Josh Arieh is a name that needs no introduction in the poker world. For years, he's been a standout presence at the table — describing himself as competitive, loud, sharp, and at times provocative. Yet, he’s also one of those who have undergone significant personal and gameplay transformation throughout their career.
In the latest episode of the Face the Ace podcast, Arieh and Remko Rinkema revisit the journey from being a young, confident gambler to a respected veteran who now measures his success not just by money, but through tranquility, family, and living in the moment.
The Main Event: A League of Its Own
This conversation happened during the late stages of the WSOP Main Event, and Arieh immediately explains why this tournament has no real competition in poker. He describes the Main Event as a “different animal” — a tournament where you feel the atmosphere, the media, the players' stories, and the gravity of each passing day. It’s not just another calendar event. It's where professionals, amateurs, dreams, pressure, and the notion that this deep run could be life-changing all converge.
Nowadays, Arieh appreciates these moments in a different way. When he was younger, he took deep runs almost for granted, but now realizes how rare it is to reach far in a tournament that's a lifelong dream for many. He used to think he would always come back to big spots but now speaks of gratitude, reminding himself during games how lucky he is to be comfortable in such an environment.
Unprepared for Poker Fame
Arieh first entered the broader poker consciousness when the game exploded on ESPN, and fame in poker could happen practically overnight. If you sat at the right table, people would remember you for years. He admits it was initially tough dealing with public perception. Never before had he so intensely read online forums, but after achieving great results, he suddenly found himself facing discussions about his demeanor, temperament, and table behavior. For someone who says he always wanted to be liked, it was a harsh reality check.
Arieh admits in the podcast that forum comments affected him. People called him a punk, a poor sportsman, or a disagreeable person, and he felt that the poker community despised him. Before his first trip to Borgata after this period, he feared he would face the same hatred in person. It was then he realized that the internet was much harsher than reality. Today, he understands that others’ opinions of him are filtered through their own perspectives, and it’s not his duty to control them.
When asked if his past table behavior was a defense mechanism, Arieh answers candidly: “It wasn’t. It was just me.” He grew up around pool tables, gambling, tough conversations, drugs, degenerates, and people who would quickly push you around if you didn’t show them you wouldn’t be pushed.
He shares that he was never the best baseball player, pool player, or the most naturally talented in any game. So, he built another weapon: competitiveness and pressure. He wanted his opponents to feel like they were playing against someone who didn’t just want to beat them, but make them suffer. Even today, he admits that fire still burns within him. The difference is that, at 51, he can control it much better.
A Fall That Didn’t Look Like One
On the surface, Arieh’s career post-initial success might have seemed stable. Results kept coming in, WSOP cashes accumulated, his name remained relevant, and the poker world continued to view him as a known figure. However, he describes a much different reality in the interview. He talks about being in a marriage he hated, staying only because of the children and the fear of what might happen if he left. Today, he calls it a poor decision that was destructive for himself, his ex-wife, and the family.
Alongside this came medication, stimulants, sleeping pills, and a life where results began to lose their importance. Arieh recounts taking Adderall daily alongside Ambien for sleep and considered it normal because it was doctor-prescribed. Yet in hindsight, he realizes he was in a bad place. Owning a bar in Atlanta meant he didn’t need to spend much and could earn enough to pretend everything worked. However, internally, it didn’t.
During this period, he played high-stakes casino limits, spent nights in penthouses at the Aria or Bellagio, and enjoyed the allure that came with being a prized casino player. On the surface, it appeared to be a poker boom dream. In reality, it was a setting where he could win or lose hundreds of thousands annually and used video poker as a way to switch off after days filled with social interaction. Sitting at a machine, smoking, drinking diet cola, and talking to no one became his escape.
Rachel, a Clear Head, and the Return of Competitiveness
The turning point in Arieh’s career and life arrived after his breakup and subsequent relationship with Rachel, whom he describes as the most positive person he knows. He attributes the change to a new life space, relationship, and a desire to be a better person for someone else. It's not a simple romantic cliché of love solving everything. Arieh speaks about clearing his mental space, wanting success again, and avoiding escapism through destructive habits. Suddenly, he noticed spots he had previously overlooked.
