"SNOOPY SYSTEM"

PHOENIX FROM THE FLAMES

2009-06-07T00:03:00.000-07:00

For Vegas only, my blog has been resurrected and can be found here:

http://www.blackbeltpoker.com/Community/Blogs/blogs.aspx

We don't yet have a comments area in blogs, but please feel free to post on my board. Vanity is a sin, but it's nice to know that people are reading.

THE END

2008-06-29T01:33:00.000-07:00

Days 29 & 30…

This is the end
Beautiful friend
This is the end
My only friend, the end

Another year, another World Series, yes, I’ve come to the end of my Vegas tenure and now write to you from the comfort of my own upright British chair.

Expensive prices, claustrophobic surroundings, jocks whooping on the craps tables, male strippers in bow ties, gaudy burlesque shows, loud music, and a ghastly car that hovers above while some skank throws beads down – if I could imagine a run in hell, a month of the Rio would be at the forefront of my mind. So, for the last two days, Dana and I decided to escape the confines of our prison and move into the New York New York Hotel down the road.

Sandwiched between the Excalibur and MGM casinos, the New York New York (I’m already tiring of typing that twice) was surprisingly pleasant and boasted a serenity that the Rio sorely lacked. Of course, the forced theme was inevitably gaudy at times (one sign reads ‘Authentic New York Pizza’), but it presents everything in a less ‘in-your-face’ manner, meaning that if need be, you can escape to a far corner for a moment’s peace.

The view from the bedroom window was incredible, if a little different to that of the Rio, in that it boasted the majority of the rollercoaster. The muffled screams were reminiscent of a game of Rollercoaster Tycoon on the PC, and every time they sounded I would peer out the window to confirm that this was indeed real life. That’s when I notice the Statue of Liberty staring back at me.

Now I’m back in Birmingham, I’m finding it hard to adjust. After becoming accustomed to heading down the Rio of a day, working long hours and hitting the sack unconscious, the pace here seems incredibly slow and part of me is itching to get back in the game. I’m sure those feelings will expire when I start covering UK events again, but whilst the Series is still running, I can’t help but feel as though I’m missing out.

The jet lag upon return has been tough to handle. I tried to watch Mongol with Dana yesterday, but passed out about half way through. It was only five o’clock. I recall it took me about a fortnight to recover a couple of years back, but I hope it doesn’t take that long this time. I have lots I want to do, and I can’t afford to waste time feeling sleepy during daylight hours.

I’ve been trying to work out a suitable way of finishing my WSOP account, and concluded that it would be best to compare it to my previous visits. Well, apart from a few minor changes, the experience was pretty much the same. A big giant room with lots of poker – that really is about the size of it. You might witness a few differences, such as the heightened organisation, the eradication of the tent, a few new stalls and so on, but who cares, poker is about the characters, and as always, they remain the same. Scotty still says “baby”, Doyle still hobbles around, Sklansky still accompanies a random teenage girl, Phil Ivey still puts more than first prize on the game on the plasma screen, Mike Matusow is still centre of attention, Phil He11muth is still a twit, Erick Lindgren is still a smug git, Gus Hansen is still a ladies’ man, Bill Chen is still a nerd, Jennifer Tilly is still sizzling hot, TJ Cloutier is still losing a fortune at craps, Howard Lederer is still huge, Dutch Boyd is still speaking to the voices in his head, Roland de Wolfe is still wearing the ghastliest of shirts, Patrik Antonius still boasts the chiselled features of a Michaelangelo masterpiece, Greg Raymer still dons shorts, sandals and white socks, Marcel Luske is still stark raving mad, Davood Mehmrand is still psychotic, Freddy Deeb is still knee high to an oompa loompa, Andy Black still looks like he just got out of bed, Devilfish is still dressing like a teenager, Chris Ferguson is still the carrot-chopping messiah, Allen Cunningham is still unbeatable, Todd Brunson still looks like a pony from the back, Dave Singer is still a pain in the ass and the Brits still suck at poker.

Unless Doyle finally pops his clogs within the next twelve months, WSOP 2009 will be exactly the same… but that’s why we love it so.

I hope you enjoyed my WSOP blog, it sure was tough to maintain, so much in fact that I think I need a rest. I don’t know when I’ll post on the blog again, if at all. Writing a blog can be time-consuming at times, and I’m wondering if maybe this should be my last post. I’ve always tried to bring my readers an honest account of all things poker related, whether that be Vegas, my travels around Europe, or my own personal experience with a game that deals out so many beats. I’ve done this without shoving banners, advertising or anything commercial down your face because the pure essence of poker is important to me. Although we embrace the poker boom, we also need to keep a hold of the reality… It’s just a game of cards.

See you around.

ONE FOR THE ROAD

2008-06-28T09:56:00.000-07:00

Day 28...

It‘s strange when you’ve worked for a month in the Rio and it suddenly ends. You become so accustomed to the Amazon Room that it becomes a home of sorts, somewhere you belong and feel comfortable. What’s more, it’s hard to switch off, to stop thinking about the game. For the past four weeks, my head has been polluted with poker, and I think it’s going to take a while before it begins to heel.

With our final day being the Sunday, we had just two days of free time in Vegas before heading back on Wednesday morning. It was Dana’s birthday on the Monday and I tried all week to get her tickets for the Penn and Teller Show on either Monday or Tuesday. Everyday I would approach the ticket machine and each time was told that tickets were unavailable for these days. I took this as meaning that the tickets weren’t on sale yet, especially as they presented it as a selectable date on the calendar, but it was simply that these were the days of the week that Penn and Teller didn’t work. I don’t know who sod is and how he got into politics, but I hate the fucker.

Nevertheless, Dana celebrated her birthday at the steakhouse in New York New York, eating steaks bigger than her head (that’s pretty big) before heading to the Voodoo Lounge where she drank a cocktail that was bigger than Hellmuth’s head (that’s even bigger). I’ve blogged about the Voodoo Lounge before, but must repeat that the view is excellent and worth the entry fee alone. Sadly, the bar fees are negative ev and I nearly fainted when I received no change for ten bucks after ordering a vodka and coke. I think I stood their waiting for a good few minutes before realising.

Afterwards, we headed down to Spearmint Rhino with Kara Scott, Nick Wetherall, ‘McLovin’ Gary Clark, Danny Ryan Jen and Rod and Marc Convey. McLovin in particular appeared pretty uncomfortable with the idea, and didn’t appreciate it when Dana encouraged a stripper to sit on his lap. Although McLovin was stubborn in his refusal, his pleas seemed to fall on stony ground as the stripper refused to move. After the umpteenth request, she did alight from his lap, but called him “lame” as she departed. I thought that was a bit rude and actually felt sorry for McLovin.

I was equally as uneasy with my surroundings as McLovin and made my exit shortly after arriving. I’ve been to a number of strip clubs before, Seamless was a frequent venue of choice during 2007, but just didn’t feel comfortable being in a strip club with my girlfriend. Not sure why, and I daren’t delve deeper into the reasons.

I was ill during the night and threw my guts up a couple of times, which was odd as I’d only had one drink all night. I hoped that it was something I ate, because if it wasn’t, then I fear my long hours, unhealthy diet and stress of trying to juggle multiple have finally caught up with me. There are a lot of people trying to make a living our of poker journalism. Whilst many of them are lazy fuckers, a handful are some of the hardest working people you will ever meet, so hard-working in fact that sometimes they forget to look after themselves. I think that may have happened to me.

TOO MUCH FLACK

2008-06-27T02:30:00.000-07:00

Day 27…

Thankfully, poker is a game of hope, of clasping your hands together, praying to the poker gods and knowing that it any one given hand, one player can get aces, and the other kings. Sadly, I still think these buggers would have checked it down.

Yes, as I covered my final day of this year’s World Series, the two remaining players in the $2,500 Six-Handed No Limit Hold’Em Freezeout would ensure that my swan song was a gruelling affair, and one that would take longer than ten consecutive performances of the Miserables.

It didn’t start off too well, our plucky Brits displaying a low level of pluckiness to become the first two players to walk the plank, Ben Roberts failing to improve his shortstack whilst a disgruntled Michael Greco encountered a cooler best suited for your fridge freezer than the poker table.

But little did we know that after whittling the field down to just Davidi Kitai and Chris Bell (thankfully simple names to write), it would take a further six days to find our winner. It was check galore as few hands were raised preflop, no reraise bluffs were made along the streets and if someone dared to bet out, the other chap would cower in the corner like a eunuch in the locker room.

Although it was a dull affair, it was an affair for much money and prestige nonetheless, and the players had a right to tread with as much caution as their heart desired. What they didn’t have to be subjected to, however, was heckling from the crowd that came in the form of Gavin Smith, Layne Flack and co. I think the interest lied in that Erick Lingren had a percentage of Chris Bell, but either way, the pros were in full force to add a slice of familiarity to the stands.

I’m guessing he has some kind of attention disorder, because Layne Flack has to be one of the biggest “look at me” merchants in poker. At every opportunity, he opted to shout out random shit, whether it be towards the players, the announcer or whoever, he sought the need to make sure his voice was heard. Meanwhile, he would pay no attention to the game itself, his disrespect going as far as taking out a pack of cards and playing Chinese Poker with his buddies, one of whom was Joseph Tehan. At one point, the camera panned down on Tehan playing cards, which led to Gavin Smith commenting out loud, “Hey Chris, they’re having to put the camera on us because you guys are so boring.” To me, that’s just rude. If you don’t like it, why don’t you just fuck off?

Our eventual winner was Davidi Kitai. Shaking hands rather than over-celebrating seems to be a thing of the past these days, but either way, Kitai was elated with his victory and received a group hug from the ensuing Frenchmen who invaded the stage. The “Davidi” chants continued right up to the receiving of the bracelet where the Belgian raised his bling aloft, the smile on Benjo’s face a mile wide as he applauded the first ever Winamax WSOP champion.

Prior to his winning hand, I heard calls of “Un fois” (“one time” for those who skipped their French GCSE), which reminded me of day two’s penultimate hand where Kitai had won a coinflip for his tournament life. He called “un fois” then, so I wondered how many “un fois”s it was possible to have in one tournament. Was that even his first “un fois”, or had he belted out the command numerous times throughout the day? His second “un fois” seemed to be equally effective, even though it was logically incorrect, yet he was rewarded anyhow. Was he in league with the poker gods, did they owe him multiple favours, or maybe, just maybe, do they not exist? I severely hope it’s not the latter as I’ve been mentioning them in updates as if they were my next door neighbours.

