I haven’t written in a bit.

I learned a new word this winter.

The word is GLIOBLASTOMA which Wikipedia will tell you is “the most aggressive type of cancer that originates in the brain and has a very poor prognosis for survival.”

I learned that word because my business partner of 37 years had it.

She died last Sunday.

I would rather have learned the word PETRICHOR (the pleasant smell that accompanies the first rain after a long dry spell) or CALLIPYGIAN (having a well-shaped buttocks) but no, I learned the word GLIOBLASTOMA instead.

If cancer is a stealth bomber, sometimes deadly, sometimes vincible, sometimes missing it’s mark completely, a Glioblastoma is a nuclear warhead insistently and mercilessly obliterating everything in its path. It’s the Michael Jordan of cancers – only there can be no debate in this case about who is the GOAT.

I can tell you this, the human race lost one of its most valuable players last week.

She fought valiantly but it was like throwing Simone Biles in the ring with Mike Tyson. The ending was inevitable and not a lot of fun to watch.

These sports analogies would mean nothing to Penny. She didn’t waste her time on things like sports. In fact, she didn’t waste her time. Period.

Penny Noble was a tireless overachiever, a philanthropist, a creator, an entrepreneur, a collaborator, a glass ceiling breaker, and one helluva talent agent.

A feminist without a label, Penny simply refused to fly in formation. She made her own rules and then lived by them. And she took shit from no one.

She was also the most beautiful mom to her two incredible girls Gigi and Gemma who – no surprise – have grown into mature, ambitious, and confident young women.

Statuesque and confident, you knew from the minute you met Penny that she’d succeed at anything she tried. And she did.

To her clients, Penny was a confidante, a shoulder to cry on, a champion, a fighter, and when at war, she’s the one person you’d want in the bunker with you. When Penny Noble believed in you, you believed in yourself. Simple as that.

And while she soared with the eagles, she always looked out for the little guy, attacking injustices wherever and whenever they crossed her path. She had zero tolerance for prejudice or discrimination of any kind. I always loved that about her.

I learned a lot from Penny. She was a shrewd negotiator, she knew when to be the aggressor and when to acquiesce to make the deal. She’d have been a great poker player.

I could not possibly have asked for a better role model, mentor, or friend and I will miss her every single day forever. And I mean that.

I know that she would have no problem with me heading off to Las Vegas for The World Series of Poker so soon after her passing. As serious as Penny was about the business grindstone, she was every bit as serious about living your best life, seeing the world, following your dreams, and keeping your priorities straight.

So, I leave tonight, and I’ll be hard at the tables starting tomorrow morning. Hopefully I’ll have something to write about over the next few days.

I’m not going to say that I dedicate any success I may have to Penny because… well, I might not have any, and how would that look? But I’ll think about her a lot while I’m there, and maybe just maybe when I’m facing an opponent’s all-in bet and I have to decide whether to make a “hero call” or fold and live to fight another day, I might just have to ask myself … “what would Penny do?”

RIP Penny.