Phil Helmuth is one of the most successful poker players in the world, winning eleven World Series of Poker bracelets, including the main event twice. He’s also a grade-A, mind-bogglingly world-class jerk. His self-embraced nickname is “The Poker Brat,” and the only problem with this is how badly it understates the case. He berates opponents if he beats them, but he berates them twice as much if they beat him. In his mind, everything he does is perfect, and nothing anyone else ever does is worthy of his presence at the table.
I’d like to say I pity him, but the truth is closer to despising him, and I wish I never had to watch him ever again. My greatest hope in the world for him is that he would somehow learn to act like a decent human being. In wistful moments, I even imagine how I might effectively confront him if I were at the table. Though I might be inclined to needle him, I hope I could somehow penetrate his idiocy and get him to behave up to the standards we expect from kindergarteners.
And that’s the problem.
In a tournament filled with thousands of players, the vast majority of whom are clearly sinners lost without a faith in Jesus Christ, my biggest annoyance is Phil Helmuth…actually acting like a sinner. Apparently I have failed to grasp the Gospel, since my great hope isn’t that Phil would encounter Christ, but that he would learn to behave, more effectively hiding his sinfulness by pretending to be good…just like everybody else. It’s just so easy to care about decency rather than faith.
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