Back online, xdragon had finally disappeared, an impostor going under the cunning pseudonym xxdragon silencing our foe with shoutbox comments such as “I will not be a jerk any more” and “I will stop being rude to the updaters”. These more than made my day and I could almost picture the so-far unmet xdragon squirming in his seat. It doesn’t take much to please me though, just the completion of a marathon heads up encounter and the silencing of three bell ends, two in the stands and one on the net. Sadly, the ones in the stands were allowed to continue, but I guess that’s the elitism of poker – if you’re famous, you can do and say whatever you want.

THE BEPPE CHARM

2008-06-24T16:38:00.000-07:00

Day 25...

Damn, accidentally deleted my word doc. I can assure you it was highly fascinating though.

Day 26…

The start of the day commenced with profanities from Michael Greco as the former soap star was told that he wouldn’t be allowed to play due to having no ID. He had credit card, player’s card, bus pass, Eastender’s reunion tickets but no picture ID, and thus was told to fuck off. “That’s bullshit,” said Greco politely. “I made a genuine mistake. I’m going to get blinded away,” he continued. “All the players know me, the press know me, can’t you let me play?”

Although his pleas initially fell on stony ground (the supervisor had clearly had a bad week and wanted to fuck someone over), the Gecko spotted another supervisor across the other side of the room who was… drum roll please… female.

Moments later, and Michael was back at the table and ready for action, ID-less, yet comforted by his ability to charm a rabid wolverine into submission. He may no longer be frequenting our screens three times a week, or donning the front page as the latest subject of tabloid cannon fodder, but when it comes to the ladies, the old boy’s still got it. (38, by the way, they announced it on the final.)

Sushi Heaven

I’m not sure how many people know about this, but hidden away in a corner is an all you can eat sushi. For $30 you can consume as much sushi as your stomach can take. One tip though, if you’re going during the dinner break, order all the food at once. When we sat down, the place filled up, and it took ages for our second and third order to arrive. By the time we’d left, we’d been there for 1hr15mins. Nonetheless, they cook it fresh, and it tastes excellent. What really baffles me is how sushi in the middle of the desert can be fresher than the kind you find in London just a 50 miles from the sea.

In other news, I finally found the secret loo that Pauly of Tao of Poker had been using. Damn it, I’m 26 days too late.

FFS, TYVM

As the ten remaining players in the $2,000 Pot Limit Hold’Em Freezeout slimmed to one table, we only had one more to go and were hoping for an early finish Over two hours later and we were still there, the shortstack clinging on with the stubbornness of a resistant cat on his way to the veterinary.

Another reason for the delay was Robert Cheung, and according to Ben Roberts, Ayaz Mahmood was responsible too. With Benjamin Zamani raising it up preflop, Cheung came over the top only for a short-stacked Keith Greer to push in for a few dollars more. Ayaz Mahmood and Zamani both called, only for Cheung to push all in and isolate. With the other players getting out of the way, Greer showed queens (ok, fair enough) and Cheung K-Q (yep, okay… no, hold on, WTF!!!).

The rest of the table were understandably up in arms, and even a random member shouted out ‘what an idiot’ (how he wasn’t escorted out, I’ll never know). Of course, the queens stood up, and Cheung received a hammering from Mahmood who had folded kings (WTF again!!!). Fellow shortstacks Davidi Kitai and Michael Greco looked at each other in dismay whilst the press sighed at the prospect of another hour of ten-handed play.

However, I can’t complain too loudly, as come the final day, Cheung handed us a bag full of sugary goodies to thank us for adding him to the chip counts. Whether it makes up for keeping us behind for longer than we needed to be, I’ve yet to decide.

Who?

Anyone ever heard of a female player called Cycalona? How about if I added the name Gowen? Yep, according to the player list, that’s Clonie Gowen’s full name. Where that comes from, I’ve no idea. It’s certainly not Brummie.

A NEED FOR SPEED

2008-06-22T14:46:00.000-07:00

Day 23…

The final of the 6-handed was a mixed bag, fast paced early doors but tortoise slow three-handed. We were treated to an array of bad beats, outdraws and general up the bum hole penetration, although no player in particular directed their protruding rod.

The most eye-brow raising beats cropped up with three left. With Justin Filtz and Seth Fischer going raise crazy, the latter saw his A-K flop a king and turn a third against Filtz’s aces. Security required a crowbar to remove Filtz’s stunned carcass from the stage floor, but they eventually scooped him up.

Heads up, it was Dario Minieri’s turn to deal the suckout blow, his 4-3 (oops) all in against Fischer’s kings hitting two fours on the end to stay alive, and eventually take the title. In fact, looking back, Fischer should have been third, Minieri second and the poker gods first, although I’m not sure how multiple winners, or divine beings for that matter would share a bracelet.

One aspect that amused me during this three-handed affair was when the boisterous Italian fans on the rail started complaining to the tournament director of collusion between the other two players. The very next hand, Fischer eliminated Filtz. The Italians didn’t complain after that. I suppose it’s such a shock when it’s not going Dario’s way that someone must be cheating somewhere, surely?

Whist dashing back and forth to the loo during the breaks, I bumped into a number of new faces. Many of them were Brits, so it seems as though we’re starting to make our presence felt over here. Mickey Wernick, Kevin O’Leary, Craig Wildman, Paul Jackson, Simon Trumper, Michael Greco, Joe Beevers – all turned up in recent days.

Day 24….

Woohoo, day-off! The only problem with our day off is that we’re so tired from updating an event that we end up sleeping through the afternoon, which isn’t the best preparation when you have to get up at 10.30am the next morning. You need two days off really otherwise you just can’t adapt to any kind of sleeping cycle.

Anyhow, we did manage to rise at a semi-decent hour and get ourselves down to the Sahara to have a stab at the Speed rollercoaster. I was quite surprised, although it’s in a less affable area of the Strip, the Sahara isn’t too bad, and would probably be one of the best value hotels to stay in if you were searching for something cheap.

What strikes me as bizarre about the Sahara is how Nascar Racing can possibly fit into the Egyptian desert theme, but I guess money talks in Vegas and the price was right. Either way, it’s allowed them to stick a racing car theme onto the back of the casino where this Speed ride is, and Dana and I, being the speed junkies that we are, couldn’t resist giving it a bash.

After the soiling experience of the Big Shot at the Stratosphere, I thought I was prepared for anything, but little did I know that during mid conversation about whether or not my harness was secure, the roller coaster car would shoot off without warning at a squillion miles per hour.

Twists, turns and loops later and we were heading back, this time in reverse after reaching the end of the track. Surely that’s just laziness on their part to send you back the way you came instead of completing the track, but I guess it saves them a few bucks.

Although the reverse journey made me want to throw up bile onto the people in front, the ride as a whole was very entertaining, if brief, and just as fun-filled as the Big Shot and the New York New York rollercoaster. If I had to pick one though, it would probably be the Big Shot, if only for it’s sheer scare factor.

The Sahara was just the start of a casino crawl. On our day off we also visited the Wynn, Treasure Island, Mirage and Flamingo casinos, the latter of which advertised ‘burlesque dancers’ which involved two skanks pole dancing, before finally setting up camp in the lesser known Bill’s Gamblin Hall & Saloon.

We stopped here because there was a poker game going, albeit in the world’s smallest cadroom (it has space for two tables). Sadly, I lost $238, but Dana managed to get her big hands paid off a couple of times and left with $120. Not great, but could be worse, I haven’t told her yet, but Dana and I have a joint account when it comes to poker and er… me losing.

"YOU CAN'T AFFORD ME"

2008-06-20T16:44:00.000-07:00

Day 21…

Oh, Almost Forgot

The achievements of Samuel Singer captivated me so much that I forgot to report that I played my first hand of poker on day 20 since being in Vegas. I see so many hands throughout the week that I tend to veer away from playing cash games and tournaments in my free time, but in order to obtain my hotel player’s discount, I made an exception and played the nightly $340 event in the Brasilia room.

While I was queuing to buy in, who should hobble in and join the back of the queue but none other than Doyle Brunson. It was strange, as if Michael Jackson had moon walked into the room, everyone just turned around and stared. Personally, I was just amazed that someone like Doyle still had to queue for anything poker related, reminded me of when Phil Ivey came up behind me in the hotdog stand two years back.

I won’t bore you with the details, but I departed right at the death of level three, and thus didn’t even make it to the break in one piece. I did feel this was a potentially lucrative tournament though, and if I had the roll I’d happily play these every night rather than the bracelet events. With a 5,000 starting stack, it might even be better than some of the smaller WSOP comps.

So That’s How He Does It

The day after was day one of my fourth live update, the six-handed $2,500 No Limit Hold’Em Freezeout. I was glad to be covering this event more than others because I thought there’d be more pros playing, more hands to report and, god willing, shorter days. All three of these premonitions emerged true by the end of play.

I don’t normally like to litter my blog with hands, but one in particular caught my eye during this event. Near the end of the opening day, Dario Minieri raised it up to 3,2000 from early position, mateyboy made it 10,000, Dario repopped to 22,000 and mateyboy pushed all in.

Dario paused momentarily before announcing “Well, I guess I’m committed” and making the call. Whilst Dario could only muster pocket deuces, his opponent had him dominated with kings. A king on the flop looked to have it sewn up, but running clubs gave Dario the flush.

Ooooh, nasty, as Knightmare’s Tregar would say. Even Dario was taken aback, running his little legs over to fellow countryman Max Pescaroti to share his tale of anal buggery. They use the term ‘backdoor’ for a reason you know.

Bjorin Again

As you may already know, I publish all WSOP results on the blonde poker homepage and always highlight ‘top names’, ‘Brits’ and ‘Europeans’, but Harrah’s don’t make it an easy task when Chris Bjorin is down as coming from England, David Benyamine from Las Vegas and Gus Hansen from Monaco. Why they go by their current residence rather than their nationality, I have no idea, no one cares where they live, but we may be interested to hear if a fellow countryman is running well.

I guess we can’t complain, we had two Brits on the final table last year - yes, Philip Hilm is as English as Big Ben… apparently.

Day 22…

Control V

Fuck me, there are some big names in poker, but Michael Chrisanthopoulos at a mammoth 24 letters has to be one of the biggest. If it’s not the biggest, then it’s certainly the most fucking awkward to write, so awkward in fact that we nicknamed him ‘control v’.

