![]() Now he was being told to get his affairs in order. His brother had recently passed away from cancer. It had progressed upwards from the neck to Brunson’s brain, and downwards too. The cancer was advanced, frighteningly so. “He said melanoma is like a black corruption. “I can never forget the words,” Brunson said. Eight hours of surgery later, they thought differently. Doctors told him it would need to come out and that it shouldn’t be a problem. He chose the life of a grinder over the life of a salesman. The two were married in August of that year and Brunson was already playing poker for a living around Texas, having left his job selling business machines behind when he cleaned out his colleagues for more than a month’s salary in a seven-card stud game in one night. It was 1962 and Brunson was living in Fort Worth, Texas with his wife, Louise, who was three months pregnant with the couple’s first child. Doyle Brunson was 29 years old when doctors told him he had three months to live.
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