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Sunday, October 14, 2007 

The Final Table

I am publishing this today, February 27th, but in truth it was written many moons ago....in fact five moons, two eclipses and one earthquake to be precise...

October 13th
I arrived in Vegas on July 1st, the day the smoking ban came into effect in England. It seemed a good day to quit. There have been many such days since that first dizzying Marlboro in 1983 - back in Vegas I lasted a mere eleven days - the Black Spot had been served and for the second year running I was bumming a guiltless cigarette in the 100 degree heat. That cigarette cost me $10,000 - it tasted good.

Right now here on my monthly birthday - the 13th - I have been trying unsuccessfully to do two things at once - watching a movie while writing. The movie in question, Con-Air gets me every time - Nicholas Cage's finest hour - and seemed doubly appropriate as the jet lands on the strip, takes out the Sands Casino and triggers triple-seven on the slots. Vegas has been in the air tonight - Parkinson was interviewing Ricky Hatton, who will head to Vegas to fight Floyd Mayweather on December 8th (his 3rd visit this year which leads me to pin unsubstantiated hope on next year's attempt at the world title). The last guest was a rare television gem as Paul Anka sang a tribute to Parky, after several anecdotes involving Elvis, Sammy Davis Jnr and most memorably Sinatra, losing his teeth to a mobster in the Sands, drunk and deservedly.

Back in Vegas in July, I also quit shaving, the intention being to emerge clean-shaven when I reached the Final table and unsettle competitors, commentators and compatriots alike. Several rationalizations later I decided that I could keep the burgeoning beard until I did reach the Final table, which naturally enough I presumed to be some time in July 2008 in the Nevada desert. Well I did reach my first final table last week at my local Monday poker game, albeit short-stacked along with eight others with only the top five getting paid. (I busted out first and fast after pushing all-in with a pair of sevens from the small-blind after two late-position limpers, one of whom turned out to have two queens - I ended up in a loose Omaha cash-game, earning a much needed 300 quid, since exchanged for a dishwasher and a book on fairies).

But the real Final Table came late last night. I started the day with just under $900 in my online account - by sundown it was down to $400, and by sunrise I had leveled the playing field - zero, nada, fanny adams, but you know what, sweet fanny adams. Blessed relief finally. Since coming back from Vegas I have played and overplayed that account, Initially taking my $600 quickly to $4,000 and then up and down, one time investing a further $400 - hardly ever getting back over a $1,000, not playing great, not being particularly lucky - in fact it bores me even to talk poker anymore. What the hell have I been doing pissing dollars up and down the 50-cent Omaha wall when I have books to write, games to invent, a woman to love, children to care for? Did you know poker is the death of love? Just the very name itself - "poke her" says it all. Take bridge however and you have the essence of love - cherish your partner is the first and last, the key to successful and fulfilling bridge - the name again says it all. How many marriages have lost their bridge, how many relationships have burnt their bridges? Love is that bridge. I should know - why do you think I'm sitting writing this on the fucking sofa, my bed, when my love lies naked upstairs, awake, desirous only of her own space. Failure to cherish - don't do it. To be fair poker is not the cause, merely the symptom. I made the decision last night (nearly overturned today) that I would not be reloading my account, hence the Final Table. I have reached my Final Table and so today I have shaved off the beard. Blessed relief.

Tomorrow at 8 p.m. I will be playing an online poker tournament however - luckily it costs me nothing more than a few words: it is a bloggers' freeroll on pokerstars. So to that effect I have kept a 'tash and a mini-muff (a small triangle of hair below the lip). The jury is out on the 'tash - slightly YMCA perhaps - I guess you'll be wanting a photo. It has been a big day - England creamed the Estonians 3-0, no great shakes, and I watched my second game of rugby, the final, in four years, shakes. Football needs to make itself more exciting methinks. But bigger than all of this I have set out on my path, both inner - I think I can save the 'marriage' and outer - I think I can publish my way to fame and fortune. So welcome back my friends, my readers, my future......and I've been free of the weed for over two weeks now - it tastes good. Our future's bright.

And that was then....
So what of now, today? Has the future been orange or nicotine-stained yellow?

I have just experienced my first earthquake - you'll know more about it than I do by the time you read this. After a quick consultation of Wikipedia I am guessing 3.3 according to Richter, but what do I know? I live in a big solid stone farm house and the whole deal was moving. I was scared, genuinely so and was shaking for a good deal longer than the house. Searching for doorways to hide in, my foundations were more than just literally disturbed. A brief end of the world moment, I guess not aided by zombies in the pub as Shaun of the Dead replayed on Tv2. The porno version, Dawn of the Shed, has proved a big hit in allotments across the nation (sorry - my dad's joke). So back to earthquakes - my brother 200 miles south in London also felt it going on, which I guess for us little Englanders makes it a big deal.