When you’re tired, seeing two flops instead of one, and trying to rid your vision of patches of green from staring at the felt for too long, writing down names with more than three or four consonants suddenly becomes a military operation. If those consonants are consecutive, you’re officially screwed. Every time our field reporters gave us a hand with this dude on (I refuse to repeat his name to spare myself of arthritis), he was written as Michael Chrisalphabet and, eventually, MC.

I should always remain unbiased, but I was mighty relieved when he fell short of the final table. Hand-for-hand with Michael Chrisalphabet is the stuff of nightmares. I dream of a final with Smith, Jones, Brown and so on, but as long as Greeks and Scandinavians are in the game, I think I’ll have to get used to using that ‘control v’ button on a regular basis.

Speaking of player’s names, one of our reporters has rather suspect handwriting, so I had to ask him for confirmation of a player’s name. “Is this Chen or Chiu?” I asked. “Chau,” he replied. Christ, why don’t they throw a Chan into the comp too and really test me.

Fins Don't Come Cheap

Obviously, I can’t reveal my source, but I was told today that as Patrik Antonius’s Martins Poker contract was drawing to a close, he was approached by Ray Bitar and encouraged to join the rest of the poker world on the Full Tilt bandwagon. “How much will it cost?” he was asked. Patrik’s reply? “You can’t afford me.” Gotta love his confidence. It’s probably for the best though, I mean, how the fuck could they squeeze another player into one of those posters?

On a sidenote, I was also informed that Patrick isn't quite as arrogant and pompous as one might initially think. Apparently, he's actually a timid guy, and when he first shot to fame, his English was severely limited. Instead of communicating, he therefore decided to keep stum and say as little as possible, which sometimes made him appear unfriendly. Often when poker players are thrust into the spotlight, we can make character assassinations. Maybe this is one that some people got wrong.

Beam Me Up Scotty

As we approached the final table bubble with the likes of Dario Minieri and Scotty Nguyen still in tact, I was looking forward to a fun-filled last day. However, the latter of those two players would sadly snap up the unwanted seventh spot and hit the deck on the last hand of the day.

I say sadly, because Scotty Nguyen is without doubt one of the most entertaining players in the game, and also my favourite poker player period. Although it’s considerably easier when you’re as affluent as he is, Scotty is always smiling, enjoying himself and doing whatever he can to have a good time. At one point during day one of this event, he event bought his table a round of beers. This gathering of players became by far the loudest of any of the tables as Scotty’s infectuous good vibes spread.

With players like Annie Duke and Phil Hellmuth, a lot of what they do is for the cameras, but Scotty is different, he remains his happy-go-lucky self whether the cameras are in view or not. I don’t think there is anyone in the game who appreciates, and even tolerates, the fans as much as he does. With two tables left, one moron approached him as they were colouring up and asked for a photo, and even though it was past midnight with the big money looming, Scotty happily obliged.

What I love the most about Scotty, however, isn’t that he calls even the butchest of opponents “baby”, but the simple fact that he looks like a cross between Mr T and the Fonz with a smidgen of Jimmy Saville thrown in for good measure. I mean, is there any other player in the game who could successfully pull off a vest, white trousers and multiple medallions combo, not to mention a hairdo that borders on the mullet? Seriously, just picture the Devilfish walking in dressed like that. Actually, I wouldn’t put it past him.

SAMUEL SINGER BECOMES YOUNGEST BRACELET WINNER

2008-06-18T14:07:00.000-07:00

Day 20...

Annette who? Jeff what? Steve Billa walla bing bang? Forget all of those old fogies, because there’s a new kid in town. At the tender age of one day, Samuel Singer has become the World Series of Poker’s youngest bracelet winner by taking down Event 25½’s $50,000 Crazy Pineapple Jokers Wild 2-7 Lowball High-Low-Middle rebuy event.

To prepare his offspring for battle, proud father David Singer employed the services of one of the game’s greatest ‘buy a bracelet’ specialists, Daniel Negreanu. Utilising years of spending experience, Kid Poker armed the rookie’s diapers with 100 billion dollars and urged him to keep calling for rebuys until he had every tournament chip in the casino.

Heeding the advice of his one man coaching team, Samuel Singer hit the rebuy button a record 1,239 times until he had bought himself the chip lead. Although the rebuy period was drawing to a close, the mammoth 12 man field had already been bisected in half leaving us with our final table of six:

Seat 1: Samuel Singer
Seat 2: Scotty Nguyen
Seat 3: Annie Duke
Seat 4: Phil Ivey
Seat 5: Gus Hansen
Seat 6: JC Tran

At this point, one may wonder how a young upstart playing in his first live event would be able to topple a line-up of such calibre without the cushion of a rebuy, but Singer Snr had recently watched Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and had a few tricks up his sleeve.

The first evidence of these tactics emerged when David reeled in a giant industrial magnet. Nobody knew what was happening, but when Scotty’s medallions started to quiver it all became clear. In the space of a few seconds, Scotty was sent hurtling towards the magnet like a jet propelled whippet, his face wobbling relentlessly as the G force took control.

As Annie Duke gulped nervously, little did she know that she would be next to face the Singer wrath. As quick thinking as ever, Singer grabbed a TV camera from a member of crew and entered the stage area. As soon as she spotted the glint of the lens, Duke was hypnotised, and Singer was able to lure her out of the cardroom with the ease of a champion snake charmer.

With Duke gone, her next door neighbour would soon follow, Phil Ivey leaping from his seat like an epileptic salmon as Singer turned on ESPN on the plasma screen. Apparently, Ivey had five squillion dollars riding on the Hell Bay Bakers winning the world tiddly winks playoff finals with another five on Tobey Dryant being top scorer. Ivey just couldn’t take his eyes off the big game, and his stack was eventually blinded away.

With three remaining, Singer needed a way to rid the table of Gus Hansen, a danger in any game. However, this was to prove an easy task, Singer rounding up the Milwaukee Best Light girls and having them parade around the corridors in their short denim skirts. Like a shark detects blood, Hansen’s nostrils started to flare as he was alerted to the teenage norkage loitering outside and within seconds the Great Dane was gone.

Heads up and it was Samuel Singer being pitted against one of today’s greatest players in JC Tran. Samuel Singer turned to his father for assistance, but pops was helpless. There was nothing on Tran, no weaknesses to prey on, no nothing – he didn’t even like tiddly winks!

Then, out of the blue, it dawned on him, and like a seasoned war veteran, Singer began to concoct his cunning plan. Pulling out his mobile, Singer scrolled down his list of contacts, scoured through the twenty Nguyens before reaching JC Tran’s name.

After being given the nod by his father, Samuel Singer proceeded to move all in until he was eventually called by Tran. Whilst Samuel could only muster 7-2 off, Tran had him by the short and curlies with pocket rockets.

Out came the A-A-K flop. Tran had flopped quads. The bracelet is his!

“Ring! Ring!” sounded Tran’s phone at the feature table. Tran pulled his out his mobile and turned it off.

The deuce turn did nothing but rub salt in already open Samuel Singer wounds. As Tran went to shake his opponent’s mitten, the dealer reached for the academic river…

“STOP!!!” exclaimed Singer. The dealer’s hand froze, the river card loitering in mid-air. “Tran touched his phone. His hand should be dead!” he continued. “If his hand isn’t declared dead, I shall boycott this event and tell all my friends that Harrah’s are poopy heads.”

As Jeffrey Pollack blew the dust off the rules book and flicked through both pages, it was announced that although he thought Singer was angle-shooting, he couldn’t possibly handle a reputation as a poopy head, so consequently declared Tran’s hand dead.

Tran was livid, and demanded to be bought back into the event tomorrow. The Singers, meanwhile, celebrated in front of the spotlight as the first ever father and underage son bracelet winners, Singer raising his baby boy aloft and even shedding a tear of joy as Tran was forced to exit the stage.

We had our winner, Samuel Singer, the latest big name player to don one of those sparkling gold bracelets which will be appearing on ebay in the very near future. Young padawan, may I tip my proverbial bonnet to you.

CONGRATULATIONS AND OVER-CELEBRATIONS

2008-06-16T19:43:00.000-07:00

Day 18…

Day two of the $2,000 No Limit Hold’Em Freezeout took me into the Brasilia room for the first time. I’m unsure as to why they haven’t used these rooms before as it’s a perfect substitute, or, in this incident, appendix to the Amazon Room. In fact, it’s almost like a miniature version, which somehow makes it more pleasurable to work in. Sometimes, I think the sheer vastness of the Amazon Room and constant hustle and bustle can be a discomforting and overwhelming experience.

There were few big names remaining in this event, but it did boast a handful of Brits. Although Dave Barnes, Graham Wheldon and Mike Ellis all went deep, none left with much more than their entry fee and the hunt for the bracelet continues.

There was one kid who was causing a fuss throughout both opening days. Every time he was in a pot, he’d shout profanities and spurt out random shit that the whole room could hear. If he won, he exploded, striding around the room screaming. Sometimes it was genuinely hard to work out if he’d won the hand or not.

Apparently, there’s meant be a new rule being implemented this year to prevent over-celebration after the Neanderthal actions of that bozo Hevad Khan. Sadly, I didn’t see it used effectively here as said nutter wasn’t ejected until he threatened Graham Wheldon deep into day two. In my opinion, disciplinary action should have taken place the day before.

It would seem that I’m not the only one who finds time-keeping in Vegas a disorientating experience.

Rod : “I left the casino one night expecting it to be dark, but the sun was beaming.”

Dana : “Sometimes I go out for a cigarette just to see what part of the day we’re in.”

Day 19…

The final of the $2,000 was won by Blair Hinkle, who, along with brother Grant Hinkle who had won event two just ten days earlier, became the first ever brother sibling to win bracelets. Nolan Dala had his best statisticians (well, himself on Google) working profusely to confirm, and it would appear it’s a first. We’ve had Tilly/Laak, Duke/Lederer, Doyle/Todd and Matusow/Negreanu (they dated a while back) for various other combinations, but, incredibly, never two brothers. Perhaps granny Hinkle could come down next year and take down the ladies’ event.

Although Blair was undoubtedly a talented player and fully deserving of his win, I did feel that both him and his army of fans on the rail lacked a certain level of decorum. There was one hand where Blair hit a set to eliminate Daniel O’Brien in third with sixes versus eights. The Blairites chanted for a six, and when it hit they erupted. Blair leapt up and down, high fived his buddies and generally took the pot as loudly as possible. Maybe it’s just me, but over-celebrating just isn’t frowned upon here, no matter how much it bothers me. Personally, if I get lucky and dump a guy out after making a shoddy call, I’m actually embarrassed about fluking an outdraw and would rather opt to take it quietly. Maybe I’m just too British.

