Norman Chad: Root, root, root for the Moneymaker

This column is dedicated to the memory of the great Bud Furillo, who passed away last week at the age of 80. Upon reading a recent poker column of mine, Furillo – Ohio-born and –bred – e-mailed me: “In Youngstown, if a guy checked and raised, he wound up in Milton Dam.” I dare anyone to check-raise Bud Furillo in the afterlife.

LAS VEGAS – First came the American Revolution, then the Industrial Revolution, then – somewhere between the birth of Amarillo Slim and the death of disco – the poker revolution. Then came online gaming, the hole-card cam and Chris Moneymaker, and nowadays you can’t walk down The Strip without tripping over some pimply Internet wunderkind with a mouse pad, an iPod and a buddy named EFrog45.

Boy, there are a lot of people wandering around here with a chip on their shoulder and a chair.

The World Series of Poker Main Event begins Friday, and here are a couple of staggering numbers:

Nearly 8,000 entrants are expected.

The winner will get between $10 million and $12 million.

I am here as one of the broadcasters for ESPN. What are my qualifications? Other than my good looks and rosy disposition, I have none. This is emblematic of the poker boom – anyone can play, anyone can win and, in fact, anyone does win.

Moneymaker, an accountant from Tennessee, won the Main Event and $2.5 million in 2003. Greg Raymer, a patent attorney from Connecticut, won $5 million in 2004. Joseph Hachem, an ex-chiropractor from Australia, won $7.5 million in 2005. Therein lies the game’s strength: The card room is as great a melting pot as anywhere in America, and every year some poker unknown with an unlikely story walks in and carries home the richest cash prize there is.

Still, I’d like to see a poker pro again take down the de facto world title.

I root for “Miami” John Cernuto, a former air traffic controller fired by President Reagan who since has won three World Series of Poker bracelets. I root for Phil Ivey, who once snuck into Atlantic City card rooms underage and now has five World Series bracelets before he’s 30. I root for Jennifer Harman, who has had two kidney transplants and plays in the highest stakes games in the world. I root for Dewey Tomko, a former kindergarten teacher who twice has finished runner-up in the Main Event.

And how can you not root for Barry Greenstein, 50, one of poker’s best, who donates all his tournament winnings to charity?

After a string of successes, Greenstein decided to turn the soulless pursuit of gambling into a soulful expression of care. “I got such an overwhelming response, I was almost forced, in a good way, to do more positive things,” he said. “The cliché – ‘when you give, you get more back’ – became so true for me.”

Greenstein will walk into the World Series poker room at the Rio knowing he has little chance to win the cherished Main Event – too many people, too much luck involved – but he’s bullish about the biggest tournament in poker getting bigger and bigger.

“Why not let everyone into the party?” he said. “Poker is not exclusionary. I love the fact that you can sit down at a table with an entire demographic of the world. In poker, everyone starts even and everybody’s got a shot at you. That’s its appeal.”

Some of Greenstein’s fellow pros disagree – they’d like to keep the crumb bums and shoe clerks on the rail – but, then again, poker players are famously disagreeable and, well, somewhat insensitive to the world around them.

In Greenstein’s fine book, “Ace on the River,” he tells of the legendary Jack Straus, the 1982 Main Event champion. Straus once received a call at the Horseshoe Casino from a friend who was on death row. The friend said, “It looks like I will be executed. The governor didn’t grant me a pardon.” Straus responded, “That’s pretty bad, but you won’t believe what they’ve been doing to me here.”

If Jack Straus were alive today, I’d be rooting for him, too.

Ask The Slouch

Q. The Seahawks were jobbed against the Steelers in Super Bowl 40, as were the Mavericks against the Heat in the NBA Finals, plus umpires nowadays couldn’t find the strike zone with a radar detector. When does it all end? (Lee Stewart; Troy, N.Y.)

A. Last time people: STOP WHINING ABOUT THE CALLS. All the focus is on officiating now, every moment of every game. The joy is gone. It would be like going to the movies and, instead of getting lost in the story and the characters, concentrating on the sound editing and the set design.

Q. In football, when a player loses the ball, it’s called a fumble. In basketball, it’s called a steal. Between a fumble and a steal, where would you place your mishandling of your various ex-wives? (Ed Anderson; Kirkland, Wash.)

A. In tennis, I believe it’s called an “unforced error.”

Q. The Christians have Bethlehem, the Jewish have the Wailing Wall and the Muslims have Mecca. Does The Slouch have Latrobe, Pa.? (Ron Eureka; Streetsboro, Ohio)

A. Pay the man, Shirley.