Former dealer hopes luck falls his way this time at WSOP

Did you hear the one about a poker player who paid $58,000 for a collection of toys, who traded a $48,000 motor home for comic books and a van painted with Marvel characters, who bought 60 acres of land on the California-Nevada border in hopes of building a casino, who through that transaction inherited a brothel and made a deal with its owner: She could stay on the property for five years or until she died ... whichever came first.

This is what makes the World Series of Poker so inviting each year, players such as Paul Conelly and those journeys that bring them to the Rio, regular people with fascinating backgrounds who dream of reaching a final table and watching a river card turn in their favor to earn them massive amounts of cash.

Chris Moneymaker once said the beautiful thing about poker is that everyone thinks they can play. Conelly would agree with the former Main Event champion, and the 77-year-old takes it a step further.

“I have always said this game is 85 percent luck and 15 percent skill,” he said. “At some point, it changed from old-time playing to crap-house luck. If it was pure skill, you would have the same winners every year.

“I told that to (1989 Main Event winner) Phil Hellmuth’s face. He’s always telling people he’s the best player in the world. I told him he’s no better than me. I just got out-luckied more than him. He catches a pair of queens and they hold up. I catch a pair of queens and some silly-ass guy outruns me with a flush or straight or two pair of 8s and 10s. What skill does it take to play an 8-10 and flop a 9-jack-queen?

“It’s mostly luck. If the fickle old lady ain’t sitting on your shoulder, you got nothing.”

It is an opinion Conelly nurtured while dealing for 15 years in Las Vegas, first at the Golden Nugget for Bill Boyd and later the Aladdin. He also worked the floor at Sam’s Town when it first opened a card room and finished third in the kickoff tournament of the 1993 World Series at Binion’s, where he made $50,500.

That’s when he bought the motor home.

He wouldn’t have finished as high had he not, on a big blind, been dealt 4-5 suited and watched 5-5-4 come on the flop, eventually torturing those fellows at the table who kept raising with pocket kings and pocket aces. He wouldn’t have finished as high had that 10 not come on the river to give him quads to squash the guy with trip aces.

He says such hands — ones he either wouldn’t normally play or might not have deserved to win — proves true his notion that poker is mostly about good fortune, that once the cards are shuffled, the game is already there and just needs to show itself.

But there is an intimidation factor.

There is nothing like someone else owning the largest stack to make you think and do foolish things.

Conelly dealt for the greats, for the Doyle Brunsons and Puggy Pearsons, for casino owners such as Bob Stupak and actors such as Gabe Kaplan. He was there the night a bunch of them hurried to get a game together when they heard Kaplan, who was always a flop short of horrendous back in the day, was coming to town.

“Kaplan said a few years ago that he had read Doyle’s book and it only cost him $14 million,” Conelly said. “I believe it. He was starring in ‘Welcome Back, Kotter’ in those days and had some money. They would absolutely kill him every time. They took that poor guy for everything.”

Conelly and his wife, Linda, now live in Arizona and have upgraded the motor home. He really did trade the first one for 300,000 comic books and then opened a store in Washington state. That’s where the van painted with Marvel characters sits today, on the side of the road near a farmer’s house.

He really did purchase that land out on Highway 6, still owns it, in fact, on which Janie’s Ranch once sat. Janie didn’t die within five years of the sale, so her deadline arrived and she moved to Reno. The building that housed her brothel stayed but eventually was demolished.

The casino never was built, but he really did spend close to $60,000 on 360 toys to collect and swap and sell.

Conelly arrived in Las Vegas this week willing to risk a bankroll of $15,000, and figured between the $565 entry Colossus event he began playing Friday and a few senior and satellite tournaments, he just might have enough success to buy into the Main Event.

It might even take a little skill, which he displayed on a certain hand Friday, checking his way through three players until a pair of aces held up.

“If I had raised them, they would have folded,” he said. “There’s that 15 percent.

“My wife and I have told the kids and grandkids that we’re just out here spending their inheritance. The one thing she has told me is that I have always taken her on an ‘E Ride.’

“I think I’m going to do well. I’ve already sat down with Lady Luck and talked it over. I’d give anything to make the final table of the Main Event. I’d love to prove to Hellmuth he isn’t the best player in the world. I’d be tickled to sit him down and send him home.”

Is there anyone else he’d like to see at that final table?

“Sure,” Conelly said. “Gabe Kaplan.”

The actor actually improved greatly over the years, winning some world tour events and making the final table in several others. Paul Conelly might suggest Kaplan had some help.

The kind only a fickle old lady sitting on one’s shoulder can provide.

Las Vegas Review-Journal sports columnist Ed Graney can be reached at egraney@reviewjournal.com or 702-383-4618. He can be a heard on “Seat and Ed” on KRLV 1340 from 2 p.m. to 4 p.m. Monday through Friday. Follow him on Twitter: @edgraney.