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kcg5 Inner circle who wants four fried chickens and a coke 1868 Posts |
I saw something on his site:
http://richardturner52.com/re-deal/ Looks very interesting. I am constantly amazed at what this man produces. Has anyone read it? Heard anything about it? Regards,, Kevin
Nobody expects the spanish inquisition!!!!!
"History will be kind to me, as I intend to write it"- Sir Winston Churchill |
pepka Inner circle Uh, I'm the one on the right. 5041 Posts |
I just received an order of his cards and he threw one in. Haven't had time to open it yet.
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kcg5 Inner circle who wants four fried chickens and a coke 1868 Posts |
Nice Pep! I didn't know the book came with the cards. The cards are AWESOME. Bees (only in red I believe), both colors of bikes--so smooooth.
Nobody expects the spanish inquisition!!!!!
"History will be kind to me, as I intend to write it"- Sir Winston Churchill |
MickeyPainless Inner circle California 6065 Posts |
One of his "Specials" includes several DVD's, a doz. gold seal decks and this book for $145.00! I've been meaning to get the DVD's anyway so I reckon the book just sweetens the pot enough to finally make the buy!
MMc |
kcg5 Inner circle who wants four fried chickens and a coke 1868 Posts |
Go for it mick, I have "the cheat" and "science of shuffling..." Both are excellent. And, again, those decks are awesome- no break in, perfect faro out of the box.
Nobody expects the spanish inquisition!!!!!
"History will be kind to me, as I intend to write it"- Sir Winston Churchill |
MickeyPainless Inner circle California 6065 Posts |
Kevin,
I've never heard a derogatory remark about Richard's work and everyone seems to feel the same about the Gold Seal cards! May wait till the latter part of June since I'll be sending off my registration fee for GGG and gotta book a room as well! Lemme know when ya get the book and what ya think of it! MMc |
kcg5 Inner circle who wants four fried chickens and a coke 1868 Posts |
Mick, I might be at GGG. I may have to go to Ohio on family business, but otherwise I hope to see you there!
Nobody expects the spanish inquisition!!!!!
"History will be kind to me, as I intend to write it"- Sir Winston Churchill |
Bret Maverick Regular user U.S.A. 185 Posts |
Okay, gang, here's the scoop on Re-Deal, which I've only cracked open and read up to Chapter Four, but will read in its entirety next week when I have a few days off.
In the late 1980's, Richard Turner was asked by some TV producers if he would mind being the subject of a TV movie about his crazy, yet incredibly inspirational life. Thinking at the time that he was too young, and had so much more to accomplish in life, he politely declined. Shortly thereafter, he was asked to write his autobiography but, alas, he was not interested in doing that, either. Fatefully, technology would later change his mind, and inspire him to do something that he’d never believed possible as a blind card mechanic. In 1998, Richard bought a “talking computer” and, for the first time in his life, he learned to “read” and write. You see, as a youngster whose eyesight had deteriorated to near blindness, his great pride, rebellious spirit and a desire not to tip people to his visual impairment prevented him from learning Braille at the school for the blind. So, armed with his newfound ability to tell his life story with the aid of a talking computer, Richard, never one to walk the line, decided that he would weave his life experiences within a novel, rather than write a traditional autobiography. Richard also decided that, if he was to write this autobiographically-inspired novel, he must achieve two primary objectives. His first goal was to learn to write well enough to compose a book that he could be proud to bear his name. Secondly, although directly interconnected to his first objective, was to leave an inspirational inheritance, a spiritual legacy if you will, to his two year old son at the time, Asa Spades Turner, the apple of his eye then, and now, and the impetus for his sharing the secrets of his card mastery with a growing legion of fans. After decades of performing several shows per day nonstop, at a time when most men would have been content to relax in retirement, Richard continues to expand his legacy by creating new videos; designing his own playing cards; co-starring in the theatrical production of the show Hoodwinked; and traveling the globe performing as The Cheat and teaching magicians at