“I don’t want to be the modern-day Stu Ungar. I want to be me.”
There are different types of poker comebacks. Some start with a chip and a chair. Others feature a big win at the end of a devastating downswing. David ‘Chino’ Rheem is known for his flair at the felt, his style amid the success, his whip-smart wits and tournament tactics that see him sit comfortably inside the top 100 tournament poker players of all time.
He’s won battles all over the world. But the greatest battle Chino has been facing was inside his own head…. and he’s still fighting it.
A Cycle of Addiction
“I’d win a tournament for seven figures and be broke within a week.”
Chino’s success in poker has masked what many people inside and outside the game don’t know – that he’s been an addict for over a decade. Building up over years of what you might call ‘social partying’, Chino got addicted to drugs after years of excess in gambling took its toll.
“I’ll be very open and honest. For me, alcohol was the never the issue. It was hardcore drugs. For a long time, I’d go out to a club, a rave or a festival and use ecstasy, cocaine or amphetamines. It never really got out of hand.”
That was until Chino managed to curtail the addiction that had plagued him for the majority of his adult life – gambling. Not poker, where he had a huge edge on his fellow players. Table games. They call it transferring addiction. He went from the felt to the hard stuff.
“For the majority of my poker career, I was a stone degenerate,” Chino admits. “Baccarat, craps, blackjack, anything. I’d win a tournament for seven figures and whether I was staked or not, however much money I saw, I’d be broke within a week. It happened five times. I was too much of a degenerate to learn my lesson and stop.”
Transferring addiction is when you stop one addiction and your illness forces that urge, that intense need to do something harmful to yourself, into another. This second addiction fills the void of the original addiction. For gambling, read drugs, in Chino’s case.
“I was completely stuck in my world and in the life that I was living. I could always find or borrow more money. I was happily stuck in it for some reason. It was very dark. Then, honestly, by God’s hand, I stopped on my own. It was miraculous. I was fed up with chasing, being broke and feeling miserable. I never gambled [table games] again.”
Escaping the Maze
“There was never any intent to screw anyone over.”
Anyone who has known someone with an addiction knows that to help them out of the mess that they are in is a little like being suspended a long way up from a very large maze. Guiding your friend out is hard work, and in the end, they have to find the right path themselves. Many people accused Chino of failing to want to pay back those who had lent him money for poker buy-ins.
“It was never that,” he tells us firmly. “My reputation isn’t the best and I’m OK with that; my actions led to that reputation. I’m working hard to show that I’m not the same person. I had an addiction to gambling. I could not hold on to money. People from the poker world know that when I have money, I make efforts to pay debts. When I won a big tournament, there would be a line at the cage to get payment and everyone would get something.”
That wasn’t an easy line to pay off. Anyone not at the venue would miss out. Chino would enter the same spiral as ever.
“I would try to do it as fairly as possible,” he says with a deal of sadness coming through in broken words. “It sucks for people that weren’t there when I won the tournament. It’s not that I forgot about them but by the time I would try to do right by everyone and leave a little to myself, it was gone. I’d gamble or give to my family, and it was gone. That was a repeated process I went through for many years of my life. There was never any intent to screw anyone over.”
Defining the Disease
“I win big numbers and lose big numbers daily, but it takes away from my recovery.”
Any addict in recovery – and Chino admits this is his life now – will tell you that realising that they have a disease is a major step in the right direction.
“Getting into recovery and getting sober, you learn about yourself. I didn’t know that until I got sober around three years ago. I want to be clear; I still have a lot of work to do, I’m still growing and learning about myself. I work on my daily habits. It’s hard. I have a sponsor and a great support group.”
One of the biggest reasons that Chino is working hard in poker is to pay people back. That and creating the right balance between working on his game and working on himself.
“I play a lot of hours and I’m in good action, very big cash games and big game tournaments. I win big numbers and lose big numbers daily, but it takes away from my recovery. I need to work on finding a better balance to my life.”
Chino admits that while he used to go to meetings three times a day and the gym five times a week, a recent influx on the poker side of his life has made it harder to strike ‘the right balance to be full my happy and content in my life’.