What was most extra-ordinary, however, was that some of the rail would bark and shout ‘sickdog’ at regular intervals. This is because James Akenhead, who came second to Grant earlier on in the Series, uses the moniker ‘sickdog’ and Blair’s middle name is James. Nice, a ten day rub-down for someone who dominated heads up before having his A-K fucked over by T-4. Again, when there’s so much money floating around, it’s surely common decency not to rub salt in open wounds.

The whoop is by far one of the world’s most annoying sounds. I hear it every time I pass the craps tables on the way to the cardroom, but at least it’s taking money from the casino rather than a player’s hands. The main event’s the worst, as people are all too aware of the roaming cameras and will erupt at the first available opportunity to try and get some TV time. Attention-seeking at its worst.

Each time I finish covering event, another one starts two days later. After updating four of the buggers, it now becoming a grind and I’m dreading doing the 6-handed. I hope I don’t come to despise this game before my time here is done. After all, no one wants to hate doing their job.

SCHWARTZ & ALL

2008-06-14T22:35:00.000-07:00

Day 15…

The night before, I managed just four hours sleep and woke up feeling shit and looking like I’d done twelve rounds with Tyson. On my way down to the cardroom, I ran into JJ Hazan who was dining alone at the breakfast diner. He told me that Sam Trickett had won $85k the night prior on Full Tilt even though he’d been disconnected heads up. He then ran through the history of tournament, but I blanked out and nodded my head at regular intervals.

Again, the final table of the shootout was on the outer tables, which meant that we couldn’t just do a robotic hand-for-hand update, sitting on our asses listening to the announcer announce the hands. Instead, we had to run back and forth like maniacs, simultaneously trying to add some colour that we were simply too tired to add, whilst also receiving abuse in the shoutbox as to how we made a typo back on page three.

After the previous night, I didn’t expect this final table to be an eventful one, and until heads-up, it was nothing out of the ordinary. The only saving grace was Mike Schwartz (pictured). There are a handful of players (Hellmuth, Tony G, Matusow to name a few) who make updating easy, and Schwartz is no different. Whenever he was involved in a hand, he would laugh and joke with his opponents, ask them probing questions and generally do his very best to heighten the banter. In a way, these guys write the report for you, all you have to do is echo what they say into your post.

Although heads up proved to be another marathon, it was thankfully an entertaining affair, predominantly because of Schwartz’s monumental comeback. After winning what he believed to be the bracelet winning hand, Jason Young high-fived the hood on the rail, kissed the dealer and even, I believe, picked up the bracelet at one point. However, little did he know that Schwartz was still in with a paltry 150,000, of a possible 10,000,000 chips, with blinds at 60,000 and 120,000.

In what was an incredible sequence of events that sent the rail into a frenzy, Schwartz doubled up not once, not twice, not three times (a lady?), but four consecutive times to almost level in chips. Schwartz was loving it. Young, meanwhile, had a face like a firmly spanked bottom.

As is always the case after a such a gargantuan comeback, Schwartz lost it all in one go to a simple 4-4 vs. A-J coinflip. The relief on Young’s face was there for everyone to see, and I genuinely believe we would have been on suicide watch if he had lost.

The conclusion to this event brought to an end what was a twelve hour final and over thirty hours of play, an incredible feat for a two day tournament. The event basically swallowed my last two days. On the final, there was plenty going on in the Amazon Room, and I frequently wished I were watching the 7-2 lowball event instead, if only for the banter that was being bounced around by the most star-studded of casts.

When I got back to my room, I looked like I’d just done overtime at the 100 Year War. I went to sleep before my head even hit the pillow.

Day 16…

After a two day shootout turned into an epic battle against Father Time, I spent most of yesterday sleeping and didn’t rise until 5pm. Then it was back down to the Amazon Room to finish off some blonde work.

I ran into Roy ‘The Boy’ Rindley on the way, he’s a sick man. Apparently, he landed just a few hours ago, but is heading back home for a meeting before jumping on a plane and returning to Vegas. Crazy. For a man who had trouble at customs and was refused entry a few years back, you think he’d want to limit his transatlantic ventures as much as possible.

Back in the Amazon Room, the big 7-2 deuceball final was inexplicably not on the TV table. Apparently, it has something to do with insurance, but that must have been rectified at some point as they moved it in front of the cameras half way through. No idea what was going on there, but I would have loved to have watched that final on the box.

The Amazon Room is a cesspit of gossip, many of it unrepeatable in my blog without the promise of police protection. However, I was told today by a reliable source that Annie Duke, who once coached Shannon Elizabeth, is now dating Shannon’s ex boyfriend. I wonder if Shannon’s regretting asking for those coaching sessions now.

Speaking of Shannon Elizabeth, I’ve been considering trying my luck and giving her a spin. I think I’m going to have to give up on Kristy Gazes and Jennifer Tilly, but if that American Pie dude can get Shannon, then I should be in with a shot. I’m much cooler than him and have never even considered experimenting sexually with pasty based products.

In other gossip, I also received confirmation that Gus Hansen is a big ladies man, or, in other words, a bit of a slut. That one really didn’t need confirming.

Oh, what the hell, one more slice of gossip pie – I saw Ted Forrest and Anna Wroblewski holding hands and looking all luvvy duvvy. Odd pairing, but I guess they’re courting. Actually, forget I said that, who cares. If Phil Hellmuth is boning Kathy Liebert, Gobboboy shafting Clonie Gowan or Freddie Deeb doing a number on Evelyn Ng - is anyone really interested? Okay, I guess we would be with those pairings.

Max Pescatori has been carrying his arm in a sling throughout the Series. There seems to be a bit of mystery to how he garnered this injury, and he is not keen to reveal its origin. When he was asked, he hesitated momentarily before joking, “I was in the toilet and tried to hold it with one hand instead of two.” That would never happen to me, the guns can withhold the weight of any sized instrument.

I didn’t get to bed until after 5.30am, mainly because I’d risen so late in the morning after catching up on sleep lost from the shootout. With the $2,000 No Limit Hold’Em Freezeout at noon, it meant another night of little sleep. You really do need a minimum of two day’s respite, or you just get caught up in bad sleeping cycles and being even more tired than you were before you had the day off.

Day 17….

The Amazon Room is starting to feel like home, and it’s been a good several days since I’ve left the confinements of the Rio Hotel. I’m worried I may become institutionalised, like those dudes in Shawshank Redemption. Maybe if I buy a Rita Hayworth poster I could gradually dig a hole with one of my sushi chopsticks and escape before the end of the week. Nope, hold on, just checked the Harrah’s rules for meda, and escaping is not allowed.

I’ve suddenly got the sense that the Series is starting to pick up pace now. The corridors are getting busier, the queue for the toilets is longer and they’re even opening up other cardrooms to cater for the demand. It’s amazing how spread out the poker at the Rio can be – you can be playing in the casino cardroom, the linking corridor to the convention centre, the Amazon Room, the Brasilia Room, the event has just expanded to such epic proportions, it’s not just about how many players turn up for the main event any more. One announcement amused me greatly: “For those of you looking for the Omaha/Hold’Em event, it’s behind the pizza factory and the custard creams.” Binion turns in his grave.

I almost got myself into trouble with the updates by accidentally using the title “Another Threesome for Clonie” in describing a three-way pot. Knowing my reputation with puns and gentle mockery, my PokerNews boss would never have believed it was unintentional. I’m just glad I didn’t write “Clonie Comes Over The Top in Threesome” or “Clonie Takes Yet Another Hit.” “Jesus Crucified and Hung Out To Dry” is certainly off the cards too for a Ferguson exit, I don’t think I would have made it back to the room alive.

The $2,000 event was a change of pace for Dana and I who really need to practice the art of drawing straws. For once, we actually finished the day at a relatively early hour, the end of day whistle blowing at 1.30am. When I was a schoolkid, I dreamt of the day that I’d call 1.30am early.

SHOOTOUT AT DAWN

2008-06-14T01:28:00.000-07:00

Day 14…

Well, it was past dawn actually, as today’s event finished at the face-sagging hour of 7am. Somehow, an event that I was initially relieved to be covering after the torment of watching seven-card stud for three days, had suddenly become more painful than waxing my ball sack.

The first sign of danger was when one table ran right through the scheduled dinner break, but even then I hoped it was an exception. At 6am, after 18 hours of play, there were still a few tables left and Dana and I were running on nothing but coffee and hope, the latter slowly dispersing as players refused to fall.

This event has a terrible payout structure. The poor sod departing at 7am after finishing second in his round two heat wins the same paltry sum as the guy who came last in round two 10 hours earlier. Even if you do make the final table, you are only guaranteed a profit of $5k, tenth getting $7k and first a ridiculously top heavy $333k. This means you can play for hours, win two tables, yet get unlucky on the final table and go home with peanuts.

The final player to win his table barely possessed enough energy to raise a smile when he won. He wore a shirt that read “Some people work for money. I play poker.” I think he may be second-guessing that slogan now, because he’s just worked his ass off.

Annoyingly, the scheduled final table time of 2pm remains (apparently the ten hour rule only applies to TV tables), meaning that we are facing four or five, at best, hours sleep, before returning for another day. Boy, this job can be gruelling at times.

Blogging Wars

You have to watch what you say down in the Amazon Room, because there is always someone listening in ready to quote you for their blog. Pauly, of Tao of Poker fame, is always armed with notepad and pen and whenever we have a conversation he pulls out his weapon of choice and jots down a few vital notes, much in the way Bruce Forsyth used to do at the start of the Generation Game.

I’m equally guilty, a number of times Benjo has caught me writing down his comments as he is actually in the process of saying them. I think it’s made him think twice before opening his mouth.

Nevertheless, there are some cracking WSOP blogs on offer, many of which have added me to their list of links.

In return, here are some of the blogs I urge to check out:

Tao of Poker

Pokerati

Pot Committed

Wicked Chops

Hard-Boiled Poker

Gene Bromberg

Milkybarkid's Poker Blog

And if you're French and somehow not heard of Benjo...

Las Vegas, off the record: WSOP Blog

SO YOU THINK YOU'RE A BIG SHOT?

