I arrive in Dublin, Ireland from Lugano, Switzerland on a cold Sunday afternoon. I’m here to speak at EDGE, Europe’s Gaming Expo (with a heavy focus on poker), host a meet up cash game, and compete in the Irish Poker Fest, a €3,000 buy in poker tournament. It’s sure to be a wild week.
Check out the vlog from Dublin for the full poker action!
Ambra and I catch an Uber to the Intercontinental Hotel, home to the tournament. The lobby is decked out for Halloween, lined with witches, pumpkins and spiders’ nests. Originally a Celtic festival called Samhain (pronounced “sow-in”) and thought to be a boundary between the living and dead where spirits roamed freely, Halloween dates back 2,000 years. Costumes and bonfires were used to ward off these evil spirits.
We have a day off before the craziness begins so we call it an early night and hit the town the following morning. It’s been 15 years since I’ve been here, and it’s Ambra’s first time. I’m excited to discover it with her.
Dublin is cold and damp, but the streets are vibrant. We stop in quaint shops, drift the cobblestone streets, nibble and caffeinate our way around town, and pick up souvenirs for friends and family. My favorite store is Hodges Figgis, a beautifully designed two story bookstore nestled in an old red brick building.
There’s something satisfying about being able to walk freely around a well-structured and safe city without having a destination. This obvious structure to the way humans are meant to live and congregate is one of my favorite parts about Europe and biggest frustrations with America.
We get back to the hotel just in time for poker. Meet up games are always a blast. I enjoy playing with new people, as well as getting to meet Mario Mosboeck and Olga Iermolcheva, who are also ambassadors for the event. I quit early to rehearse my talk one final time.
I feel a healthy blend of excited and nervous. I’m about to speak on The Future of Online Poker in the Age of AI and present a revolutionary new model which I believe aligns the interests of players and operators to create a better, safer and more sustainable future.
Powered by blockchain technology, I believe we’re witnessing an unprecedented financial revolution that’s driving us toward a cooperative economy, where employers, owners, and customers all share the pie. The ultimate vision is to alleviate wealth inequality. It’s a radical idea which will have profound impacts on our world, similar to how the car disrupted the horse.
It could either be a monumental failure or change the world. Watch the full talk below and decide for yourself.
The talk goes well. I take a few questions and link up with others, but I have to cut it short.
I register just in time for the start of Day1A of the Irish Poker Fest. We begin with 50,000 chips but after losing a few key pots, I find myself down with 8,000 on 300/600 blinds.
I stay focused and win several hands in a row, climbing my way back to 20,000 without a showdown. Then the double comes. I open up my game and play more hands, 3-betting when appropriate. I make hands and get paid. As my chip lead grows, I turn up the aggression. Soon I’m in 5th gear, speeding down the highway. I pretty much continue to win in a straight line and finish the day with 270,000 chips, the chip leader. It’s just one of those days.
Despite playing late we’re on an early schedule, and I wake at 6:00 am. I love the mornings, so I don’t mind. Perhaps my favorite part about staying in hotels is using the facilities first thing.
I finish my swim and soak in the jacuzzi. Another man arrives and strikes up a conversation. It turns out he’s been traveling for 20 some years dealing at various poker events.
“Did you get to attend the conference too?” I ask. “I’m curious about your thoughts on how we can move the poker industry forward.”
He shrugged. “You want to know what I think?”
“Please.”
“I’m not so convinced.”
“About what?”
“Poker.”
“What do you mean? You’ve been dealing for 20 years.”
“That’s the thing. I deal. I think poker is all luck.”
“Have you tried playing?”
“Of course I have.”
“And?”
“Well, I won some and lost some.”
“Have you ever thought you could win consistently if you learned more of the strategy?”
“I don’t think it matters. I deal to all these tournament players and see bad beat after bad beat. They get it all in with terrible hands. Complete idiots, yet the suck out! Then they win the whole damn tournament! I’ve seen it more times than I can count.”
It’s not the first time I’ve heard this take. In fact, it’s what I expect most people to think who are unfamiliar with the skill required to win at poker. What shocks me is to hear this level of scrutiny from someone inside the industry.
