Let me start by apologizing for taking so long to talk about my departed friend. More and more of late, I’ve been having difficulty finding my muse. I’ve grown more cynical of the poker world in recent months and as my cynicism grows, the enthusiasm that’s always been the source of my words has waned. In a time where more than ever I needed the kind of enthusiasm Shronk epitomized, I lost perhaps the purest source I’ve ever been exposed to. After quickly jotting down one brief story about our hanging out in the media room at the 2007 WSOP, my keyboard dried up. As Matt Parvis and my missed-WSOP program deadline can attest, I couldn’t write a word. Full credit to those whose pens proved more courageous than mine and thanks to PDParv for his patience.
We’ve bypassed the boom era, that spark we all remember replaced by UIGEA stormclouds. I see a poker world that’s allowed cheaters and thieves to go unpunished and actually thrive. I see myself five years ago, with a bright-eyed desire to legitimize tournament poker as a sport and I see that I’ve failed as promises of amateurs beating pros dot advertisements as the primary lure. Instead of “One day, you can play as well as these guys”, it’s “Today, you can come beat them right now!” and it drives me nuts because its not true and it tears us away from what I’d naively hoped would be this community’s goal. This attitude decimates the foundation of skill we’ve established, and in turn serves as constant reminder to our detractors that this is the devil’s gambling. We’re biting ourselves in the ass. With celebrity mattering far more than results and the best of the world constantly being brought back to the pack in the perception game, how can this game be taken seriously on those levels? I’m as much to blame as anyone for playing along with that game. Hell, I actually made fun of Shannon Shorr a few weeks ago for thinking he was more deserving of NHUPC invitation than Shannon Elizabeth. What have I become?
In December of ’07, Shronk and I were both on the brink of life changes, with the Road unable to afford him and he unable to pay rent as a result while a part of me desperately wanted to move to Vegas so I might further pursue my interactions with the players. There was talk of a roomie situation between the two of us (This was after Bartley’s couch) in passing with promises to revisit. Then, when Chip passed away, Shronk invited me into his home and to serve as cook and chauffeur for the week-long duration of my stay. Seeing the misery he was living in, how lonely his life was at that particular time was the final decision maker in my not moving to Vegas. I know it’s silly, but I can’t help but wonder now if my moving could have helped this all to be avoided in some way.
While my countenance regarding work, poker and Vegas grow continually darker, his has always stayed at full brightness. It’s because of that and my building fears about poker that I wondered for the last forty-eight hours or so whether Sunday was the day poker’s music died, with the departed dose of goodness leaving only the greed behind.
Now obviously, that’s a lot of weight to put on one man’s shoulders and Shronk more exemplified our former enthusiasm than carried it, but that was where I was at until I finally got to hear the tribute tonight. I think Ali and Joe and Gavin and Court and BJ and Huff and whomever else was in attendance did some fantastic things. They helped us remember a wonderful guy who would never in a million years have expected the ruckus that’s been raised over his passing. Gavin’s humor gave the show balance, as did the wonderful clips of Shronk-jinx past. I sat here, my girlfriend long asleep, listening from 2AM onward to guys who were even closer than I was to the man, licking their wounds with the sounds of laughter. It was therapy for me, more than you can know, and when I teared up as Gavin choked on his final speech, I knew that would be one last good bawling. It was.
The show ended with all of those wonderful reflections (powerful stuff and endearing all of you to me), I closed the window for a minute. I went to my room to check on the girlfriend (she’s sick) and then came back out, sat down and started writing. From 4-5:45 AM, I hacked out the remainder of my 3600 words for Parvis, gave it a read over and was allowed to exhale. I got ready for bed, snuck under the sheets, gave the girl a kiss, lay there for five minutes and got back out and wrote this. Two hours and 35 minutes, I’ve written the first 2000+ words I’ve written this week. I’m pretty certain I have the
PR guys to thank for that and maybe more. Maybe if I can find the enthusiasm to finish that 3,600 word piece, then leap out of bed at 6AM to write this, maybe there’s not so much to be cynical about, or better yet, talking a page from Shronk’s book, there may be more that’s worth being enthusiastic about. Regardless, I owe these guys a debt of gratitude.
I’m going to miss Shronk. If I can get one, I’m going to get an oversized Got Shronk? Hoodie and wear it every day of WSOP just to keep a little piece of me with him at all times. It won’t be the same in the press room and I won’t have that same guy to trade West Wing lines with and to talk poker writing with and who I could count on to have me rolling on the floor in a matter of minutes. I’m grateful though for this; he reminded me of what that enthusiasm means. For so many, it means looking forward to more of the same. To me it was more chances for good times and debauchery, Most of all though, it’s a reminder that even with his passing, not all is dark and cynical as long a we’re fighting for things to be light and for there to be reason for enthusiasm.
Thank you Shronk for all you did for this community, paid slivers of what you should have been and thank you for being a friend to so many of us and as a result, the bind that kept us together. Maybe now we won’t need that bind as an excuse. Love ya’ bud,
Gary
One Last Shronk Tribute
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