2008-06-12T16:38:00.000-07:00

Day 13…

Today was our first day off after six consecutive days of updating and although we didn’t rise until 4pm, we were determined to leave the confines of the Rio Casino.

My suggestion was The Stratosphere, as Dana had never been before. The view there is fantastic, and reminded me of my experience at the top of the Sears Tower in Chicago.

Dana didn’t want to go on any rides, she was too scared, but I bought her a ticket for the Big Shot anyhow. I was a bit hesitant myself, but like a good challenge, even if it is one that could potentially end my life.

I have real trouble with vertigo, and even the lift was a nerve-wracking experience as it rattled towards the top of the hotel in just a few seconds. The Big Shot probably wasn’t the best choice for someone scared of heights, but I really didn’t want to leave The Stratosphere knowing that I was too scared to go on any of the rides. After all, I have a reputation as a macho man to uphold.

Although I have a real trouble with motion sickness thus limiting me to a ride a day before vomiting, I’m actually relatively comfortable on rollercoasters. However, this wasn’t your average rollercoaster, but one of those sadistic vertical rides that shoot you up into the sky at break neck speed.

Perched on the edge in our seats and awaiting lift-off, I nearly gave birth to kittens when the harness support jerked upwards. Fortunately, a member of staff trundled around the corner and pulled it back down, but I must admit, it didn’t put me at ease. I’m not sure how confident I can be on a ride owned by someone as insane as Bob Stupak. I could almost picture him lurking at the side, waving manically as he pulls down on the lever.

The worst part of this ride was the anticipation while we awaited it to start. You know it’s about to explode you up into the air at any second, but you’re not sure when. It just kinda bobs up and down a little bit whilst you wait, your face scrunched up and your hands turning red as they cling onto the handlebars.

When it finally did launch, we were thrust into the air and I recall my ass actually leaving my seat. The view was incredible, but I’m not sure I could fully enjoy it whilst simultaneously soiling my pants. What’s worse is that I’ve run out of clean boxers, so I can’t afford to lose a pair during a day, and I certainly don’t want to be forced to turn them inside out and brush off the stains.

Of course, I survived to tell you the tale, but I’m not sure it’s a journey I would want to repeat. Dana is still laughing hysterically from the experience, and her arms remain stiff as if holding onto the handlebars still.

Taking on All Comers

It would appear as though Vegas has truly become multi-cultural, especially when it comes to taxi drivers. Taxi drivers over here come in all sorts of shapes and sizes and, unlike in the UK, they can actually verbalise more than just the odd grunt.

For some unknown reason, Vegas is a magnet to Ethiopia, and a seemingly large contingent of taxi drivers are Ethiopian. Our driver to The Stratosphere was called Habetu, I said I’d give him a shout in my blog.

Weird Freak Strikes Back

You have to love Gobboboy (Jimmy Fricke). After spotting Howard Lederer signing autographs out in the hallway, he just couldn’t resist joining the queue and awaiting his rendezvous with the Full Tilt star.

For those who don’t know, Lederer accidentally copied Gobboboy in on an email to a colleague after Fricke had enquired about potential sponsorship at the upcoming Aussie Millions. Sadly, Lederer’s response was none too complimentary, even calling Gobboboy a “weird freak” or something similar.

Anyhow, Gobboboy did indeed meet his idol, and duly asked his friend to take a photo. Benjo also got a snap (see my stolen copy). The picture is terrific and I love the two expressions – Lederer is just so embarrassed and his smile so forced that you can almost see it written on his face exactly what he’s thinking… “Damn that ‘reply to all’ button!”

Weighting it Out

I spotted Annie Duke in the Amazon Room today and couldn’t get over how skinny she was. Apparently, losing weight is a common theme in poker, and often the result of a prop bet. ElkY shed the pounds at the tail end of last year, as has Mike Matusow at this year’s WSOP, both making a tidy sum in the process. Even David Benyamine has left the comfort of his swivel chair to, well… walk and stuff.

Dutch Boyd is still big.

I AM VIGGO!!!

2008-06-11T04:23:00.000-07:00

Day11…

Well, I guess I was wrong, because today was a marathon 15 hours session with the final table bubble, Brandon Cantu in the end, bursting at 5.45am. On numerous occasions I lost the will to live, and, thanks to my Book of Bunny Suicides, was considering the various methods of self-termination available to me. In the end, I decided that knocking on Johnny Chan’s hotel room door and greeting his woken up face with “Johnny Fucking Chan” was my best route, but I backed out at the last moment.

I felt sympathy for our field reporters, because I know how tough it is to be on your feet so long watching hands play out. We let one of them go a hand before the end, a friendly game of papers scissors stone being the only solution. The shout of dismay when one of them lost echoed across the empty room and all the remaining players looked up.

I had to laugh - when one of them came trundling over one hand I said, “I can tell no one’s been knocked out.” “How?” he replied. “Well, when it’s an exit you run over like Carl Lewis.” “Who’s Carl Lewis he replied?” Sigh, surely I can’t be getting old at 26?...

I am Viggo!!!

For those who follow our blonde updates, you may be aware that we have a tendency to liken Thomas Fougeron to Viggo out of Ghostbusters (you really do never see them in the same room), and then a few months later we added Jani Sointula to that exclusive list. Well, they say three’s a crowd, but not so in my book, as here comes Viggo number three, one Greg Pappas (pictured) who made the final of the Stud/Omaha Hi-Lo event. Congratulatons, welcome to the club.

WSOP Creditation

Good too see PokerListings get a few more press badges. Sadly, they drew from a hat and Floppy was one of the unlucky ones, meaning he has to sneak in out and “look like I should be there”, as the Flopster said himself.

Meanwhile, Benjo has become frustrated with the overall allocation of media badges. He was initially refused accreditation, came over anyway and asked a contact at Everest to swing it for him. He finally got his paws on one in the end, but it’s a shame that someone who puts so much into not only his job, but the industry as a whole has to fight for access when others, many of whom either haven’t updated their blog/site in months or are just ‘friends of friends’, get access at the drop of a hat. It’s a topsy-turvy world.

Day 12…

Crusty Pants

Oh dear, I’ve reached that stage already. I’ve run out of underwear and been forced to wash them in the shower. Unfortunately, I’m not your survival type, and have grown up in a world of luxuries, so wasn’t surprised to wake up to crusty pants. They’d shrunk too and it felt like I was wearing speedos. Ah well., guess I’ll just breathe in. I do have two emergency ones, but I don’t use them, even in emergencies, mainly because they have holes in precarious places.

Thank you

Before I continue, I’d just like to offer my thanks to the finalists in today’s $2,500 Omaha/Stud Hi-Lo event. After going to bed so late the day prior (we even managed to get breakfast at 6.30am), I was grouchy as hell today and dreading another long day of trying to work out stud hands. Thankfully, that didn’t happened, and we wrapped up at around 9pm with Farzad Rouhani taking bracelet gold.

Again, we were resigned to the outer tables (I’m wondering if this is a PokerNews strategy – “keep those darn Brits away from the TV cameras”), but it was a blessing in disguise, as I don’t think we could have pulled off hand for hand coverage.

Today was, by far, the most stressful update I’ve ever done. We were fatigued, unfed and facing another long day of being asked “what tournament is this”, “who’s chip leader” and “how do I reach the TV table?”

Also, I honestly can’t emphasise enough how difficult it is to blog seven-card stud hands. The Omaha is a relief at times, but because the hands are shorter, it’s mainly stud. If it’s a multiway pot forget about it, there’s just not enough time to write down the hands. Even if it’s heads-up, when it gets to the showdown, players have an annoying tendency to move their hands around and separate them into the high and low. At this point, you’ve lost track of which are the holes cards and before you’ve had time to work it out, the hands are being mucked. Even when you think you’ve got it down, you get back to your seat, write up the hand and then realise you’ve got two cards down twice. Argh! Post the fucker and you’re in big trouble, because boy do people like to highlight your errors. Within seconds you’ll get some smart arse saying “Are there two king of clubs in the pack”. Twats.

On this particular day, there was more action than a Die Hard flick, and as I was writing down a big hand, whilst simultaneously trying to confirm that I had given the low to the right person, not duplicated cards, etc, Dana would run over saying “I have a double through!” Then before I’d finish my post, there would be another all in. It was such hard work trying to keep up. Give me two cards and Hold’Em any day.

Poor Read on The Reader

Finally, I was watching the final three battle it out when a middle-aged woman shouted “Snoops!” from the rail with her arms out-stretched. Without meaning to sound egotistical, this happens quite a lot, and a surprising amount of the times it’s from people I have never met and have no chance of identifying. On this occasion, I was about to say “errrr, how’ve you been?” and hope they reveal their identity somehow when I suddenly noticed Michael Martin standing beside her. Thank the Lord, this was the giveaway.

This lady was indeed Michael’s mother, ‘The Reader’ on blonde and an avid follower of her son’s poker antics. We have spoken many a time, although only in written form and via the blonde poker updates, but it’s almost like I already knew her. It’s bizarre when you meet these people, it’s as if you never really believed they existed in human form. In the end, she was just as I imagined her.

Tomorrow I finally have a day off which I'll probably fill with lots of sleeping, a little more sleeping, then a small topping of sleeping before finishing with an end of day sleep. Joy!

ENTER THE DRAGON

2008-06-07T22:52:00.000-07:00

Day 9…

Fuck me he’s back. Before I’ve even starting updating the pot limit final, this dude who’d been complaining on the last update comes into the shoutbox and says “Oh no, not Dana and Snoopy again,” adding, “their coverage is shit” and even calling me “mentally retarded” at one point without me even pushing his buttons.

His alias is xdragon, and he’s miserable as sin. His comments today made me feel a lot better actually, because I realised that he wasn’t worth worrying about. Thanks again to everyone that has complimented our updates thus far, it makes us feel a lot better because we’re working our asses off out here.

Singer in the Reign

David Singer won the $1,500 event. Incredibly, he’d cashed in two events in the same day earlier in the week, predominantly because the pot limit had whittled down to the money so quickly.

I’m not his biggest fan, mainly because of his angle-shooting with last year’s phone incident, but he did play well, showing the patience of a saint to turn a short stack into a heads up spot. His opponent Jacobo Fernandez was a tough nut to crack, and it took a coin-flip to do so.

It’s good for us that the final was on the outer tables, because it meant we didn’t have to cover every hand, but it was a shame for the players who missed out on the TV spotlight. It’s weird when the final table isn’t on centre stage, it just doesn’t feel important, and no one seems to take any notice, but I guess that’s the power of the cameras. It also means that the finalist won’t get sponsored in any form, likes James Akenhead did in the No Limit.