his informative lectures. Richard Turner, whose fascination with the 1950’s television series “Maverick” sparked his journey into the world of playing card manipulation, developed a lifelong love of stories of the old west’s gamblers and card cheats; the art of full contact Karate; and books with a time-travel theme. One book, in particular, drew Richard’s attention: “Sucker's Progress: An Informal History of Gambling in America” (written in 1938 by Herbert Asbury, who also penned "The Gangs of New York - An Informal History of the Underworld"). Asbury’s historical guide provided a wonderful glimpse of gambling in the United States, describing both the legal and illegal pre-World War I era gambling houses that were scattered across America. One particular story in Sucker's Progress, however, really captured Richard's imagination. As Richard explained it, the card showdown of 1889 took place in Bowen’s Saloon, Santa Fe, New Mexico and, according to Sucker's Progress, the biggest raise ever risked in a poker game took place in that game. The challenge pitted gambler John Dougherty against Ike Jackson, a rich Texas cattle rancher. Both men agreed to play a no limit poker game, on the square, for the poker Championship of the West. More than one hundred prominent citizens crammed into Bowen’s Saloon, including L. Bradford Prince, the Governor of New Mexico. Soon after the game began, Dougherty and Jackson each drew hands that they were proud of and, within a matter of minutes, there was over a hundred thousand dollars in coin and currency piled on the table, an absolutely astonishing pot for the time. Jackson was out of cash, so he wrote out a deed for his ranch and ten thousand head of cattle, raising Dougherty one hundred thousand dollars! Dougherty, not surprisingly, lacked the cash to call or raise, and he asked for paper and pen. He wrote for a moment, handed the paper to Governor Prince and, simultaneously, drew his revolver, pointed it point blank at L. Bradford Prince and said, “Governor, sign this or I will kill you. I like you, and will fight for you, but I love my reputation as a poker player better than I do you, or anyone else.” Governor Prince hastily signed the paper, without even reading what Dougherty had written on it. With a sigh of triumph, Dougherty slung the paper into the pot and said, “I raise you the entire territory of New Mexico. There is the deed signed by the Governor!” “I quit,” Jackson gasped as he threw down his hand, “just be *** glad that the Governor of Texas isn’t here.” For many years Richard fantasized about what might have happened had the Texas Governor been present when Jackson actually won what would later become the State of New Mexico. Over the next eleven years, Richard Turner wove one heck of a tapestry, combining his love of the old west’s card cheats like Hickok, Holliday, Devol and the mysterious Erdnase, with a large smattering of his wild and often painful personal experiences interspersed to form the sci-fi thriller “Re-Deal - A Time Travel Thriller”. Richard both cautions his readers and reminds them that nearly all of the events that plague the novel’s protagonist, Matt McCain, actually happened to him in his youth – from getting shot up with heroin, thrown out a window, and left to die; where his eyes are burned with a magnifying glass; fighting ten different Karate black belts; chased by the mob; later succumbing to weakness by cheating honest folks at the card table; and, thankfully, finally discovering the values of forgiveness, honesty and integrity that would shape his adult life and, ultimately, serve as the best legacy any father could leave his son. For those of you interested, here are three excerpts from “Re-Deal - A Time Travel Thriller” to whet your appetites: Snippet #1 …Matt demanded with icy venom, “How did you find us?” Carlos scowled as he glowered deep into Matt's eyes. He wanted his victim to fear him. “Gave your old man a new phone. Had caller ID, very useful. Now I have a message for you from Big Lew. He said he’s tired of hunting you down. He told me to tell you that you better take the 200,000 bucks he’s offered you to deal in his big Texas Holdem game. This is your last chance. If you don’t take this final offer, your family will endure permanent,” he smiled sadistically as he said, “consequences.” “Not interested,” Matt said firmly as he used his cane to force his attacker back. “I won’t use my skills to cheat for any amount of money.” “Oh, well, looky here.” Carlos noticed the walking stick. “I see the fried-eyed Magoo needs a cane now. That’s too bad for the poor, helpless, blind boy.” Matt felt an icy place deep in his gut erupt into fury and heat at the hated expression ‘blind boy.’ He tried to stifle the sensation, but a fuse had started to sizzle. When the flame reached his emotional limit, he exploded. “If you even touch my family, I’ll hunt you down! And so help me God, I’ll rip your arms off and shove them down that sharp mouth of yours!” His eyes went cold as ice. “I also suspect you were behind one of those bags with that magnifying glass.” Matt remembered the terror that had filled his body and mind on that horrible day when he was fourteen years old. He had struggled and tried to scream, but he was held tight. The most terrifying part was that no one made a sound. At one point, he had seen one of his attackers; however, the paper sack covering the assailant’s face prevented him from identifying his foe. His blood chilled as he remembered the cold stare from eyes filled with pleasure for the evil they were about to inflict. He had felt his head being twisted to stare into the blazing sun intensified by the magnifying glass. Matt cried from the intense pain and reflexively bit the hand that covered his mouth. His attacker had cursed. “Ah! The Loser McCain bit me!” Another voice ordered, “Shut your fat mouth!” The last thing Matt remembered about the attack on his eyes were the words whispered into his ear just before his attackers left him helpless in the field. “Listen to me, Loser McCain. If you mention any names, your little sister will be next.” Matt had never mentioned any names. He'd never known for sure who had attacked him, but he was sure Carlos had something to do with it. “Yeah, right! Ancient history,” Carlos scoffed. “And untrue besides. You ingrate! You owe your extraordinary touch with cards to me. It wasn’t an attack — it was for your own benefit. Big Lew wanted to improve your touch with the tickets.” “I’ll make you a deal.” Matt gripped his cane with fiery anger. “Tell that big rat to fork over the ranch his family robbed from us, and I’ll come teach you how to play Old Maid.” “No deal! Here’s something else for you to consider. Suppose a meat axe were to fall from the sky, then stab across your old man’s hands, chopping his thumbs off. It could happen. It’s a nasty world out there, Magoo.” Carlos grinned in anticipation as he advanced. Matt always suspected Carlos had been the beast that actually held the blinding magnifying glass as it seared his eyes. Now he'd as much as admitted it. Carlos felt evil delight seeing Matt remember that day. “I’m going to make you hurt, Magoo, and I’m gonna enjoy every minute of it.”… Snippet #2 …Matt took charge. “Please let me tell you my ideas. I’ve dreamt about doing this for years. If we can go back, I’ll need to establish myself as a champion poker player. During this time, like you said, I’ll need to earn at least 100 grand to qualify and then buy a seat at the poker championship of the West. This way, I’ll be able to play in the same game as my great grandfather, or better, I might be able to stop him from gambling his ranch. I'll establish my reputation by exposing the dishonest gamblers and their cheating methods. This should encourage them to play honestly, or they’ll be forced from the game.” “Yeah,” Juan pointed his forefinger like a gun and grinned. “That’s unless another player blasts them first.” This might work, Matt thought. He was finally feeling a bit hopeful. He pulled a pack of Bicycle cards from his pocket. He fanned them out. “To get a feel for the times, I think we should start in Deadwood, South Dakota. In this town the Marshal, Wild Bill Hickok, didn’t allow firearms within the city boundaries. That should hopefully cut down the risk of any unwanted gunplay. My thought is to work our way forward through time and establish a champion poker reputation as we earn the money for the big game.” “Wow,” Michala said. “Ya really got this thought out.”