Jared Soares | The Roanoke Times

Ricky Booth of Roanoke (left) and Steven Woods of Rocky Mount laugh after finishing a hand during a regional poker tournament Sunday at Shenandoah Restaurant in Roanoke. The game was no-limit Texas hold ’em; the prize was a chance to be in the nationals.

If you ask Steven Woods, there is a huge difference between playing cards and playing poker.

Cards aren't even needed for poker, the 44-year-old from Rocky Mount said. Just moxie, guts and the ability to be on your toes.

"And get lucky," he continued. " 'Cause that's part of it."

At first glance, Woods may not look like a champion in his jeans and Gray Goose ball cap. But here he was Sunday, crowded with others in the open-doored, smoke-filled Shenandoah Restaurant hoping to defend his title as regional Texas hold 'em champion.

For the past year, the Roanoke eatery has played host to poker games every Saturday and Tuesday. But the ante was upped Sunday when two representatives from North Carolina-based World Tavern Poker visited, hosting the Southwest Virginia regionals for no-limit Texas hold 'em.

There was no buy-in, no prizes more valuable than T-shirts and no chips exchanged for cash -- gambling, after all, is illegal in Virginia. Instead, the 64 who played were vying for something else -- the top three secured a spot at next month's nationals in Atlantic City, N.J. The winner of that tournament goes to this summer's World Series of Poker in Las Vegas.

Because he won a regional tournament in Martinsville last fall, Woods already has a seat at the nationals. Yet he was hoping to take home another trophy Sunday -- a pair of bookends, he joked.

But he was not the only player with ambition. As the registration line stretched out the door, most people said their odds of winning were as good as anyone's.

That's the thing about Texas hold 'em -- no matter what your skill, your moxie or your ability to think on your toes, any card could make or break a hand -- changing your luck just like that.

"Texas hold 'em is like fighting a war," said contestant T.J. Jeffries, a 41-year-old from Roanoke. "Texas hold 'em is the most vicious game to play."

The game began later than expected -- out-of-towners blamed bad Internet maps. The band AC/DC on the sound system was hushed in the wood-paneled bar, whose walls are a mosaic of license plates, fabric flower wreaths, a cow skull and a blue swordfish. Poker tables were spread throughout the bar, where everyone seemed to know one another, beside mustard-yellow booths and blocking the NASCAR-themed pinball machine.

Hands began when each player was dealt two facedown cards. Three cards face up -- community cards -- were dealt in the middle. There were two more rounds of betting and two more community cards -- all with the goal of forming the best hand of five.

Texas hold 'em has been around for decades, explained Roger Barnes, who came to Roanoke on Sunday with World Tavern Poker. But it exploded in popularity in recent years thanks to televised tournaments and cameras that let viewers see players' hands.

It's a surge Barnes has seen up close. His company began Texas hold 'em tournaments in 2004 with seven participating bars. Now, nearly 300 watering holes in 28 states and five countries participate -- in places from Alaska and Hawaii to South Korea and Spain.

The reason, Barnes said, is that while the average Joe can't slam-dunk a basketball like an NBA star or sink a putt like golfers on the PGA tour, almost anyone can play poker.

"They see on TV that the average person can walk away with a million dollars," he said. "They go, 'Hey, I can do that.' "

A few hours into Sunday's tournament, many players learned not everyone can "do that" when it comes to Texas hold 'em. Just 15 players remained at the black, felt-topped tables among the snap of shuffling cards and the click-clack of chips.

Woods, the defending champion, was still there, cupping his fingers on the table and peering at his cards.

"Sorry y'all," he said when he won a hand, leaving his table with one more empty seat.

Sometimes, the pot went to the player beside Woods in the Redskins jersey. Or to the guy at the end of the table who frequently gave cellphone updates, "I'm still in."

The number of players thinned to 10 -- five at each table. When two players at the other table dropped, Barnes made an announcement to Woods' group.

"You made the final table gentlemen," he said.

As Woods stood, collecting his chips, it seemed skill, moxie and luck were on his side this day.

It was not so for Jeffries, who again compared the game to war.

How long did he last?

"Not very," he reported.

He was not wearing his poker face anymore, and did not seem to be bluffing.