What this final table did prove, however, is that the WSOP is nowhere near as crapshooty as people like to claim. Yes, it’s a bit restricted at the start and you can’t afford to lose too many early hands, but as you get deeper, it’s a pretty generous structure. If I have to choose, then I’d always have it so there was more play near the end as that is where the big jumps in money are.

Heads-up was circa four hours, and the players did take the dinner break when we lost third place (much to our chagrin), but we still finished at a decent hour. Shame I have to start the Stud/Omaha Hi-Lo event tomorrow. Eek!

Day 10…

Return of the Dragon

Oh fuck me. Apparently we received a couple of complaints today about the tone of our updates. We were asked to turn down the volume, cut out the puns and not be so cheeky. Sigh, why do I get a feeling our friend xdragon had something to do with it?

Oh Crap!

There was a funny story with one of our field reporters. Apparently he’d mistaken indigestion tablets for candy and had been popping them like there was no tomorrow. He can’t crap now.

Erik Lindgren wins event Event 4

Lingren has finally won a bracelet after a couple of near misses. I was hoping he was going to come in second again because I think he’s a bit of smug git. Also, when Matt from PokerListings asked him if it was a spade on the river when reporting a hand one event, Lindgren wouldn’t tell him. He’d won the pot, but shrugged his shoulders and sniggered as if Matt was crap on his shoe. I detest this kind of elitist attitude. Then again, not too many wanted Bonomo to win either.

All Quiet on the Western Front

They’re down to the last nine in the 10k mixed game, only 192 runners though, but that’s to be expected. Tough field, unpopular games, big buy-in – was never going to attract thousands. Anyhow, at 5am, whilst I was finishing off my blonde work (left at 6), they were still playing last two tables and waiting for the bubble to burst.

The atmosphere was really strange. Apart from the odd cash game, the place was pretty empty. You get so used to seeing the likes of Sammy Farha and Eli Elezra being hounded by ‘Heat Magazine’ readers and trailer park housewives that it’s strange to see them in isolation, away from the crowd. They just feel like your Average Joe and you get to see them in a more natural way – “scratching their balls or doing coke on the table” as Benjo says.

It was so late that even the cleaners had the vacuums out, making a loud whirring noise that was driving Sammy round the bend. Have to admit, it was a relief when they turned it off, but it makes you laugh when there are janitors sweeping up behind you and tumbleweed blowing by when there’s so many famous stars playing for so much money – reminded me of the marathon HORSE final from 2006.

As I left, I worried that I’d be updating my event till 5am too. Surely I was just being paranoid though, this was just an exception, wasn’t it?...

AKEN FOR A JOSTLE

2008-06-04T00:45:00.000-07:00

Days 7 & 8...

Yesterday was gruelling, so much in fact that I just didn’t have the energy to pen my blog, and decided that a good eight hours sleep was too important to miss. The update itself was 13 and a half hours in total, but we checked in early to meet up with the field reporters, and checked out late after completing my blonde work. This led to a 17 hour day, and one which suddenly formed the realisation that this could be a very long week indeed.

When you’ve covered an event throughout the day, you just want to fall onto your bed the moment the final whistle blows, but I’m juggling two jobs this month and remain obligated to fulfilling my daily chores with blonde, even if my brain is only working at a third of the pace. It’s surprising how quickly the tasks build up, however small. No major work, just niggly issues like having to publish a sponsor’s news item, upload the day’s results, make a change to a cardroom schedule, edit the WSOP page, etc, etc. Before I know it, it’s 4am and my hope of watching a Sopranos episode before bed has turned to dust.

My opening day’s work with PokerNews was almost hitchless, apart from a mad spurt at the end where we missed a few exits. If the field reporters aren’t up to scratch, then there’s nothing Dana and I can do, as we simply translate the information they supply us onto the PokerNews blog – we barely even move from our seat. If they get it wrong, we get it wrong, which consequently looks bad on us rather than them. On the whole though, they were pretty good, two in particular as keen as mustard and more than worthy of their spot.

This morning saw the introduction of the now legendary Raab ID system, where players have a unique ID number and a card that they carry around with them so that they can be identified at all times. This was only introduced a week prior to the event, and Harrah’s have a reputation of resisting change, but the early signs are that it is working well. It helps that the players are told about the system prior to kick off, although I doubt Jonathan Raab will be happy when they announced it as “brand new” and “revolutionary”. Ah well, I guess that Tetris guy didn’t get any credit either.

I did notice that a few players felt they were ‘above’ the ID system. Tom McEvoy’s ID was found in the eliminations box at one point, so it was assumed that he’d been eliminated. I duly reported his exit on the blog, but later spotted him again in the tournament, and quickly learned that he’d dumped it. Great, I look like an idiot because Thomas can’t be arsed to keep his card with him.

Similarly, Dave Singer refused to take his card with him when he moved table one time, simply saying, “I don’t need it, you know who I am.” In fact, I’m not sure I’m Singer’s biggest fan, especially since the phone incident from last year when he was clearly angle-shooting. This year, he was the only one who wouldn’t play to the final with ten players remaining and the dinner break just moments away. After dinner they returned to play for around ten minutes - didn’t seem worth it to me, plus it meant I missed the Rio buffet and had to pay over the odds at the deli. In fact, I guess I could say that Dave Singer stole food from my mouth.

I try my best to add a little humour and colour to the blog, but I can’t deny to being a little disappointed when someone complained about me in the PokerNews’ shoutbox, suggesting that I was “trying to hard” and demanding that I “just report the action.” There were complimentary comments too, but this did upset me because the last thing I want to do is just report hands without adding any flavour to the reports. I’m not the most skilled of writers around, so I depend on these added quips to get by, but I guess you can’t please everyone all the time. Some people like bad puns, MC Hammer references and subtle mockery, others don’t.

One thing that did amuse me was when I made a post complaining about the automatic flushes here in Vegas, that I genuinely still can’t fathom. It was very tongue in cheek in truth, but one viewer sent me a private message supplying me with a walkthrough guide to using the Vegas toilets. She even linked me to a picture of the device explaining where the sensor was located. Muchos thankos to that kind person, I shall be giving the toilets a full investigation next time I feel a rumble in the jungle and will let you know how I get on.

All the big names seem to be elsewhere, many migrating from my tournament after elimination, and I’d certainly rather be watching James Akenhead battling Chris Ferguson and co at the $1,500 NL final table. Naturally, James has his crew with him, a suitless Reservoir Dogs of sorts, with Karl, Sunny, Chaz, Praz and newcomer Tony Phillips all in tow. The latter of those had to be escorted out of the room the other day before he was banned, after one of James’ opponents called for a “spade” even though he wasn’t in the hand. That flush did indeed come and James went mad, asking Ngo why the fuck he was calling out cards.

Whilst James steamed off, Tony confronted Ngo, “jostled” according to the reports, to give him what for, but it soon fizzled out. Sunny quickly led Tony outside before it kicked off, and later advised him to get rid of his red top so he couldn’t be identified (his ginger hair is probably a giveaway too), but when Tony removed his top, he revealed another red top underneath. “Oh great,” thought Sunny. If I'd been in range, I would have brought out the guns myself, but I arrived on the scene too late to release the beasts. Ah well, their time will come.

Meanwhile, James returned to an inaccurate stack, the dealer trying to fob him off with 8k when it should have been around 50k. The mistake was rectified, and the rest is history. Let’s just hope James can keep his cool and snap up one of those shiny gold bracelets before the end of the day. This might be our best chance to bring back some gold. I’m not sure what’s more likely though, James winning a bracelet or Tony making it to the end of the month without being barred.

Must dash, but before I go, I’ll leave you with some puntastic headlines that Dana and I have been having fun with at PokerNews’ expense. Which do you reckon is the best (or is it worst)? Place your votes now…

Levi-Tation (David Levi)
A Close Schaef (Brandon Schaefer)
Dutch Courage (Dutch Boyd)
Attack of the Clonie (Clonie Gowen)
Lisandro Suffering From Agita (Jeff ‘Tony Soprano’ Lisandro)
Tim Fails to Ad-Vance (Tim Vance)
Blair Rich Project (Blair Rodman)
Amir All Over the Place (Amir Vahedi)
Flock of Spegals (Mike Spegal - reigning champ)
Green Green Grass of Going Home (Martin Green)

THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM

2008-06-02T00:24:00.000-07:00

Day 6...

Today was highly uneventful, mainly because of one too many White Russians last night (the drink, that is, rather than the local whorehouse), so I won't waste your time with any fluff. I did intend to pop into the Voodoo Lounge just to show Dana the view, but at 20 bucks entry refused on principle.

Tomorrow will be my first day of work in which I shall be covering the $1,500 Pot Limit Hold'Em Freezeout with Dana. Please feel free to bump up my views by following the updates on PokerNews.com.

PROPER KIMBO

2008-06-01T14:33:00.000-07:00

Day 5...

I woke up this morning with an uncontrollable urge to ambush the Rio buffet, so, along with Dana and Rod, I indulged in a spot of face filling with three overflowing plates of nosh, not to mention two tubs of ice cream on top. Rod foolishly opted for the lobster legs, only to discover that he didn't possess the culinary skills to actually eat the god damn things, but persisted nonetheless before inevitably cracking open the shell and squirting lobster juice in his face. Dana, meanwhile, was munching away quietly, pensively thinking, "Could I sneak a free dinner if I stayed here for the rest of the day?"

On the way back to the room I noticed a couple of odd attractions. Firstly, there was a male dancer performing what looked to be some kind of epileptic fit or camp mating call on a small stage in the centre of the casino. What was more bizarre was that his only audience were big butch men, all of whom were gawking up at him and wondering what the hell he was doing. Further along I ran into what I believe was some kind of slots tournament, if it is, somehow, possible to hold such a competition. I have no idea how it works or how one would indeed triumph, but the strategy seemed to involve bashing the buttons incessantly as if playing the latest edition of Track and Field, and boy were these pensioners moving fast, spitting in the face of RSI and pushing arthritis to the very max. Surely random drug testing should be introduced?

