For me, chips live in this intersection of art, history, economy, and gaming. It’s the only physical representation of all those elements I can think of, besides maybe playing cards, themselves.
My passion for this hobby is fueled by both the history they represent (which is why I’m trying to collect at least one chip from every Colorado casino), and by the artistic expression they allow me to apply to my own home games.
Colorado has a history of being the “gateway to the West” or “where the West begins.” Either way, we were born of problematic pioneers, hard-hearted outlaws, cowboys, natives, gangsters, prospectors, and the families they made along the way. Some of them were winners, most of them were losers, but all of them were gamblers.
That’s why, to me, each casino that has come and gone represents a little piece of Colorado’s history, and Colorado’s adventuresome spirit.
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I’ve always loved games. Video games, board games, card games, you name it. So poker was an opportunity to monetize my passion for gaming at a young age, since money is how you keep score. I learned how to play 5 card draw as a preteen, and my friends and I would bet candy, pennies, even comic books in our wacky, childish poker games.
I’m my late teenage years, I started playing mixed games with my uncle and his friends. Because of that, poker holds a specific nostalgia with me. As a teenager, it was a venue for me to learn what it meant to be a “man.” To banter with other men in a safe space, under the backdrop of a friendly game, was invaluable to my early development.
It taught me how to take calculated risks, how live within a framework of “rules,” while at the same time learning when and how to bend and break them in intentional ways. It taught me that sometimes, you can do everything exactly right, and still not win. And sometimes, you can screw up and still get rewarded. It taught me how to win and lose with dignity.
I recently heard Johnathan Little describe poker as one, lifelong game where we all get dealt basically the same cards. In that sense, each game I play is like a chapter in the larger story. Each session has its own themes, each hand is its own paragraph, every action is its own sentence, and everything from the room I play in, the cards I’m dealt, the table I sit at, and the chips in my stack, all contribute to the larger narrative.
Between my Colorado chip project, Super Poker World tournament set, and my two custom sets (cash and tourney), I only have around 2200 chips. A paltry sum in this forum. But each one is an extension of me, my history, my values, and what I hope to carry forward in the narrative of my life.
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Now, the prOn:
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