I press him more, but he doesn’t budge. I try to explain to him that life works the same way as poker, and that our experiences are a mix of luck and skill. Factors like where we are born, the education we receive, and our upbringing are all determined by fate; each of us akin to one of hands he has dealt. Isn’t it the decisions we make and how we choose to play that hand that determines our ultimate destiny?
He’s not having it. It’s time for my meditation – I need it after this talk.
“So, I’ll see you at the Final Table then?” he says.
“Will you believe it’s skill if I make it?”
He laughs. “No, but I hope you do anyway.” We part ways, and I leave more determined than ever to win.
I have two days off, and we opt to explore the outer parts of Dublin. The Sandymount DART railway is just beyond our hotel, and for two euros we make the 25 min trip to Dalkey. It’s a quaint small town which reminds me of the Cotswold’s. Local artisans display hand made goods, and coffee shops sell an assortment of scones, pastries and every type of latte you can imagine. No Irish town would be complete without a pub, and I’m told this one is historic. We don’t drink beer and it’s too early to enter, but I can only imagine how packed it will be in a few hours.
After lunch we swing around to Killiney, a 10 km round trip walk along the coast and up through the hills. We ascend 300 steps and trek through a forest to see the Killiney Obelisk, built in 1742, which sits nestled along a beautiful peak boasting 360 degree views of Dublin and the coast.
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The following day we visit EPIC, the Irish Immigration Museum in downtown Dublin, founded by Irish born Neville Isdell, the former CEO of Coca-Cola. The Irish have a rich history of emmigration, much of which was to the United States. The conditions the people went through in pursuit of a better life is humbling and fills me with gratitude for the fortunate situation to which I was born.
Ambra happens to have a Phd in Migration and Travel Literature, to have published multiple books on this topic, and to have taught it at universities in both Italy and the US. Her main area of study is Italian emigration to the United States in between the late 1800’s and early 1900’s, so I’m blessed to have a private tour guide.
The Irish, along with the Italians, were among the least desirable immigrants by the U.S. standards. The Irish arrived first in the mid 1800’s, thrust abroad due to the Great Famine. Americans viewed them as poor, uneducated and often criminals who competed for their jobs. Over multiple generations this prejudice faded (for many reasons which are beyond the scope of this post) as the Irish integrated into the American way of life.
Italians faced similar challenges. “Dago” was the derogatory name given to Italians who were believed to be inferior and criminals. Both Ireland and Italy are now more prosperous, part of the European Union, and have better international mobility treaties with America.
Walking around the museum, I couldn’t help but realize that had I merely been born 100 years ago in my great grandparents’ shoes, I’d be seen in an entirely different way for factors completely outside of my control. Maybe I’d have been a “Dago” too. Instead, I was born a third generation Italian, distanced enough from the past to be considered “American”, and given all the opportunity one could hope for.
What if I’m only in my privileged position because of the situation I was born into, which has allowed me to progress through life to reach this point? Perhaps my success isn’t due to how well I played my hand but rather the extraordinary hand I was dealt in the first place. It’s not a particularly self-aggrandizing idea to accept, but it’s the truth.
Maybe it’s true about everything. What if skill is really just another form of luck. Life could be deterministic. Free will may not exist. It can be said that skill stems from our intelligence, habits and character traits. One could argue intelligence is given, and traits such as discipline are inherited or a product of our early conditioning, all factors that we have no control over. I came to EPIC in search of answer, but I leave more confused than when I entered.
Day 2 is easy until it’s not. I leverage my chip lead most and set myself up to be in a commanding position heading into the final day. It’s a long grind. We begin at 1:00 pm, but slow hour long levels allow for plenty of play. After an awkward 5:30 pm dinner break, we come back to play six more levels, ending at 2:30 am, only to come back the next day at noon. It’s fine, adrenaline will get me there.
In bed that night, I replay the action in my mind. I played some of my best poker today and relish in that rare feeling of pride. Before drifting to sleep, I think about the dealer.
Maybe he’s got it all wrong, and luck is just another form of skill. After all, I worked consistently for 20 years to be the player I am today. To have the talent to save my tournament life in a spot many would go broke. After all, there is no luck on the river. You either have the best hand or you don’t. Those who continually put their money in with as a favorite will come out on top. It’s just math. Where is the luck in that?
