They all seemed impressed with my description of my poker pal's character and intellectual vitality. One of them even suggested (you know who you are) I write my next book and fill it with descriptions of this gentleman and others perhaps like him...suggested title; "Profiles in Poker."
Well, I have been thinking about another book but don't think I have enough gumption to find and fill it with descriptions as interesting as the one I have written. Nonetheless, here is an edited version of the first, and probably last one I have written:
December 3, 2015 - This morning I stopped at a donut shop on the way in to the Capital Casino poker tournament. It was my second time, having been sent originally by someone who rightfully claimed they make the best in Sacramento. I bought two glazed and a small coffee to work on while I waited for the lady to box a couple of dozen to take with me.
It was just the lady working the counter and me inside. The shop is located near Interstate 80 on Watt Avenue here. This can be a pretty nasty location as not so many years ago some robbers executed a guy and girl working at a pizza joint in the same strip mall. As I sat there I thought, “Damn, what if someone just walked in here and started spraying the place with bullets just because of a bad donut or maybe a “too hot” cup of coffee? I mean hey…look what happened in San Bernardino just yesterday right? Plus there have been more mass shootings in the US than days in the year so far.
Then I thought, “Good location for it but bad bang for the buck as with just two of us there wouldn’t be much “spraying” necessary. Nah, they would probably go for a bigger location with a lot more potential victims so then I relaxed and turned to better thoughts.
I was buying the donuts for one of my poker pals, "Ritz" to celebrate the occasion of his birthday today. He is 95 and still sharp enough to play competitive poker and play it well. He is big man, with a large frame and stands tall at around six feet even at his age. His son, who is about my age, accompanies him 3-4 times a week to play the tournaments. This gentleman is a fine character who immigrated from Italy when he was little. He was orphaned and lived alone, surviving in a Sacramento basement for more than a year before he was a teenager. Later, he married (lasted almost 70 years before she passed) and served a “duration of the war” hitch in the Navy. To make extra dough to send home, he ironed clothes for his shipmates.
 |
| L-R Ritz Naygrow and Alphonso Ford (Alphonso is a former silicon valley exec who played football at UCLA, but that's another story...) |
With the money he saved, he later bought a water bottling firm, and went to work. He was successful and as time passed he bought other water companies that eventually included several states. His forte’ was integrating the new companies and making them profitable. In 1979, a company in France paid Ritz over $60 million for his companies.
I know this because I have a copy of Ritz’s biography right here on my desk.
Ritz is 95 today and here is why I think so highly of him. He is every bit the consummate gentleman our pal and former Air Force Colonel Bill Grinstaff (RIP) was. An example…we were on a tournament break a couple of years ago and I noticed a bathroom habit of Ritz'…yup, a bathroom. I was waiting behind him for a sink and saw him turn after washing his hands to pull a paper towel from the dispenser. There are two dispensers side-by-side and he took one towel, dried his hands then advanced both machines so there would be towels handy for the next person. I have since copied that move and once told his son Tom that I call it the "Ritz Naygrow Memorial Towel Move.” Yes there could be a better title and there are likely many more and better examples but you get my drift I think. This was before I read his bio so I already had a hunch about the man I would find in his book.
A few weeks ago on impulse I gave Ritz a copy of “Badass” in return for the copy of his biography he had graciously sent. He later told me my book was full of “Goddamn vivid descriptions” and it should be in “Every Harley shop in the United States.” (I didn’t tell him that most Harley riders can’t read and those few who can won’t....just kidding.) This proves Ritz is an expert bullshitter too, just like all of us.
I got the donuts safely to the Casino without eating more and the pit boss helped me set them up for crew and players who were so inclined. I used a big Sharpie and wrote on the boxes; ‘Happy Birthday Ritz!" We gave him the pick of the first one and I got a big hug from a good friend. I am a happy camper.
(I recall old friend Paul Murrell telling me he spent some time working in a donut shop in his youth. I think it was his father’s. Years later, Paul and I equipped a contract proposal War Room in Baton Rouge with 2 dozen Crispy Kreme donuts a day to help team members wrestle with their writing anxiety. So here we have yet another good donut story or two eh Paul?!)