(Footnote: It turns out it was 4.7 based in Loughborough....come friendly bombs....)

So what of love, life and poker? Has the marriage been saved? Has the bankroll been salvaged? Well I had my chance with the lady in question, Max's mum - a few second chances at that and the good news is I'm no longer on the sofa. The bad news is I'm no longer in the county, let alone the house, but the lining is silver, and although the earth moved for a while, the earth also moves on..... at around 800 miles an hour here in Yorkshire. Closure is a marvellous thing. Over. Finito. Forever. Thank you and goodnight (on my own).

And poker? Naturally I couldn't leave it there - I had to beat the game. To walk away a loser....I still have my pride and over the last few months I've cashed out my Vegas 10K back and the expenses too I guess. Three weeks ago, the weekend before Lent, I blew my bankroll, with some relief (more on that strange psychonomy another time), and have left the online game alone now for three weeks and intend to continue that way at least for Lent. I have played twice in the Cotswolds and found the game mind-numbingly slow. Looking further afield I have my eyes set on Vegas but can not justify spending my own ten large this year so am looking for ways and means. I have had some generous offers of sponsorship and have an avenue or two more to pursue. Your suggestions are most welcome as is your hard currency....

Anyway enough for now...thank you Matt for chivying me to write more, I will be back before the end of the month. I will just tell you about the Lord's rake and how it nearly claimed me last Friday somewhere west of Windermere in fact....high on Scafell, I had assured my two friends that the path was to the right. Uncertain, they followed me past the remains of someone's map to a scree slope of absurd steepness. The wind was vicious, visibility more so as the first twinges of regret assailed my purpose. It took little persuasion, and a hard rock to the shins to force a retreat back down, only to discover from a fellow-group of much better-equipped fools that we had nearly been claimed by the Lord's Rake, the fuckin' rake, no longer the recommended route. Reminded of Rounders I remembered Worm's observation: "I guess the sayings' true. In the poker game of life, women are the rake man. They are the fuckin' rake. " You will be glad to know I haven't yet got that cynical, and am lining up married women like Cumbrian peaks (just one at a time that is). We finished our stroll across the nation's highest hill a nano-second before darkness enveloped us, soaked to the skin by horizontal hail and bottomless bogs, 50 miles from our car......we had taken a wrong turning or two which felt oh-so right, as our bus, then our taxi and finally our feet delivered us back, a 100 quid and two hours poorer, smiling to our cars. I resolved to be better equipped next time.

2:05 AM | Permalink |

Wednesday, October 10, 2007 

I didn't notice you under the table

Many thanks to Nicholas Jones for the following.....

Two couples were playing poker one evening: Jim accidentally dropped some cards on the floor. When he bent down under the table to pick them up, he noticed Bob's wife, Sue wasn't wearing any underwear under her dress! Shocked by this, Jim upon trying to sit back up again, hit his head on the table and emerged red-faced. Later, Jim went to the kitchen to get some refreshments. Bob's wife followed and asked, "Did you see anything that you like under there?" Surprised by her boldness, Jim admitted that, well indeed he did. She said, "Well, you can have it but it will cost you $500." After taking a minute or two to assess the financial and moral costs of this offer, Jim confirms that he is interested. Sue told him that since her husband Bob worked Friday afternoons and Jim didn't, Jim should be at her house around 2 p.m. Friday afternoon. When Friday rolled around, Jim showed up at Bob's house at 2 p.m. sharp - and after paying Sue the agreed sum of $500 - they went to the bedroom and closed their transaction, as agreed. Jim quickly dressed and left. As usual, Bob came home from work at 6 p.m. And upon arriving, asked his wife: "Did Jim come by the house this afternoon?" With a lump in her throat Sue answered "Why yes, he did stop by for a few minutes this afternoon." Her heart nearly skipped a beat when her husband curtly asked, "And did he give you $500?" Sue, using her best poker face, replied, "Well, yes, in fact he did give me $500." Bob, with a satisfied look on his face, surprised his wife by saying, "He came by the office this morning and borrowed $500 from me. He promised he'd stop by our house this afternoon on his way home and pay me back." Now THAT, my friends, is a poker player!

6:00 PM | Permalink |