo pulled up, all windows
tinted. It stopped at the dock where the yacht was Mr. Jackson started
walking towards it. The driver, a man in a black hooded sweatshirt,
got out and opened the doorfor his client.
"How was your night tonight Uncle Jack?"
"Well I won again. And I suckered this one kid for a couple million dollars."
"Well that's not bad at all," he said as he closed the door and looked
in my direction. He went nearly hysterical after he saw me and saw the
defeated look on my face. All the alcohol I had drunken earlier kept
me from comprehending what was going on.
I went home and attempted to fall asleep, but sleep wouldn't come. I
kept rolling around, wondering, and starting to comprehend the outcome
of my actions.
Tomorrow would be a