The first meeting
The first time I met June was at the Irish Open a few years ago. I’d just walked into the Royal Dublin Society when she stopped me and asked with a sarcastic glint in her eye: “Are you the famous poker player Dara O’Kearney?”
her most fervent desire at that moment was, not just to eliminate, but to annihilate me
The first time we played together, she vocally announced to the table that her most fervent desire at that moment was, not just to eliminate, but to annihilate me.
Both of these are good strategies to attract my attention and pique my interest. We hung out in Las Vegas where I got to see a gentler side of this self confessed raging granny at the tables. She gave me sage advice on everything from where to stay, where to eat, and how to do laundry. I don’t know anyone her age in as good a shape physically and mentally (on short dinner breaks where I had to sprint walk she could more than keep up with my pace).
It took her a little while to understand that we Irish express affection through what seems on the surface like verbal abuse and insult, something Canadians in particular can find culturally jarring. We are polite to those we dislike, or at least don’t want to engage with.
At the table
June is a formidable opponent at the table: unorthodox, locked in, laser-focused, with a style that mixes limps, small bets and lots of power jams. She plays all the games, and gives no quarter at the table. She reads and dissects her opponents with a psychological precision, and approaches battles at the felt with a rare intensity.
She recently took down the 300 side event in Killarney, securing the trophy from open play after a chop for the money had been agreed. Like any sensible person, she doesn’t seem to place much stock on trophies won in the flipping contests we call poker tournaments, and she gave me the trophy for safe keeping rather then lugging it with her to Portugal on the marathon walk she headed to after Killarney.
bemused and discombobulated by the feistiness of this little old lady from Canada
She returned for the International Poker Open (IPO), and continued her rich vein of form, making three final tables, and taking down the Leslie McLean high roller (which she satellited into: she’s a true grinder who exercises better bankroll management than most pros I know). During Day 1 of that event, I started getting messages from players at her table bemused and discombobulated by the feistiness of this little old lady from Canada they knew was my friend.
Double standards
In Vegas this summer, I was lucky enough to rail a conversation between three of the smartest ladies in poker, Caitlyn Arnwine, Jennifer Shahade, and Alex O’Brien. A conversation on a recent controversy went into a tangent about how female players are expected to behave at the table, which Alex concluded with:
“Can we stop holding women to higher standards? Why should we be expected to behave better or differently from men?”
This is a viewpoint I strongly agree with. June is not the only female friend I’ve gotten these kinds of messages about. Back when Paulina “Pokerbunny” Loeliger was at her most polarising, I got them constantly from discombobulated males who seemed to expect me to “have a word” based on my role as friend, mentor, backer, supporter, or whatever they imagined our relationship to be. I have little patience or tolerance for such messages. If your expectations for how women should behave at the table are different from how you expect men to, you’re guilty of sexism either consciously or unconsciously depending on whether you’re aware of it. If you further think the way to deal with perceived breaches is to appeal to a male to call the female player to heel, you’re about as sexist as it gets.
There is absolutely no onus on female players to be any more pleasant or less combative than male players
All the female players I know have tons of horrendous stories of men behaving badly at the table in poker, from mild sexism all the way up to rape threats. In this deeply male-dominated often misogynistic environment, the women who do thrive and survive have to develop either a very thick skin or the ability to give as good as they get. To have men then turn around and complain that they’re not behaving in a “ladylike” manner… well, all I can say is, you can’t have it both ways lads. There is absolutely no onus on female players to be any more pleasant or less combative than male players. I have many male friends who are just as abrasive if not more so at the table, yet oddly enough I rarely if ever get messages telling me I need to have a word with my friend David Lappin or Ray Wheatley.
Three handed in the Leslie McLean high roller, when chop negotiations broke out, and were rejected by one of the three remaining players, June smiled and asked him: “Are you sure you don’t want to chop before I eat you up?”
He was sure, and she did.
