I Wanted to be Henry

From about 1975 through 1993, I played a lot of backgammon at the Cavendish West Club in the West Hollywood part of Los Angeles. I probably played 60 hours per week in the 70s, went broke, and starting in 1980, had a full-time job — which cut down on my backgammon hours.

In about 1984, I started to teach myself how to count cards in blackjack and would fly to Las Vegas periodically to play that game. I learned about special deals at casinos where if I played so many hours at $5 or higher blackjack, I’d get some food vouchers and a certain amount in bonus chips. Trust me. Blackjack is easier if you get bonuses to play.

At the Cavendish West, good players from Las Vegas and other cities would occasionally come by to play. This is where I first met Richard Munchkin. I also saw a man named “Henry,” who would play the Cavendish’s best players for $100 a point (a sizeable stake) and usually beat them. 

At some point, Henry became Richard Munchkin’s roommate, and I learned that Henry was a highly-rated chess player and an excellent card counter, in addition to being quite good at backgammon.

I played some chess when I was younger, was getting better at blackjack, and was trying very hard to become good at backgammon. He was miles ahead of me at all three games. 

I figured if I became as good as Henry, my gambling future would be secure. I tried to figure out just how he did that.

I concluded Henry was ahead of me in some combination of three different areas. First was raw brain power. The last IQ test I took was more than 50 years ago while in graduate school, and I was rated well into the top 1% in IQ. With a US population of 215 million in the mid-70s, if 1% of the population was smarter than I was, that’s more than two 2 million people. It’s no wonder that I would run into some of them at a place where intelligence was rewarded. (Today, I believe I’m still in the top 10% IQ-wise, but I’m not sure. As I age, brainpower, among other things, is diminishing.)

The second area where Henry might have been superior to me was in the amount that he studied — or the amount he effectively studied. I studied a lot — but perhaps he studied more or did it in ways that I didn’t. Just having Richard Munchkin as a roommate, if he and Henry discussed various aspects of the games, that was more than what I had. Computer programs, primitive though they were, started to become available in the 1980s. I didn’t get them. Perhaps Henry did.

The third area where Henry might have surpassed me is in aptitude for games. It’s not your raw IQ that counts — it’s the type of IQ. Top chefs, architects, and interior decorators, among many others, probably have high IQs, but that doesn’t mean they have an aptitude for games. Some people are much better strategic thinkers than others. Some people can grasp the overall concepts of a game almost instantly, whereas in the games I mentioned, I needed to learn from what other people had figured out and written.

Whatever the combination of brains, study habits, and aptitude — he had more of what I wanted than I did. So, I wanted to be him.

Obviously, I never became him. After I moved to Las Vegas, I got to know Henry and we became friendly. By the time this happened, I had become successful at video poker and would see him playing that game in some of the casinos I frequented.

I once told him I had wanted to be him in the mid-80s, and he was amazed. He didn’t figure his skill at games was worth all that much. It hadn’t helped him much in the real world. I remember thinking that casinos were the real world.

Today, I have no desire to trade lives with Henry — and I suspect he has no desire to trade lives with me. We each made our way through life the best we could and have generally been successful at this. Although there are some overlapping interests, we really are quite a bit different from each other.