James DiGiorgio, a fixture of the Dallas mixed games scene known to fellow grinders as “Jimmy D” and, to some, as “Rocket Man,” has died at the age of 66 following a prolonged battle with pancreatic cancer. News of his death spread quickly through the Texas poker community in the final days of July, with longtime friends and regular opponents sharing memories of a player who mattered far more for his character than for his cashes.
A Car Salesman Who Loved the Felt
Away from the tables, DiGiorgio made his living as a used car salesman, a job that reportedly saw him appear in regional television advertisements and travel widely across the country moving vehicles. Those who knew him from the cardrooms said the same easy charm that made him effective in sales carried over to the poker table, where he was remembered as approachable, funny, and quick to make a session enjoyable regardless of how the cards fell.
DiGiorgio was not a touring professional chasing a Card Player Player of the Year title or a World Series of Poker bracelet. He was, by every account, a local grinder in the truest sense, a regular presence in Dallas cardrooms who built his reputation one session at a time rather than through deep runs on television. For readers newer to the game curious how those local scenes work and how cash and tournament formats differ, Poker Pro Academy’s how to play poker guide is a useful starting point.
The Origin of ‘Rocket Man’
Part of what made DiGiorgio memorable within his circle was his nickname. According to friends, fellow grinder Allen Kessler is credited with tagging him “Rocket Man” after DiGiorgio’s enthusiastic renditions of the Elton John classic at the table, a bit that stuck for years afterward. It is the kind of detail that rarely makes a tournament recap but says everything about why a player without a marquee résumé could still leave such a mark on a poker community.
One Cash, a Lifetime of Sessions
DiGiorgio’s formal tournament record is sparse. His only documented result in the Hendon Mob database is a 4th-place finish worth $10,294 at the 2019 West Texas Poker Championship Main Event. For a player who reportedly spent decades at the tables, that lone entry is a reminder of how much of poker’s culture and history lives outside of official cash lists, in mixed games, private sessions, and regional cardrooms that rarely draw a tournament reporter’s notice.
A Long Fight With Illness
DiGiorgio’s death followed a battle with pancreatic cancer that stretched on far longer than doctors initially expected. He was reportedly given a prognosis of 12 to 18 months to live at diagnosis, yet continued fighting for nearly three years afterward. Friends said he also found sobriety and a stronger sense of spirituality later in life, staying sober through his final five years, something several who knew him described as one of his proudest personal achievements, separate from anything he did with a deck of cards.
Tributes From the Texas Poker Community
Tributes poured in from players who crossed paths with DiGiorgio over the years. Fellow grinder Tim Frazin recalled the lighter side of playing with him, saying he could not remember a session with DiGiorgio where he did not say or do something that made the table laugh. Jim “Mississippi” Williams, another familiar name in the Texas scene, praised DiGiorgio’s compassion, particularly the way he showed up for people going through hard times.
Those recollections paint a consistent picture: a player who treated the game as a vehicle for connection first and competition second, someone who made cardrooms warmer places simply by being in them.
A Reminder of Poker’s Local Heroes
Stories like DiGiorgio’s rarely generate headlines the way a seven-figure tournament score does, but they are arguably just as central to what keeps poker rooms alive. Every cardroom has its own version of Jimmy D, a regular whose real currency is the relationships built across thousands of hours at the table rather than the size of any single cash. DiGiorgio’s passing is being felt most acutely in Dallas, but the sentiment behind the tributes, that a good table presence and a generous spirit can outlast any final table run, will resonate with grinders everywhere.
His preference for mixed games also says something about the kind of player he was. Rotations that move between hold’em, Omaha, stud, and draw variants tend to attract students of the game more than one-trick specialists chasing a single format’s biggest scores. Regulars in those games often know each other for years, sometimes decades, trading seats across the same handful of cardrooms long after any given tournament series has packed up and moved on. That kind of longevity, more than any bracelet or ring, is what people in Dallas say defined DiGiorgio’s time at the table.
Poker Pro Academy sends condolences to James DiGiorgio’s family, friends, and the Texas poker community mourning his loss. As always, we remind readers that poker should be played responsibly and is intended for adults aged 18 and over.