“This year I’m looking to do better than that. No money in the world is worth my sobriety, my peace of mind or mental strength.
Call it a Comeback
“It’s about finally climbing out of that hole.”
Over the last three years, Chino has been working hard to pay off debt, turning his winnings into a part of his redemption. It’s a battle he continues to fight, but one that is getting easier.
“The pressure to finally get out of the hole has lessened tremendously,” he tells us. “There’s always been a pressure in my mind, but people have seen changes in me. They’ll text me after a tournament, congratulating me and letting me know where I’m at and asking what I can pay.”
We ask if that makes it harder, but a truth – perhaps a very tough one to admit – is that after years of doing so, it has become part of Chino’s way of life.
“It’s not hard for the simple fact that I’m used to it and know how to handle it,” he says. “It’s more about doing it and finally climbing out of that hole and being even, not owing anyone. I’m getting there. I have a goal. There’s variance and I can’t control that, but I can control how I react to it and learn from it. That’s what makes me a better, stronger person I’ve ever been by far.”
Shades of Ungar
“I made a lot of poor decisions in the past out of desperation.”
The version of Chino way back when put himself in what he admits were ‘desperate’ situations.
“I was trying to hit home runs to get myself of spots I put myself in,” he admits. “I could have taken my time and been upfront and honest, slowed down a lot. I made a lot of poor decisions in the past out of desperation. Its taught me things, I’ve learned a lot of things about myself personally that I wasn’t able to see back then. There’s been a lot of growth.”
Chino first got sober three years ago at a rehab center in Florida, then moved in with his sponsor. Getting into a routine, Chino followed his sponsor’s advice and things went well. Relapsing was painful, but having seen he needed to change, Chino got help for a longer period of time in the Far East.
“I’ve not been perfect, I made mistakes. After my second relapse, I went to rehab in Thailand for three months. It was very peaceful there, I learned spirituality, mindfulness and yoga. My support group is the best ever. I’m so grateful for the people I have in my corner. It truly believe that God put these people into my life.”
A poker legend from the past inevitably comes to mind when we, as poker fans, consider lost talents who lost their lives due to addiction – Stu Ungar. Chino acknowledges the parallels.
“Stu died from cocaine and that was my drug of choice,” he says with a rueful melancholy. “There have been times where I’ve thought I’m like a modern-day Stu Ungar, but it helped me realise that I don’t want to be a modern-day Stu Ungar; I want to be me. I want to shine light into this world, I don’t want to live in the dark anymore. I don’t want to escape reality by doing drugs.”
Finding the Balance
“I lived an addict’s lifestyle and couldn’t pull myself out of it.”
In another echo from Stu’s life, Chino has a major reason to make it on the road to recovery. We all remember Ungar holding up the photo of his daughter when he won the WSOP Main Event in 1997. A year after that poignant moment where the world hoped Stuey’s life would turn around, ‘The Kid’ was dead. Chino doesn’t want to tread the same path.
“I just had a son, my first child. His name is Leo and he’s seven months old. It’s great. I wish I could say that I stay sober for myself, and I want to, but he’s the number one reason I wake up and want to stay sober. There’s nothing wrong with that. I want to show up for the people who need me, be present and appreciate life. That never crossed my mind for years of my life. I was stuck in an addict’s mentality; I lived an addict’s lifestyle and couldn’t pull myself out of it until I got help.”
Chino lives his days more simply now. Not so much of a new start, but a continuance of his recovery, a rebirth and growth that he doesn’t want to stop. He’s fully aware of the many mistakes he’s made, but he’s finding a new rhythm. In his own words, he still has ‘so much more work to do’.
“I work hard and I’m trying to find a better balance in my recovery. A friend of mine, Andrew Lichtenberger, ‘Chewy’, asked me to go rock-climbing so I’m going to do that. Most poker players are a great group of people, they’re just tremendous human beings and I want to be in that group. I won’t be able to do that unless I stay sober. As long I keep working on my recovery, I can do that.”
Over the years, every poker player faces adversity. Chino Rheem has faced more than most. For the first time in a career defined for many by his success at the felt, Chino is finally conscious that the biggest battle he faces is with himself.
He’s determined to win that battle.