Speaking of slots, there are a number of bizarrely themed slot machines scattered around Vegas with brands such as ebay, Indiana Jones and, naturally, Elvis all getting in on the act. I even spotted a Sopranos one today in the Rio. How that would work, I'm not sure. Do they have the head of Paulie Walnuts instead of cherries? Can I visit Doctor Melfi if I get agita? Do you get whacked (sorry, clipped, I'm so early nineties sometimes) if you win too much? The mind boggles, but I may have to give it a crack at some point, especially with my recent introduction, and subsequent addiction to the DVD boxset which has been keeping me entertained of a night.

Personally, I've been focusing my attention on the video poker and blackjack, predominantly because I can stick in five bucks (although that soon turns into a hundred) and guzzle down the free drinks. I've always found video poker rather frustrating, so nearly dropped my White Russian when I hit four deuces on deuces wild for 200-1 - shame I was only playing 25 cents a pop, but it felt good nonetheless, and it took me a good hour before I was happy enough to rid the screen of my moment of triumph and play another hand.

I wasn't the only one winning though, as Richard Brodie, who, for those of you who don't know, was the creator of Microsoft Word and now one of many celebrity poker enthusiasts, hit so many big hands on video poker that he was banned by the Rio Casino for er... winning too much. However, he later appealed, and was allowed to play again, the Rio finally conceding that it was possible for people to actually win.

Whilst playing video poker and slowly getting drunk, Dana and I watched Ultimate Fighting on the TV and bet on the results of each match like any good gambler should. Whilst this minor distraction resulted in my pressing the 'max bet' button (which, non-coincidentally I believe, acts as the same button as the 'stand' option), I managed to win a whopping one dollar! Still, the final bout was highly entertaining as a Mr T Doppleganger, complete with gold teeth, medallion and a beard that a small family of robins could nest in took on this tall lanky English chap that looked like he'd been thrown out of the Hills Have Eyes auditions for looking a little too odd. The Mr T dude was actually called Kimbo Slice (which sounds like a piece of Christmas pudding), and somehow boasted the impressive combo of bald head and ponytail. Only two other men in history have managed this feat: Paul Heyman and Catman - it's an elite club.

Of course, it hasn't been all gay dancers, White Russians and Mr T lookalikes, as I did manage a quick afternoon ramble into the cardroom. The Series is really starting to pick up pace now with three events running simultaneously. Whilst John Kabbaj was busy bubbling the final table of the $10k Hold'Em (in testicle-crunching circumstances, might I add), James Akenhead was running well in the record-breaking $1,500 No Limit Hold'Em event, finishing the day in 10th position. Sadly, fellow Hit Squadders Sunny, Chaz and Praz bit the dust early doors, but Karl hits the felt today, so best of luck to him.

Whist watching James from the rail, I overheard my first touristy comment of the year (of which there shall be many), when one guy asked, "Is this the Main Event?" More to come I'm sure when I finally start work tomorrow's $1,500 Pot Limit Hold'Em...

WHAT TYPE OF MASSAGE?

2008-05-31T12:11:00.000-07:00

Day 4...

Whilst Dana and I await the $1,500 Pot Limit Hold'Em on Monday with the anticipation of an atheist on Death Row, our PokerNews colleagues have been busy beavering away at the opening $10,000 Pot Limit Hold'Em event. Although they could prove elitist, I quite like the introduction of these high buy-in events, if only because there is more potential for a star-studded final table, which in turn will, hopefully, boost the ESPN views that have been sagging so much of late. Of course, at $10k it could possibly take the shine off the main event, which is why I'd like to see them bump up the fee to $15k, or maybe even $20k. If they can attract several thousand for a $10k event. I'm sure the field would remain meaty and satellites popular if they added $5/10k to the asking price.

One thing that I've latched onto this year is the usefulness of the Rio shuttle buses, which commute hourly to other casinos such as Balley's, Paris Paris and Caesar's Palace. Normally I wouldn't have given them a second look, but at several bucks a pop, not to mention the virtually obligatory tip, taxis fees can add up and make a dent in your wallet over a long period of time. The shuttle bus driver made me chuckle today - the journey was only about three minutes, yet he was on the mike like a holiday rep saying things like, "Welcome aboard the Rio shuttle bus, we hope you have a good stay" and "We shall be arriving at our destination very shortly, we wish you the very best of luck". I don't think we'd even left the Rio car park when he said the last one.

On our travels we visited Paris Paris, Balley's, Planet Hollywood and finally the Bellagio, the latter of which I spent a good deal of time in when I covered the 2007 WPT Championship Final. For those who haven't been, the Bellagio is pretty darn exquisite with marble floors, indoor gardens, fantastic fountain display (their biggest expense, I heard) and, much to Dana's joy, a ceiling high chocolate fountain. The atmosphere, although bubbling, seems to be more refined, and everyone acts in a more civilised manner, unlike the Rio where it quickly becomes a cesspool of whooping and hollering as young jocks toss each other off. Whilst admiring the Bellagio interior, we also popped our head into the cardroom where we expected to see a few famous names, but on the whole, the place was dominated by mateyboy with the only familiar face being Marcel Luske. Oh, and, much to Dana's tabloid-loving delight, David Sklansky.

After blowing my roll on blackjack, I convinced Dana to try out one of these aqua massage machines which, as the title implies, uses jet sprays of water to massage your body while you lie patiently in a tank. It's a unique experience to say the least, and apart from tickling my tootsies on every venture south, was rather invigorating. Two little cute Russian girls stood behind the cashier desk, and if Dana hadn't been lurking, I may have wooed them with my boyish charm or, more realistically, cowered like a frightened infant. Either way, I was glad I didn't embarrass myself like one dickhead did as he passed, this American bell-end (should that be hyphenated?) when asked if he wanted a massage replying "What type of massage?" and chuckling away with his buddies as if it was the wittiest jibe they'd ever heard. Fucking twat.

Later we vetoed a night out in the swanky clubs to live it large in the er... Gold Coast casino next door. The temptation of cheap food and a more reserved atmosphere (oh, and we couldn't be bothered to travel further than the next casino along) was too much to resist as we found ourselves pumping the video poker with loose change. If there's one thing I've learnt, it's that the best way to achieve a cheap night is to stick around the one cent slots in these quieter places and just keep ordering cocktails. See, not just a face.

HAPPY PREFLOP DAYS

2008-05-30T12:32:00.000-07:00

Day 3...

Remember those girls? Well, zip your flies back up because they're yesterday's news, and it looks like we're left with the sorry sight of Billy Connolly, Rowdy Roddy Piper and Rod Paradise as the only known kilt wearers. Sad times indeed.

Today was strictly business (well, and chops) as Dana and I attended a PokerNews meeting at Lucille's Smokehouse BBQ in Henderson. It was a bit of a change heading off strip, and a long awaited first in fact after four trips to Vegas, yet it was worth the wait, as the surburbs really are a treat. Many players who migrated to Vegas recall how they played the strip for the first three months of their tenour, before tiring of the plethora of tourism and sticking to more local jaunts - I believe Jim '777dave' McShane was the same.

Around sixty people will be working the World Series for PokerNews this year, and most of them were at Lucille's. Head honcho John Caldwell gave a standard pep talk, before introducing every single member of the team - rather embarrassing and for some unknown reason I decided to wave with both hands like a gooseberry when I was required to stand. However, the most shocking moment of the meeting was when he announced a 'no shorts' dresscode. Wassup wit dat?! How can I woo the ladies without my chiseled pipes on display, I can't work on charm alone?! I guess I'll just have to roll up my sleeves and invite them to the gun show instead.

After placing an array of meaty treats into a doggy bag (PokerNews spent an impressive $900 on the meal, although I believe they could have rounded it up to a grand), Dana and I headed over to the Rio for the bloggers' meeting with Garry Gates. On route, I spotted Barry Greenstein, Katja Thater, Johnny Chan, Greg Raymer and Jamie Gold in the corridors, so expect to see them in tomorrow's opening $10k Omaha event. I also gave Sorel Mizzi a wave, but I've never been aware of his Omaha prowess, so perhaps he's braced for event two.

The Amazon Room itself is pretty much the same, if perhaps swamped with even more advertorial banners than before. Surrounding the room they've brought back the giant picture banners of previous main event winners, now accompanied by Player of the Year victors, which means Jeff Madsen, Daniel Negreanu and Allen Cunningham will now be peering down at you as you play.

Our blogger (bloggers write, field reporters observe) meeting was an amusing one, predominatly due to the in depth discussion about whether no limit should be capitalised or if cutoff was one word or not (it is, apparently). A big kerfuffle occurred when the issue of 'preflop' and 'postflop' cropped up, but after about thirty minutes of back and forth debate, history was finally made on Orange Table Twelve when it was announced that these words would NOT be hyphenated. Many were delighted, but some were clearly appalled, even suggesting that they would take hostages until the hyphen was returned.

Today also saw Dana and I set up camp in the Rio after two nights in the Orleans. I've never been a fan of the Rio - it's loud, gaudy, crowded, expensive, elitist etc - but it's worth it to save the daily commute. The most annoying thing is that it's inexplicably difficult to find food. At 11.30pm we found ourselves heading back to the Orleans just to grab some cheap tucker in their 24 hour diner. I feel so uncomfortable in the surroundings of the Rio that the serenity of the Orleans was welcomed with open arms. What's more, I had a full breakfast for just $2.95 whilst Dana munched on steak and eggs for $3.95. Now that's value!

Having said that, the rooms at the Rio are impressive. Comfy bed, nice big sofa, floorspace - and what about the view, it takes half an hour to close the curtains of a night! What does concern me, however, is the little window connecting the bedroom to the bathroom. I caught Dana peering through today whilst I was on the kazi like a horny peeping tom or a salivating pervert at a peep show. I had to close the shower door to obstruct her view, but it was a highly disconcerting experience nonetheless.

Although the Series starts tomorrow, Dana and I aren't pencilled in until Monday as updaters are being asked to cover the entirety of each individual event. This most likely means that we'll be working six (or maybe even nine) days straight, so I guess I'll have to make good use of my days off. The bar will be a good start, and maybe even Seamless strip club if I can convince Dana that it's a form of art.

DAY OF REST

2008-05-29T01:11:00.000-07:00

Day 2...

Am at the Orleans, but will be heading over to the Rio tomorrow in preparation for my Alan Patridge-esque stint. Been pretty quiet so far, and there don't seem to be too many Brits around, apart from Neil Channing who has temporarily exchanged the Bellagio for the Vic. Guess I won't be seeing much homegrown talent in Friday's 10k Omaha, although surely the likes of Colclough, Goodwin, Grundy, Ashby and co won't miss that one?...

