During the World Series, I'd arranged to meet Roland De Wolfe in a private room adjacent to the Amazon Room. As I was buzzed in, I was met by the ungodly sight of Roland’s lower crevice as he received a back massage. Also present was Mike Matusow, Sorel Mizzi and Barry Greenstein, all of whom were fully immersed in a spot of Chinese Poker, as seems to be the game of choice among high profile players. Despite playing for what I imagine was stakes larger than my entire bankroll, the atmosphere was relaxed, Matusow keeping score on a scrap piece of paper while Mizzi sat stoically in his baggy vest and flip-flops. This wasn’t a room for mere mortals, rather a safe haven for the “big name” players to escape to when the WSOP circus outside proved too much to handle.
The mere fact that Roland is pigeonholed as a “big name” player and keeps such star-studded company speaks volumes of the distance he has come in poker. Regardless of his tournament success, there’s no doubt that Roland’s shrewd approach to fame and celebrity has aided his ascent considerably. His ability to raise his profile through the media, televised tournaments and creating a likable persona of himself has proved paramount, and whether he was successful at the felt or not, Roland would be the best known UK player both on home turf and Stateside. As such, it was of no surprise that when I requested an interview, he bit my arm off like a crocodile with toothache and duly invited me into his elite surroundings.
Whilst our encounter was intermittingly interrupted by Matusow either grumbling about his luck or answering questions directed at Roland with mocking responses – “The only thing he's doing now is he's catching cards a little better. He's still an idiot.” - , I’d arrived armed with serious questions that I knew would receive honest answers, the first of which involved his reputation as a player. Having won his first bracelet at this year’s World Series, I asked Roland if he considered himself underrated. He was rather modest in his answer: “The guys who play the biggest games in the world like Ivey, Patrick, and co. are the best players in the world because they play the biggest games in the world and they win, that's why they're there.”
Despite Roland’s reply, I hastened to disagree – the stats don’t lie. With over $4.5 million in tournament winnings, he’s second to just the Devilfish in the UK money rankings and in the top 50 worldwide. He’s only the second player to have won EPT, WPT and WSOP titles, made countless final tables and is a winning cash player beyond the tournament felt. By all accounts, he’s a world-beater, and despite being excluded from many people’s list of “greats”, someone who deserves more respect than he currently receives.
So, considering his unbridled success, why does he rarely top these lists? “Maybe because I don't take myself too seriously,” he suggested. “People take me in that context.” I think this assessment is probably accurate. A big personality on the circuit, Roland is always joking around, having a good time and, on the surface, treating the game as a fun pastime rather than a profession – or so people assume. Even when he won his bracelet he joked, “I haven’t played much Pot Limit Omaha High-Low, but I’ve played Limit Omaha High-Low and Pot Limit Omaha, so I just put the two together.” Whilst this accentuates the image already being conveyed, it simply disguises what is, in my opinion, a hugely underrated talent, and one that the record books fail to hide.
Nevertheless, one can’t deny that he was inexperienced when he entered his bracelet-winning event. It’s a trait that doesn’t deter him. But whilst most will assume that he plays less familiar events thanks to his sponsorship deal with Full Tilt, their views are in fact misguided: “I pay my own money for every event,” he revealed. “I thought this event would be a good learning experience for me, and it would be fun. I'm good at learning games as I play them.” Much like Stu Ungar, Roland is a student of the game through experience, being at the felt and seeing the game unfold in the flesh, rather than burying his head in books and relying solely on the written word. He may not be a whiz at the maths of the game and know the facts and figures off by heart, but there’s no doubt that he’s one of the few to possess a natural gift for cards, whatever the game. As Thomas Wahlroos once reluctantly admitted, “He’s not technically great, but he has an incredible feel for the game that others don’t have, and never will.”
A natural or not, Roland wasn’t foolish enough to tackle a foreign format without some assistance. Whilst Matusow claimed, “He’d been watching me on the breaks to teach him how to play,” Roland’s answer was slightly different: “Obviously, talking to people really did help. I spoke to Jeff Duvall a lot, probably the most, and a little bit to other different players. It's not that difficult to get the grasp of the basics, once you know the hand values, it's not that difficult a game. It's not like the Deuce-to-Seven where I really didn't know what I was doing. Jeff was definitely a big help though, and advised me not to overplay the four low card hands preflop.” But who were the dangermen and how do you take on players you know to be superior? “Scott Clements was the best," he praised. “The best thing to do is try and avoid these types of players, but show some aggression if I do get involved in a pot with them. A lot of the players were better than me, so I didn’t want to play small pots with them. I wanted them to be forced into making a decision for a large proportion of their stack.”
Not all strategy advice, however, was technically based: “I always try and have sex before a tournament,” joked Roland. Matusow shared his laughter, worryingly agreeably. “Someone always said I should do this, either with a partner or with myself.” “Who said that?” I inquired curiously. “Hmm, I don’t know,” he replied. “What’s his name? Joe Sebok’s dad.” Greenstein looked on sheepishly, but couldn’t resist a smile. It’s obvious that banter is rife between the pros, and something that veterans like Greenstein have quickly become accustomed to.