Simultaneously, he began to lean more on the best players around him. He mentions Daniel Negreanu, Shaun Deeb, Matt Glantz, Dan Weinman, and others with whom he regularly discusses poker. Arieh describes himself as trying to remain “the dumbest person in the room” to absorb as much as possible. A strong statement from someone once known for his self-confidence. This combination of a clearer head, better surroundings, and rediscovered competitive drive paved the way for his late-career resurgence.
Ironically, in 2020, Arieh was considering phasing out of poker. He took a job at PokerStake and envisioned gradually reducing his play, as modern poker demanded more study than he found natural. Then the 2021 WSOP arrived, bringing with it a completely new mental state. Arieh recounts experiencing a clarity he hadn’t felt for years. He was content wherever he sat. And the results followed immediately: bracelets, Player of the Year, and a return to being a force in every WSOP event.
The following year proved it wasn’t just a flash in the pan. In 2022, he made back-to-back final tables in $25K events and won over a million dollars at the start of the WSOP. Arieh claims his motivation isn’t purely financial. He doesn’t need a bigger house, a fancier car, or a more luxurious status. His happy place is the WSOP final table because he knows it brings joy to his wife, family, friends, and people who have watched him for decades.
$50K PPC and the Joy of Fighting in the Mud
A major topic of discussion is the $50K Poker Players Championship, an event with a special place in Arieh’s heart. He has multiple deep runs and two runner-up finishes, but insists he doesn't dwell on “what ifs.” What's more important to him is the journey. In these tournaments, he feels he brings everything he has to the table, which allows him to accept any outcome. He describes the PPC as a different kind of fun: not easygoing, social, and relaxed, but hard, gritty, and akin to the joy of battling against the world’s best players.
His metaphor is accurate — likening it to a boxer after ten rounds of a tough fight who, despite the pain, declares, “This is my party.” It's not a cheap tournament full of chatter and laughter, but an arena where you face off against Benny Glaser, Yuri, Shaun Deeb, Daniel Negreanu, and other players who force you to dig deep. Arieh wants to feel the pain and inflict it. He wants to be in the heat of battle. And even without the title, the way he speaks about these events shows that for him, respect for the struggle often outweighs the mere tally in a resume.
Why He Never Fully Dived into Bobby’s Room
The contrast shows up when asked why, despite his mixed game talent and results in the $50K PPC, Arieh never became a regular in the biggest cash games in Bobby’s Room. His answer is refreshingly honest. He says that in that room, he wouldn’t feel like the best player. With names like Jason Mercier, Brian Rast, or David Oppenheim, he’d feel like a “fish,” and he doesn’t like that feeling. Arieh wants to be in an arena where he believes he’s the best or at least that he has a real edge.
The second part is even more open — he simply doesn't enjoy cash games much. He claims that cash games bore him unless he is playing higher than he comfortably can. And if he’s playing higher than he can afford, while exciting, it’s clearly not healthy. Thus, he sticks to tournaments, where the mix of competition, pressure, story, and final goal makes more sense to him.
Boom Years: When Money Rained from the Sky
Remko also revisits an era many younger poker fans didn’t experience. Arieh describes times when poker websites paid hundreds of thousands just for a patch on the Main Event final table. Not for a year-long ambassador contract, not for extensive media obligations, just a logo on a shirt at the right moment. These were years when agents roamed the halls, companies battled for players, and money seemed almost infinite. Arieh was part of this era through Bodog and experienced moments that would seem unimaginable to today’s players.
Yet, he doesn’t romanticize the entire picture. He talks about clubs, trips, and things he’s not proud of today. He remembers wild golf bets, gambling around Eric Lindgren or Doyle Brunson, and a time when $50,000 per hole sounded absurd even to him, despite living in an environment where large sums were everyday reality. The young Arieh, by his own admission, took many things for granted. Today, he views them with a completely different perspective—not with moralizing, but with the knowledge that quick success and quick money aren’t always the best combination for someone still figuring out who they are.
If there is one main takeaway from the conversation, it’s Arieh’s willingness to change. Once, he was a player who believed he was automatically among the best. Today, he says it’s okay to be fallible, to lose, and to ask questions. It’s these losses that drive him to adjust his theory, gameplay, and approach. It's not a simple story of old school defeating young solver players. It’s more about a veteran who realized that to survive in the modern game, he must learn from those around him, ask questions, and sometimes admit that someone else sees the spot better.
Sources – YouTube, Flickr/PSlive, Flickr/WPT, TightPoker
