Thank you for bearing with me in my week-long absence. Please understand that this lacuna in my posting was very, very, very, very, very fun. Necessary! I meant necessary!
As you know, I was amazed to discover a fortnight ago that the entire final table of the 2008 Main Even of the WSOP was made up of my friends and acquaintances. I know! Unbelievable! Because of this extraordinary confluence, I did what any responsible and decent human being who was trying to make a quick buck would have done: I started publishing unembellished and true profiles of them, the better to inform the poker community at large, or at least to inform all the people who read my blog, by whom I mean, Pete.
But soon my altruism led me into a morass of danger and ugliness. Shadowy entities threatened me first with legal action, then with bodily harm, and finally with grisly death for me and my family. Upon investigation, it became clear to me that ESPN, fearing the damage I would do to the false narrative they wished to foist upon the nine finalists, had put a significant price on my head. And that's why I had to go underground for all of last week, trusting only on my wits, my millions of dollars, my rugged good looks, my near-encyclopedic understanding of all makes and calibers of deadly weapons and explosives, and my decade's training in black ops elite counter-espionage assassin ninja school at UC Berkeley.
Now I have finished what business I had with the Worldwide Leader, and I'm quite pleased to report that my victory has been absolute. Nothing but a smoldering crater marks the spot which once was the turbid town of Bristol, Connecticut. Kenny Mayne has sworn fealty to me and promised a mighty tribute each year in cash, beef jerky, and play poker chips on ESPN.com's poker room. Bill Simmons has agreed to only print my letters in his Mailbag for the next seven years, and to never write about poker ever again. Stuart Scott has signed away both his lazy eye and his "Boo-ya" to me.*
And so, finally, it's over. I and my family have been put beyond the reach of that nefarious network, forever. I'm free to finish delivering to you, as promised, the nine true human faces behind the hype that has already begun to foment from the media moss like so many poisoned mushrooms. Therefore, today, and every day for the rest of this week, I'll be bringing you the triple truth, Ruth, and that should finish us up for the final table.
* I will, of course, put "Boo-ya" in escrow, ensconced in a safe deposit box, where it will never bother anybody ever again. You are quite welcome.
Name: Darus Suharto
Occupation: Stuntman, Elementary School Teacher.
Nickname: "Mildred Massachusetts."
Poker Style: Darus actually isn't yet aware that he is playing poker. He thinks he is playing a Euchre variant called "Oopsie Dingus", and is operating under the assumption that Ylon Schwartz has been his playing partner since halfway through Day 5. I would assume somebody will tell him before November. If nobody else does, I will.
Card Capper: Darus just rests his head on the table, which includes his cards. Good enough.
Favorite Country Song: Dropkick Me, Jesus, Through the Goalposts of Life, by Bobby Bare
Brief Bio: Darus is one of the toughest dudes in the world. You cannot hurt him. Don't even try it. Better men than you have dented their sledge hammers, bent their front bumpers, and made their brand new brass knuckles cry 'uncle.' He's one of guys they use in the movies whenever they want to drop somebody off of a building.
Don't believe the talk about safety nets and CGI, etc. It's all been unionized since the 1940's, back when there were no special effects technology or precautionary measures, and as the Forties is the decade when the rules got drafted, the practice thereof has not budged so much as a Moorish menhir ever since. So, even if the studio uses CGI, they have to pay union fees just the same as if they'd dropped somebody for real. They even had to cough it up for union stunt work on The Simpsons Movie. Sometimes if the studio is in a pinch, they'll drop a dummy, such as Dustin Diamond or Cory Haim, but even so Darus gets paid anyway. Pretty sweet gig if you have the pain threshold for it.
Darus gets all the building drops in the Midwest territory, so whenever they are shooting in Chicago or the Twin Cities or even Bad Axe, Michigan, Darus is the guy they call, unless the person being dropped goes through a window of some kind. They've got another guy to get thrown through windows. Daris actually prefers working Bad Axe to Chicago, where the tallest building is a mere two-and-a-half stories. After they dropped him off the John Hancock building the first time, he couldn't remember anything that started with the letter "T" for a while. The second time, he couldn't poo for sixteen months. It's tough stuff, even for somebody as rugged as Darus, but that's why he's paid the big bucks. His current hobbies are drooling while staring off into the middle distance, and stroking a tiny piece of chamois cloth, which feels so nice and soothing on his palms.
He likes poker, mainly for the felt tables. They're so soft.
He's one of my oldest chums. I've known him since 2nd grade. I hope he wins, because he plans to use some of the money to buy a new spine and a reinforced skull.
Fun Fact: Much like known pros such as "Skittery" Phil Laak and David "David" Williams, Darus played Hungry Hungry Hippos for years before finding prominence in the poker world. He is a star on the professional Hungry Hungry Hippos tour, where he's won over $14,000 and a lifetime supply of S'mores.