Andy B
02-16-2003, 12:46 AM
Dennis Carlson collapsed while at work last month and died. He was 35. I haven't been to Canterbury Card Club much lately, so I only learned of this very recently. A quick search reveals that he cashed in stud/8 events at both the New England Poker Classic and World Poker Finals last year, so I figure that he was known to players outside of Minnesota.
Dennis was a very large man, weighing close to 500 pounds. This past fall, he got what I thought were some very nice poker-related tattoos on his forearms. He had a pierced tongue and painted his toenails. You'd know him if you saw him.
Dennis mostly played high-only stud. He played as high as he could, which unfortunately usually means $3/6 in these parts. One night, we managed to get a $6/12 game going. Dennis told a lot of stories about his work as a bouncer during that game. He confirmed my belief that, while he was a heck of a nice guy, he wasn't anyone you'd want to mess with. One time, someone pulled a gun on him. Dennis said, "it'll just bounce off." He quit that job the next day, by the way.
Like a lot of stud players around here, Dennis played the other games, not wanting to be stuck playing $3/6. One night, I was in a $6/12 hold'em game with Dennis. He had been in the game for a short time and raised in early position. He got about six callers. He asked, "do Aces always get this much action in this game?" He eventually won the pot without a showdown, and sure enough, he showed two Aces.
Later in that same hold'em game, I caught a glimpse of The Best Damned Sports Show on TV, Period, or whatever it's called, hosted by Tom Arnold. At least I think that's what it is. It's a show I've seen many times but have never actually heard, because the TVs at Canterbury Card Club don't have the sound up. Anyway, on this show, they have a black guy in nerd glasses who conducts mock interviews. On this night, he was interviewing a baseball. I don't know if it was autographed by somebody or what, but he was interviewing a baseball. I wondered aloud, "how much dope do you have to smoke before you'll watch a guy interview a baseball?"
Dennis responded, "I don't know, but I'd be willing to find out!"
Dennis frequently announced his hand, as in the hold'em game. As far as I can remember, though, unlike most players, he always told the truth. In another $6/12 stud game, he raised first in from late position with a King showing. Two other Kings were out. He got it heads-up with an extremely annoying woman who also plays poorly. Dennis announced, "I'm representing a pair of Kings." Dennis' next card was a Deuce. He bet out, announcing, "I'm representing Kings and Deuces." His next card was a blank. The woman caught an Ace and checked. This time as Dennis bet, he turned up K2 in the hole. The woman conceded. Dennis did stuff like this all the time. Never when I was in the hand, though....
Dennis was a good guy, a lot of fun to play with, and I miss him. I played $3/6 stud with him briefly on New Year's Day. I had no idea that he'd be dead six days later. I just turned 35 myself, and this is the first time that I've lost a friend who was my age like this. Most of the people I've ever known that have died have been, well, old. I don't weigh 500 pounds, but it still scares me.
Dennis was a very large man, weighing close to 500 pounds. This past fall, he got what I thought were some very nice poker-related tattoos on his forearms. He had a pierced tongue and painted his toenails. You'd know him if you saw him.
Dennis mostly played high-only stud. He played as high as he could, which unfortunately usually means $3/6 in these parts. One night, we managed to get a $6/12 game going. Dennis told a lot of stories about his work as a bouncer during that game. He confirmed my belief that, while he was a heck of a nice guy, he wasn't anyone you'd want to mess with. One time, someone pulled a gun on him. Dennis said, "it'll just bounce off." He quit that job the next day, by the way.
Like a lot of stud players around here, Dennis played the other games, not wanting to be stuck playing $3/6. One night, I was in a $6/12 hold'em game with Dennis. He had been in the game for a short time and raised in early position. He got about six callers. He asked, "do Aces always get this much action in this game?" He eventually won the pot without a showdown, and sure enough, he showed two Aces.
Later in that same hold'em game, I caught a glimpse of The Best Damned Sports Show on TV, Period, or whatever it's called, hosted by Tom Arnold. At least I think that's what it is. It's a show I've seen many times but have never actually heard, because the TVs at Canterbury Card Club don't have the sound up. Anyway, on this show, they have a black guy in nerd glasses who conducts mock interviews. On this night, he was interviewing a baseball. I don't know if it was autographed by somebody or what, but he was interviewing a baseball. I wondered aloud, "how much dope do you have to smoke before you'll watch a guy interview a baseball?"
Dennis responded, "I don't know, but I'd be willing to find out!"
Dennis frequently announced his hand, as in the hold'em game. As far as I can remember, though, unlike most players, he always told the truth. In another $6/12 stud game, he raised first in from late position with a King showing. Two other Kings were out. He got it heads-up with an extremely annoying woman who also plays poorly. Dennis announced, "I'm representing a pair of Kings." Dennis' next card was a Deuce. He bet out, announcing, "I'm representing Kings and Deuces." His next card was a blank. The woman caught an Ace and checked. This time as Dennis bet, he turned up K2 in the hole. The woman conceded. Dennis did stuff like this all the time. Never when I was in the hand, though....
Dennis was a good guy, a lot of fun to play with, and I miss him. I played $3/6 stud with him briefly on New Year's Day. I had no idea that he'd be dead six days later. I just turned 35 myself, and this is the first time that I've lost a friend who was my age like this. Most of the people I've ever known that have died have been, well, old. I don't weigh 500 pounds, but it still scares me.