The other was a rowdy German who had been losing all night, throwing hundreds around like confetti. One was a cowboy from Texas - all gold bracelets and fat diamond rings. Yet even with the blessed rush - the phenomenon known to cause other players to weep, shake, and cuss to the point of delirium - two players remained unconverted to my cause. My 'table image,' as they say in poker parlance, was optimum.
Two pairs of aces, a couple of flushes, and a number of successful bluffs had left me with a big pile of chips and an aura of confidence that gave me a huge edge over the other players.