Joking apart, Roland’s achievement was a high accolade that completed the Triple Crown, and I wondered how valuable this was to him. “It wasn’t that important,” he said. “I was more focused on the bracelet because I didn’t have one. Going into the final I was thinking, ‘Just keep playing well and getting to those finals and you’ll eventually win one.’ There’s a lot luck involved and thankfully I had a big lead heads-up. I was still nervous though, if only because I was so close and might not get another shot. It might have been different if I was a dog in chips. Money comes and goes, but the bracelet is a big achievement and worth a lot financially in terms of endorsements and sponsorship. If you do well, you get rewarded in other ways than just the prize money.”
Prior to the interview, I asked fellow journalist Rod Stirzaker how best to ask him about his final table garb – a resplendent British tracksuit that would have made the sun look dull - without coming across as offensive. Rod advised me to use the word “eye-catching”, but I needn’t have worried as Roland quickly eased my concerns, “Nothing you say will offend me.” Phew. “I was only the British player in the final,” he continued, “and I knew there were a lot of people back home wanting the Brits to do well. I like it, I think it’s cool, especially over here. It’s very important to maintain my profile and remain at the forefront of the game so I get invited to tournaments. It’s like a fallback.”
Clearly patriotic, I picked his brains with regards to the infamous ‘Kabbaj’ incident in which Harrah’s played the Sex Pistols’ rather less complimentary version of “God Save the Queen” at the awards ceremony, naively without seeking Kabbaj’s blessing to do so. “It was kinda stupid and pretty disrespectful,” commented Roland, ultimately agreeing with the postmortem views of Kabbaj and a handful of other Brits. “It’s not a big deal and I personally would have laughed about it, but they still should have asked him. It was correct to redo it. If they’d played the American national anthem in a similar way, then a lot of people would have been upset. I remember going to the Ricky Hatton fight and I booed the American anthem along with all the other English people, but then afterwards I thought about it and decided that it wasn't really the right thing to do and was actually pretty offensive. National anthems are something that should be respected in sports. I don't think they set out to deliberately offend anyone though.”
Whilst Matusow continued to grumble to himself – “Sixes, flush and a flush - best hand I've had all day” -, Roland had already separated himself from both the game and massage, and was giving me his undivided attention. I asked him why he thought the Brits were doing so well this year. “Variance,” was his one word answer. “What about the pros in general?” I continued. “Mike thinks it's because they have dealers who are clump shuffling,” he chuckled. For the first time Sorel broke his stoicism to giggle at Mautsow and his far-fetched theories – something told me that the level of mockery Matusow receives on TV isn’t purely for the cameras. “He reckons the reason there have been repeat bracelet winners is because the dealers don't shuffle properly and the cards get stuck together, so the same people get the good cards every time.” Matusow grimaced and silently absorbed the laughter like a sponge before responding, “Well, do you not think they should have shuffle machines at every tables?”
Bringing back the interview kicking and screaming, I asked Roland if there was anything he’d like to see changed at the World Series. Like others before him, he answered abruptly before I’d reached the end of my question, clearly passionate about his response: “Yeah, they take out so much money. It's amazingly much better run than a few years ago and I think they've done a good job, but they take out too much money and poker simply can't survive them taking out second, third or whatever it is prize. I'd also like to see the mixed game being less biased towards the Limit games in terms of having eight games where six are Limit. I 'd like to see four Limit games, and four No Limit or Pot Limit games.”
I’d spoken to Roland about mixed games a year prior, and his views, and goals, had apparently remained unchanged: “It's important in becoming a more rounded player,” he mused. “When I started I was playing No Limit Hold’em, then Pot Limit Omaha, but I think it's important to know a range of games because you never know when a Moneymaker situation is going to come. There are a lot of opportunities to get bracelets in the smaller field events. Even if they're tough, it's easier to go up against 100 players rather than trying to beat 6,000, like Steve Sung did. I just want to keep improving in all formats. For a British player, I think I'm pretty well rounded in all the games.”
On that note, my interrogation had come to an end, and I decided to let Roland return to the game of Chinese Poker that he’d been enjoying prior to my arrival. As with all my encounters with Roland, I’d entered in search of the secret to his success, and come out none the wiser. I’d learned that he’s nowhere near as lucky as he, and many others, might protest, and that beyond the guise of the fun guy image he portrays, lies a sharp poker mind, and one that although might not be the most technically gifted, is swamped in natural talent. As he’s proved in Vegas, inexperience is merely a hurdle to be jumped rather than an obstacle to halt before - he relishes a challenge, and often he’ll overcome it.
People might bang on about the Hellmuths and durrrrs of this world, but when it comes to live tournaments and performing on the big stage, Roland is up there with the best of them: “I don't think there are many people who would want to come up against me in England. When I'm on my game, I'm good, and I have a way of getting through these tournaments and getting towards the business end in a way that people in the UK can't seem to do.” I don’t know how he does it, but he just has a knack for poker, and one that I envy with the jealousy of the greenest-eyed of monsters. But despite his talents, and whether or not he is indeed underrated, he’ll always have fun with poker. He’d have it no other way. If poker weren’t fun, then Roland’s love of the game would cease to exist. Poker with a smile, that seems to be his philosophy, and one that few combine with a winning record. “What are your plans for the rest of the Series?” I asked on departure. “I just want to match what Joe Sebok does in tournaments because he's been so well taught in tournaments by Barry.” “Why does he rip on your son for?” inquired Matusow. Roland smiled contently to himself.