You can keep your late afternoon sun warming the budding trees after an April shower, because I’d rather be inside, gambling in a Marlboro-filled basement over a felt table stained with Budweiser, a longneck in one hand, three kings in the other.

Yes, this is the Daily’s spring tab. And nothing says spring like … poker?

Well anyway, Gus and I like to play.

Yes indeed, poker is the sport of . gamblers. Of course we also understand that not everybody is as keen to the poker lingo as Paul and I, so we are here to educate.

The rules of poker are really quite simple. You don’t need any complicated equipment – like a ball – you just need some cards, some money (you can also gamble away your first born if times are tight) and a place to play.

The rest, as Paul will show you, is quite simple.

Sometimes I’m dealt two cards, sometimes I’m dealt five, sometimes seven.

The important thing is that I’m drinking while these cards come my way. And this, I cannot stress enough.

Beer loosens the nerves, makes me more attuned to the bluffers around me, less aware of the dwindling chips before me.

So when you throw down a patriot – nothing says a healthy bet like red, white and blue chips – after throwing down another beer, find comfort in the gambler’s mantra, regardless of the hand’s outcome: Everybody is bluffing. Two tens will beat everyone.

Everyone.

I guess, I’ll have to do the explaining here. The game is Texas Hold `em. The rules: two cards are dealt to each player. The player then decides if they want to stay in (money is put into the `pot’).

Three more cards are laid down – mental note: Kix has nothing – again the player decides if they want to stay in. Again money is exchanged.

One more card is laid down, this is the `turn’ and again money can be exchanged.

Yet one more card `the river’ is laid down. This is the final card, there should be seven total. You play the best five. For the sake of space, these rules aren’t that good, but if you knew how to play, it wouldn’t be so easy for me to take your money.

By this point, I have $2.50 in. Regardless of cards. Everyone else has nothing. Everyone else has nothing.

After I lay my cards down, I wait until no one else claims the pot.

It’s now mine. And I still don’t know how to play.

You see, Gus explains games about as well as Joe Theisman.

So as not to muddle my mind, I smile and nod while he’s furrowing his brow and saying things like “You get it Paul. Do you see?” (You should have been doing this as well four paragraphs ago.)

This ignorance of course, raises problems at the poker table.

Like when people look at me, searching for some sort of response after Gus takes the chips, I’ll say something like “Som bitch. Nearly had it there.”

The solemn nods I receive are proof enough that I’m a good player.

Paul, go ahead and keep thinking that, while you do I’ll go get an extra pail to hold my money. Indeed three kings beat a two, four, six, eight, 10.

Sorry Paul the divisible by two straight doesn’t count in this game.

And put your shirt back on, in this game you pay dollars, not clothing.

So how did I end up with your boxers as the “Grand Prize” last time we played?

The strategy for taking Paul’s money, rely on his incompetence.

He doesn’t know what’s what.

If he lays three aces and two queens, a full house, but he doesn’t know that, simply tell him that it is much more prestigious to have a pair of black cards and three red ones.

He’ll believe you, right Paul.

Damn you.

And anyway, didn’t I just say that? You weren’t supposed to break our agreement. We had an agreement.

You tell me when I win at poker. I tell you when you’re funny.

And this breachment is not funny.

This column isn’t either.

You’re right. I’ll BET nobody reads this far and if they do, I’m sorry because it’s not going to get any better.

Filler my friend, filler.

But at least we’ve educated some people, not Paul, on how much fun poker can be.

In this time of baseball and outdoor sports there’s always a place for overweight slobs to get involved in sports. Besides golf.

Or maybe we could combine sports, like baseball and gambling.

Hey look at Pete Rose, he is the all-time leader in hits: on the field and the blackjack table.

Good enough for Pete, good enough for me.

And me. Regardless of modeling my life after the current representative of Maaco.

Jeremy Gustafson is a senior in journalism and mass communication from Ogden. He is sports editor of the Daily

Paul Kix is a junior in journalism and mass communication from Hubbard. He is a senior reporter for the Daily.

Both were forced to do this column, please don’t hold `em responsible.