The No Ante Cup
The big one. Win the game, get the engraving, hold the trophy — and the title — for one full year.
Some friendships are maintained over dinner. Ours is settled over cards.
It started in Palo Alto in 1985 — a borrowed table, a case of beer, and an argument about whether aces could be wild that has technically never been resolved. What began as a card game became the fixed point of the calendar: once a year, from wherever life has scattered us, the group comes back to the table.
About forty games in, it has outlasted companies founded and sold, knees replaced, and more bad beats than anyone agrees on. The stakes have never really been the money. They're the engravings — three trophies that carry more weight than any of us will admit out loud.
Forty years of photos, replayed forever. Curated by the commissioner.
Have a memory to share? Send it to [email protected].
Three trophies. One engraver. No appeals.
The big one. Win the game, get the engraving, hold the trophy — and the title — for one full year.
Outlast the field and make the last hand. Your name goes on, win or lose it from there.
Awarded to the worst player. If you have to ask what you did to earn it, you probably earned it.
Everyone who’s ever pulled up a chair.