… Snippet #3 The Poker Championship of the West July 12, 1882, Bowen’s Palace, Santa Fe, New Mexico Lucas McCain was a lean man with light hair, a beard, and a deep tan that came from years spent outside working his cattle ranch. Lucas was outfitted in a tailored coat with a tan Stetson, black cowboy boots, pressed pants, and a belt with a gold buckle of engraved cards. The gold fan of cards held two aces and two eights with a nine of diamonds set in the center—the combination called the Dead Man’s Hand. The beaten gold buckle had been a gift from his late wife after the killing of his comrade, Wild Bill Hickok. A uniformed doorman brought an umbrella to shade the wealthy rancher and escorted him up the steps of Bowen’s Palace. Baldheaded George Devol and Buckskin, a rifleman dressed all in leather, watched from inside. “It's McCain,” Devol growled. “Cypher wants him unarmed.” The doors began to close behind Lucas but were stopped by the two thugs. They pinned their gun muzzles to Lucas’ head and pushed him backward across the threshold. Devol glared coldly. “Invitation?” He twitched his bald head toward his accomplice and ordered, “Buckskin, rummage his pockets good.” Lucas kept his hands raised to the sky as the pelt-covered gunman poked his pockets and found his gun. “Don’t find no invite,” Buckskin said as he removed the weapon. “Actually,” Lucas replied with a deep Texas drawl, “I’ve been invited.” A middle-aged Mexican lady with warm brown eyes and a gentle smile sidled up to Lucas. Maria Bowen, the beautiful wife of the proprietor, wore a floor-length daisy-yellow dress with a single yellow rose in her long, brown hair. Maria wrapped her arm around Lucas’s arm. “Luke McCain, tastefully late as always.” Lucas grinned with a timid tip of his hat. “And yer lovely as usual.” “Why thank you!” Maria turned to the guard. “I’ll take custody of this one, Mr. Devol.” She pulled Lucas past Devol and said under her breath, “Careful with that George Devol—he’s mean.” George watched McCain and growled at Buckskin, “Watch the door. I’ll go tell Cypher that McCain is here and unarmed.”… Maria walked him up some steps toward a knot of people congregated on a higher level in the room. She led him to the bar where her husband Jamie and Bat Masterson were going over their plans. Jamie Bowen, a thin, dapper man, brandished a cigar. Maria placed her hand on Bowen's shoulder and said, “Jamie, Luke is here.” Bowen turned to face Lucas and relaxed. He tossed the last of his cigar into a shiny brass spittoon freckled with globs of tobacco and tar. He grabbed Lucas’s hand. "Luke! What did you do, walk?” “It’s a long trail from Texas,” Lucas said as he gripped back. He leaned toward Bat Masterson’s offered hand. “Good ta see ya again too, Bat.” Bat nodded upstairs. “Cypher’s up there with his team of gunfighters. His days as a murderer and exploiter of cheap labor are numbered. We're going to bust the scalawag once and for all.” “Yeah,” Lucas agreed. “Cypher has beat the judicial system for the last time.” “Luke, we grieve with you,” Bat said as he warmly placed his hand on Lucas’s shoulder. “Even with your personal loss, we’re so thankful you decided to accept Cypher’s no-limit poker challenge. You're the only one rich enough to raise the 100,000 dollar cash buy-in.” “Thanks, Bat,” Luke returned, trying to hide his aching heart. “I’ve accepted this here challenge as my civic duty. I don’t feel sorry for Cypher. He’s chosen the devil’s path ta destruction. I believe gambling is a foolish risk of one’s hard earnings. But three of his kills were in Texas.” He left unspoken that one of those kills was his beloved wife Elizabeth. He visibly tightened. “That’s why I want ta see that evil man finally stopped and destroyed.” He turned to Bowen. “I understand Governor Prince has been told our plan and is gonna stand with us.” “That’s right,” Bowen replied. “The Governor is in town and is gonna watch the game.” Snippet #4 The Biggest Raise Ever Masterson approached the table with an air of command. He saluted the crowd with his diamond-studded cane, and the crowd responded with enthusiastic applause. He stepped up behind a green felt poker table, which separated Cypher and McCain, and said to the excited gathering, “Thank you, Jamie! Welcome to this no-limit poker showdown!” He gestured with his walking stick. “I would now like to introduce our two players. Here on my left we have John Cypher. He set forth the dare that he could whip anyone, even in an above-board game. For this showdown we will hold Cypher to those words.” Cypher pushed his chair back and stood up. He drew back his lips into a twisted smile, exposing a mouth full of jagged teeth. As he tipped back his hat, he exposed bulging ferret eyes that scanned from one side of the saloon to the other. “Now there is a smile only Lucifer could love,” Masterson said with a sneer. He turned away and gestured. “Over here on my right, accepting John Cypher’s duel, is Lucas McCain. I’ve known Luke for many years. His ranch in West Texas is second in size only to Governor Prince’s lands. Luke is