Born 30 something years ago into a card-playing clan in the North of England: the low-roller's poker odyssey has taken him from the school common-room via down-trodden Midlands' casinos, smoky Cotswolds pubs, celebrity Soho drinking spots and of course the ubiquitous world of cyberspace to the home of poker itself, Las Vegas. Join his search for juicy take-downs, great pot odds and the occasional back-door straight as he goes for glory.
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Friday, July 13, 2007
Dawn Two Days Later...
I have been on something of a bender, although not in the great tradition of Mr Duke and Dr Bonzo. My bender has been fuelled merely by camel filters, the deserts of the Sahara and some great company. Two days ago I descended into the poker den of Circus Circus for a barren nine hours of folding 6-3 offsuit perpetually before taking the hint and decamping to the Sahara 11 p.m poker tournament where I made it to the last two tables before I got trapped into offloading my 52,000 hard-earned chips to Ohio Brian when he limped for 4,000 with his pocket rockets under the gun and I decided that with my pocket 10s it would be an appropriate time to raise it up large - bad move. Nice Brian naturally reraised me the other half of my stack and I elected to go with it for a fast exit hoping to see the Big Slick or a small pair (Ace-King) against which I would have been a favourite. In retrospect slightly naive. As usual after a poker fuck-up the only remedy is to play more poker to replace the memory of that fateful hand with something better. Poker memory is no different from any other memory - it has an inbuilt tendency to fade into a haze. Anyway to trim this long story shorter, I proceeded to spend the next 8 hours (I had spent four financially fruitless hours finishing out of the money in the tournament) playing in a very lively cash game with a Kiwi, a Swiss, a Dane, a Philipino, a Dutchman and an assortment of Yankee dealers which ranks as one of my most enjoyable sessions ever at a mere cost of $7. I made one horrendous mistake when I donated $150 to Jacob the Dane, but otherwise it was a cracker. I stopped to enter the 11 a.m. tournament where again I made one costly error with three tables to go. Annoying Oklahoma dude had told me that he had a premonition that I was going to wipe him out and I failed to take the opportunity: with huge blinds he ha raised half his 20,000 stack and I failed to get involved with King-Queen of clubs, choosing to fold instead (when he mucked his hand I noticed a small card, suggesting he had made the bet with a pocket pair - the card looked like a six, against which it would have been a 50-50 chance of doubling my stack. More fool me as my cards and my chip-stack dwindled to leave me exiting with two tables to go and no pay-out. The remedy? Five more hours of cash-game with some hustling Germans and some amusing Americans, before entering the 7 p.m tournament, where again I failed to deliver with one or two cotly errors (all I need to do is sit on my hands, request more time and give the matter much more thought. The remedy however was still the same - more poker in the cash-game before another crack at the 11 p.m. tournament, in which I had a swift exit at the hands of pocket rockets again. I adopted the same solution as before and played more cash-game, which took me to four in the morning. So a 42 hour poker session has ended. I am bushed, almost falling asleep at this wheel as I climb into a grateful bed. I did in fact play my best poker in that sleepless zombie haze at the very end of my forty-four hour marathon. As I exited the building i was engaged by Sonny the Indian, who invited me to lunch tomorrow with his Dad, for which I will need to get some necessary sleep as it is now seven in the rather cool morning wake-up of Las Vegas. The people have been great - this has to be the friendliset nation of people in the Northern hemisphere. As our no-limit table disbanded, I nearly went in search of another game, but decided that lunch with the Indian colonel would only be possible if were to have a good chunk of sleep. So goodnight to you, as another scorcher rises to replace the cool morning breeze of Vegas on the 13th, and the good news is I may have found that publisher - many thanks to you Jagdish. Meetings will be arranged, titles suggested, and soon the essential ingtedient, words, will be organised into a coherent whole, not to mention the cash advance.....
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