I navigate my way through Day 3 like a soldier running across a battlefield trying to avoid the landmines. We’re down to 12, playing 6 handed across two tables. I open with QT in the cutoff, and the big blind defends. On a ten high flop he shoves all in. I quickly call and am shown the good news. He has T9. Not only do I have him dominated, I have a backdoor flush draw to counterfeit one of his outs. The turn blanks, and I’m one card away from a top 3 stack and eliminating my next victim. The river comes an offsuit nine.
I’m gutted. I step on my first landmine a few hands later, shoving all in with A7s and running into Jacks. Five cards later, I’m out. I got unlucky sure in the prior hand, but I have nobody to blame but myself for the shove.
Was it luck or skill that was responsible for my demise, or perhaps a little bit of both? In the end, I fall short. I’m proud of my 11th place finish and 4th consecutive cash, but deep down I know I could have played better. Like most poker tournaments, it’s a bitter-sweet finish.
It’s my last morning in Dublin, and I’m back in the pool. 40 laps, win or lose. I’ve learned that striving to improve just a little every day can lead to amazing results. Sometimes I have to push myself to go through the motions. Today is one of those days, but I get it done anyway.
Surely that’s a skill, is it not? The ability to reason and put the goals of your future self over your immediate desires, especially in moments of adversity? I’ve meditated every day for nearly a decade to exercise this muscle. I’ve made many conscious trades to be where I am. Is it really unfair to take any credit for that?
Or is my ability to sacrifice is just a second order function of my character, which was formed in an early stage of life where I had no control over its development. And even though I meditated my way to be a better version of myself, perhaps discovering meditation was pure fate. For if each experience comes from and is inextricably linked to the experience before it, dating back to our conception, can we really take credit for anything?
I make my rounds through the facilities: lifting heavy things, meditating for 15 minutes in the sauna, jumping around during cold shower, and wrapping it up with a visualization exercise on the lounge chair. I don’t feel like doing any of it, but I do feel better afterwards.
Did I consciously push myself through with my free will, or is my will power merely innate?
At breakfast, I catch the dealer on his way out of the hotel. His trolly is in one hand, while he sips his coffee in a to-go cup too small to be used in America in the other.
“How’d you end up?” he asks.
“11th.”
“So, did you get unlucky, or did you lack the skill?”
“Both.”
He smiles. “It was nice meeting you.”
“Wait a minute. I thought there was no skill in this game.”
“There isn’t, but that’s what you believe, right?”
I spent the past 20 years trying to convince people, myself included, that poker was a game of skill with an element of luck, just like life itself. That while one can be dealt a variety of hands, it was ultimately the quality of their decisions that determined their fate.
But maybe I have it all wrong. What if the dealer was right? While I still believe there’s skill in the game of poker, what if the skill one develops is purely due to fate, a result of the hand they were dealt and the thousands of things that had to go right for them to develop the skills to win?
Is it possible that life is deterministic, that free will doesn’t exist, and that all our so-called “choices” are simply the inevitable outcome of our circumstances? Maybe every decision we pride ourselves on—every hand we play, every strategic choice—is just one more outcome woven by the invisible hands of fate, a testament to the fact that even skill itself is just a form of luck. And if it’s true that poker is a microcosm of life itself, is it possible that it’s all just a game of fate?
In my 20’s, when I knew far less than I do today, I was certain I had all the answers. Today in my 30’s, I’m not so sure anymore. I hope by the time it’s over I’ll have it all figured out.
But for now, it’s time to catch my flight. I have a bunch of hands to review on the plane. I transfer them from notes to my computer to prepare to run the sims. I need to work harder on my mental game to be more patient and less reactive in high pressure spots. I preload a meditation to do during takeoff.
Regardless of what forces are responsible for success, there is one thing I do know for certain: I was dealt a winning hand, and I’m grateful for it. This awareness has forced me to rethink the world around me.
Acknowledging the role luck plays in life – whatever the cause – has helped me feel more empathy and connection to others in a way that reducing reality to pure meritocracy doesn’t allow.
Recognizing our privilege – or what I like to call the ‘winning hand we were dealt’ – comes with the responsibility to use this awareness as an equalizer, as a habit to look at ‘others’ with the same regard we reserve to our friends, and as a commitment to build environments in which each person feels equally respected and valued.
And in a world, that’s increasingly divided, isn’t anything that brings us closer together more needed than ever?
Alec 
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