one of the few gentleman gamblers still alive.” A burst of applause erupted and McCain stood and nodded with a modest smile. Masterson held his arms out straight. “This showdown is for the poker championship of the West.” Loud screams and whistles greeted his announcement. “But first the rules,” Masterson continued. “In this contest, there will be no limit on betting. And at Cypher’s insistence, both players are obligated to have the cash or property on hand. No IOU’s will be accepted.” His eyes were packed with loathing as he looked down at John Cypher. Masterson scowled at Cypher and then gave a nod to Lucas. “Gentlemen, please be seated. The first shuffle goes to the challenger, Mister Cypher.” They each anted 500 dollars, and Lucas opened the first round of betting. After about two hours of slow, assiduous play, Cypher grew impatient and resolved to get down to the business at hand. He signaled to the bartender for a fresh deck. Devol had earlier replaced the saloon’s decks with ones stacked in Cypher’s favor and then resealed them like new. “This deck has gone soft,” Cypher snapped. “Bartender, bring us a fresh unopened pack.” Cypher brought his cheating dexterity into play. He ostentatiously opened the fresh deck and false-shuffled the cards, retaining Devol’s stacked deck. Cypher delicately signaled to Devol. “Cypher's ready to bring my stacked deck into play,” Devol explained to Andrews. “McCain will get a strong full house, three bullets and two hooks, and Cypher will get four cowboys. But if everything goes according to our game plan, McCain will fold, Cypher will be the new owner of McCain’s ranch, and Prince will be a mountain of worm food.” He rubbed his hands together. “And, of course, we'll split the cash.” Devol watched as Cypher passed the deck over to McCain for the cut. “Stand back. Time for a little distraction.” Devol jumped up, ran across the casino with a roar, and rammed his granite-hard head into the door. The crowd jumped and squealed as they watched the door crack in two. Cypher picked up the deck and hopped the cut, placing the top stack back on top, keeping the stacked deck. Lucas glanced between Devol and Cypher and suspected some kind of collusion between the two killers. “Devol, that’ll cost you fifty bucks,” Bowen protested. “You’re to guard the door, not demolish it!” “Oh, don’t get all uppity, Bowen. It's just a small crack.” “Gentlemen! Gentlemen!” Masterson tapped his cane hard on the dark wood floor. “The game, please.” Cypher smiled to himself at Devol’s brazen diversion. He picked up the uncut deck and dealt a hand of five-card draw. Lucas picked up his cards and smiled to himself when he saw three aces and two jacks. He counted off five bills and, showing no emotion or change of demeanor, began the betting. “Let’s make this little contest more interestin’. I'll open with five big bills.” He tossed 5,000 dollars to the table. This was the moment Cypher had waited for. He counted off 25,000. "McCain, I call your pitiful five and raise you another twenty.” “I don’t think you're bluffing,” Lucas said, staring as if reading Cypher’s mind. “The way you jumped in with that bet, I think you have at least four of a kind.” Lucas suspected that this viper had cheated and knew what his cards were. He decided to throw Cypher a curve ball by breaking up his full house and drawing for the fourth ace. Lucas tossed twenty thousand-dollar bills into the pot. “Here is yer pint-sized raise.” He threw away his two jacks and said, “Give me two cards.” Cypher was so stunned that he almost dropped the deck. No one would be so dim as to break up a pat hand for the scanty chance of drawing something stronger. He reluctantly dealt the two cards. Lucas asked, “How many cards are ya gonna take?” “I'm going to draw one card,” Cypher answered. He dealt a single card to himself and leaned back in his chair, holding on to the four kings he already had. Tension sparked in the saloon. Lucas looked at his cards…
"If all a man can count on is finally pushing up the grass, when I do I'll lay you odds that grass is mine!" - Theme Song For The T.V. Series BRET MAVERICK, by Ed Bruce
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kcg5 Inner circle who wants four fried chickens and a coke 1868 Posts |
If these sample chapters are this good, I cant wait for the book. Many positive reviews on amazon.
Nobody expects the spanish inquisition!!!!!
"History will be kind to me, as I intend to write it"- Sir Winston Churchill |
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