Shark
Omar Wells
St. Louis, Missouri
Signature move: The setup — gives you the trick he doesn't need to take the three he does
“That one? You could have that one.”
Omar Wells captained his high school chess team in St. Louis, and he never really stopped playing chess — he just switched boards. Where most players fight for the trick in front of them, Omar is somewhere around move nine of forty, cheerfully handing you a book he never wanted so your partner has to lead into the three he did.
That’s his signature and his tell, if you can even call it that: when Omar gives something up easily, the trap is already set. New players think they’re beating him for most of a hand. Then the hand ends, the count comes out, and they replay the whole thing on the drive home trying to find the exact moment it went wrong. (It was earlier than they think. It’s always earlier than they think.)
Deacon Rowe, a man of few endorsements, once described Omar’s endgame as “tidy” — which, translated from Deacon, is roughly a standing ovation.