Editor’s note: This is another in a series of occasional columns by long-time Ann Arbor resident Robert Faber on what he describes as his most recently acquired area of expertise - growing old.

Seven grown men sitting around the table, laughing, telling stories both humorous and serious, critiquing each other’s skills in ways rarely complimentary - then an ominous silence.

The banter dies down and an air of tension grips the group, awaiting whatever might come next. Then, throwing a big pile of chips onto the center of the table, the Dean, with a large and confident grin, makes his bombshell announcement — quad aces! Four of a kind - all aces - just about the best hand a lively imagination can conceive.

Just about - but not quite.

After a charged moment of silence, the Golfer flashes a broad grin of confidence and pleasure, turns over his Royal Flush, and rakes in a massive pot of money.

Back in the days of ol’ Doc Holliday and Wyatt Earp and Wild Bill, such a scene still had more parts to play. In those days, most players kept a gun on their lap to settle disputes or to ease the frustration of improbably fortunate draws. But this ain’t Deadwood or Dodge City. This is Ann Arbor, home of the University of Michigan, and the only weapons evident are a few pocketknives with fingernail clippers at one end.

And the injured party, the dumbfounded Dean, stands silent for just a moment trying to come to terms with what just happened, then slowly beginning to smile in spreading disbelief, offers his hand of congratulations to the victor and acknowledges this to be the most remarkable defeat he had ever imagined. And that is the essence of the attitude that pervades the Thursday Night Poker group. It’s not just the game - it’s the players.

The evening of poker is built around such games as Texas Hold ‘Em and Omaha and all the many variations of each. The hand opens with a small ante from the dealer, but with bets limited only by the chips on the table, the game can soon morph into some serious-sized pots, some of the pain of which we try to control by settling for half at the end of the evening.

But very much more than the category or the rules or the results of the game, it is the players themselves who define the evening. All members of the group are serious about the game, playing for stakes that add up to fairly significant dollars and that allow for no inattention, but for every player, win or lose, it is primarily an evening of camaraderie, an evening of pleasure, an evening of serious political and social analyses and biting humor.

The players are a broad assortment of responsible and productive residents from both the Town and Gown communities who like the game and each other and are totally removed from the more traditional image of the green eye-shaded gambler.

The Golfer in the example noted above, for example, is really less than an inspiring athlete. He’s an older, retired merchant who took late-in-life lessons to learn the game of golf, wrote his conclusions in a book about Senior Golf that never sold, and with a game that still rests on the low side of barely adequate. But I hope to improve.

It is not the academic qualifications or economic success or social achievements that shape the group - it is the rare combination of a competitive spirit tempered by a natural sense of fairness and compassion and spirit of good fellowship. To a large extent and for better or worse, the way we play poker is an expression of our personalities, making the game more a celebration of friendship and pleasure than a scientific exercise. Given the intellectually disciplined backgrounds of most of our players, for example, it’s not surprising that most bets are made or called on the basis of carefully calculated odds - estimating the number of beneficial cards still in the deck balanced against the potential winnings of each pot.

But poker is not all science. Even with reliance on pure logic, cold calculation and patience, some room remains for the reckless fantasies of naive dreamers and damn fools - like me. My natural, often foolish, optimism has me convinced that each of the coming cards will be the one that fills my straight or flush or full house - a conclusion, unfortunately, rarely supported by fact. But it is just such personal idiosyncrasies that add a great deal of drama and excitement to the evening and makes the total experience so rich and rewarding.

While the motivation of money won or lost remains a serious factor in the climate of the evening and a prime measurement by which the night is judged, it is not the only gauge. The special pleasures that accompany the evening’s interaction between interesting and interested players competing and sharing and enjoying each other’s company is enough - win or lose - to make the evening less of a gamble and much more a sure thing.

Note: For the past 40 years Peter Steiner, former Dean of LS&A and author of the book, “Thursday Night Poker,” had been an integral part of the poker group identified in this article. On June 24th, Peter was helped to the table, proceeded to win a majority of hands - as usual - then died the next day. He is missed.

Bob Faber has been a resident of Ann Arbor since 1954. He and his wife, Eunice, owned a fabric store and later a travel agency. He served a couple of terms on the Ann Arbor City Council. He may be reached at rgfaber@comcast.net.