Still a bit jet lagged, so took it easy today, basically wandering aimlessly around the casinos. Managed to see Mandalay Bay, Excalibur, Hooters, MGM, Tropicana and Luxor, all with expected gaudy themes. Can't work out Mandalay Bay though, is that a place? Is it like Summer Bay? Nope, hold on, just Wikipedia-ed it and apparently it's a South East Asia theme - that's like Cambodia, Thailand, Vietnam, etc... Hmm, not one of the dealers said they'd been loving me long time, so I'm not convinced.

Somehow was able to walk from Mandalay Bay all the way back to Orleans without dying of dehydration (okay, okay, we stopped off for shelter in the Adult Superstore on the way - needs must when you are a curious cat), but it shows that the weather here is workable, unlike the pending 110+ heatwave of upcoming months.

After a few fruitless spins on the slots and a debut at In-N-Out Burger (surely slimmest menu of any restaurant around), finished the night with a second trip to the flicks to see The Forgotten Kingdom. Nice surprise, not amazing, but still plenty of fun, and great to see Jackie Chan and Jet Li in collaboration, even if their scenes, the ones that were in English and thus didn't require subtitles, really did.

THE EVOLUTION OF BEAGLE

2008-05-27T22:07:00.001-07:00

DAY 1...

Have arrived in Vegas after a worryingly bumpy ride, which stopped me from going to sleep because my head kept bobbing against my seat. Traveled direct with Virgin, which makes a refreshing change from having to connect in some random city and receive the now customary grilling from custom officers who have barely even heard of poker.

The other end I ran into Pete Costa, who confessed to hating the Rio yet reluctantly continuing to play there, and Surinder Sunar, now donning recently acquired moustache. Throw in a Graham Souness perm and he'll be the spit of a Columbian drug baron. Also spotted was Ludovic Lacay and Nicolas Levi, the two Frenchman hungry for bracelets.

Been a lack-lustre opening day. A few drinks, couple of slots and a trip to the cinema to watch Speed Racer was about as exciting as it got. I am donning a new hair-do after an entire year away from the claws of the hairdresser. My barnet was short and blonde this time last year, and now it's short and brown, but I did experience a spurt of growth in between, of which is documented below in my 'Evolution of Beagle' series.

Don't worry though, I'm not a vain person, these pictures were taken for my girlfriend on various occasions throughout the year. I was going to link them together for a youtube clip like those dudes who take a daily photograph of themselves for five years straight, but I didn't think it was worth it for three seconds of footage.

So, here you go, a twelve month cycle of my hair, including, for your amusement, a quickly disposed of gay pirate look. It was sad to see the chops go, but I concluded that John McCririck's looked like old man pubes, so he can keep his 'biggest chops in poker' title, and I think I would have frightened small children if I'd stayed choppy but cut the rest of my hair.

The question is, was the final chop the correct one? A simple yay or nay will suffice, but preferably the former as I am very sensitive. Dana's likes it long, rather than short, but I say it's what I do with it that counts.

BRACED FOR ACTION

2008-05-25T17:38:00.000-07:00

Blistering blue Brunsons, is it that time already?! Gosh, I guess it is, and in just two days I'll be heading over to Vegas for what I believe is my fourth (or is it fifth, they morph into one after a while) time and my third consecutive WSOP. Unlike previous years, however, blonde poker won't be making an appearance of any kind. This is unfortunately due to the exclusivity of the PokerNews blog and the restrictions that are put on place on any other media outlet. So, like any other sensible turncoat, I've joined the enemy and will be working the first month for PokerNews. They did ask me to do the whole Series, but after slogging it out for them last September at WSOPE, the mere thought of battling through two months in the Rio cattle market sent a shiver down my spine and right up into my jaxy. Taking the shrewd advice of those Grange Hillers, I just said no. It's nice to be recruited though, rather than having to go hunting for work. PokerNews are pretty darn good at this poker lark, so it makes me feel that I'm actually good at my job when they knock on my door. Indeed, at one point, I was even arrogant enough to gloat to myself (thankfully not to others) that I was perhaps the world's best blogger. It may be true, who knows, but the mere fact that my ego had expanded to such explosive proportions is now seriously disconcerting in hindsight. I guess because my playing career hasn't gone as swimmingly as I'd once hoped, the thought that I was actually good at something, maybe even the best, was rather comforting.

For those who have never worked at the World Series, take it from me, it's a gruelling task, and it doesn't quite sink in until you're a few days in, knackered and suddenly coming to the realisation that you've still got weeks of updating left. Fortunately, I've always been able to get through it without learning to hate my work, but like most arduous jobs, I try to treat it as a challenge and extract as many positives from the experience as possible.

I haven't decided whether I recall it fondly or not yet, but one of my most vivid memories is the HORSE event of 2006. When just two players departed in the entire opening day, I think Jen and I knew we could be in trouble, and the shimmering of bum holes was indeed justified when Day Two's twenty hour (yes, you heard right - twenty hour!) session was followed by a marathon final table that included that epic seven hour heads up war between Andy Bloch and, praise silence, Chip Reese.

What was worse, and I don't mean to criticise the deceased, is that the two remaining players were, on that day anyhow, the two tighest, cagiest competitors I'd ever seen, and neither was willing to give the other an inch. Few pots were raised pre-flop, and I've seen less checks in my local Natwest Bank! Heads up can undoubtedly be the most challenging part of any update because you have to watch the start of every single hand just in case that's the one that finally seals the deal. Maybe Chip just didn't want a big fuss or an overbearing crowd when he triumphed. Well, he certainly achieved that goal as it was 11am in the morning when he snapped up the title and everyone was in bed except the janitor who was sweeping the stage as tumbleweed flew by the players' tootsies.

Although I have a tendency to moan about a job that many poker fanatics would die for, I do appreciate the other side of updating, and that is my encounters with the many characters of the poker world and all the different stories that they produce. Just off the top of my head, I remember Andy Black and Davood Mehrmand (both mad as box of monkeys) enjoying a scrap in last year's Omaha. Phil Laak also entertained me, as did Kevin O'Leary when he was ID-ed in one of the fancy bars as Jen and I strode ahead. The fact that Kevin is well into his thirties was probably the trigger for his bulldog/wasp impression. How about Vinny Vinh, what the hell happened to him? Reckon he'll be here this year, or are we going to have to search the desert again? I can also picture Marc Goodwin storming out of a bracelet comp having tilted off his stack, frustrated with not only how his Series had gone (that's badly by the way), but his entire year under the Mansion brand up to that point. He genuinely was at his wits end and looked like he was ready to quit poker there and then. The fact that he's just won a GUKPT and is flying high shows you how much the tide can turn.

But out of all the people I've met, the one that inexplicably stands out is Jim Pitman. If you don't recognise the name, he's the one that Phil Hellmuth claimed didn't know how to spell poker on one infamous ESPN clip. In fact, that's how he introduced himself when I met him outside the Orleans - I was waiting for a taxi at the time, and he offered me a ride to the Rio in his truck. On route, he told us how he'd become a minor celebrity just because of those fifteen seconds (yes, forget minutes) of fame. He also told us that since then, he's become a millionaire, selling, would you believe, cushioning for the backs of trucks so people can camp in their vehicles. Truly bizarre. I don't know why I remember this dude. Maybe it's because I recognised him from just one single hand, or maybe it's because I was in awe of how someone could become renowned just for being the recipient of a Hellmuth insult. Perhaps, however, it was simply that he was one of the smaller guys, a minnow who was taking on the titans at the grandest stage of them all. That's what I love about the World Series, the fact that players of all calibre and celebrity can lock horns on the same platform, and that sometimes David defeats Goliath or, as this guy did, flukes a hand, gets shouted out by a poker legend, and goes on to become a millionaire in his own right.

Anyhow, Vegas must be just a day away now after all of my waffling, so I'll stop there. What I will tell you is that the PokerNews gig has left me with little time, especially as I still have to undertake my blonde poker administrative duties post updates each day. This makes extensive blog entries a hurdle too many, so instead, I'll be making short daily entries - snappy, brief, and to the point (something I'm not accustomed to). So, keep an eye out for them and speak soon, peeps. Be sure to tap my shoulder if you spot me in the Rio. "Viva las Vegas!" as one aging rock 'n' roll love machine once sang. No, not the Devilfish.

LINK REQUESTS

2008-05-14T09:19:00.000-07:00

Howdy, all. I noticed recently that I didn't have links to blogs that bore mine. Thanks to those peeps, but please feel free to pester me for an exchange.

In that sense, if anyone would like me to publish a link to their blog, please leave your url in the comments box so I can add them all at the same time rather than individually.

WHILE MY CYST GENTLY WEEPS

2008-05-07T16:22:00.000-07:00

I drove Dana to the brink of insanity singing that line incessantly throughout the second half of our holiday, but I felt I had good reason to. After enduring several days of discomfort, I finally decided to take my cyst to the doctors. Simultaneously inviting Dana to "watch something gross", Dr Lee proceeded to squeeze out all the gunk that had built up. According to Dana, it was like a thin tube of yellow puss. Nice.

The fluid kept building back up, and Dana kindly took over squeezing duties, but the lack of any constant lump rubbing against my collar and a second prescription of antibiotics seemed to do the trick, thus making the latter part of my holiday that much more enjoyable.

Leaving Chicago behind, we made our way up to Canada to visit Dana's brother in Toronto, taking the odd detour in the process. The three day trip was assisted by AQA whose wisdom (or, more accurately, access to Google) directed us to the Indiana Dunes, National Lakeshore and Cuyahoga Vallery, all of which we duly visited.

AQA certainly have their uses, but can sometimes miss the mark. I asked then why Dana was sulking one morning and the response was as follows: "Dana was sulking this morning when you left the hotel because you forgot to tell her how beautiful she looked. She wants you to give her more attention." So, in response, I offered my hand and complimented Dana's beauty, to which she replied, "Fuck off". I would have been impressed if AQA had answered "painters are in", but they can't get it right all of the time.

FOR MY MUMMY...

2008-04-30T21:01:00.000-07:00

Howdy from the windy city. As I alluded to in my last post, I am indeed livin it large with my other half in Chicago. I did start posting my holiday snaps, along with a few interesting facts, comments, observations, etc on tikay's Vegas thread over on blonde, but that went down like a lead baloon tied to an anvil (not even a series of train pictures got the ol fella's heart racing!!!), so I'm afraid it's my blog readers who are going to be lumped with the unwanted slide show.

In hindsight, I suppose holiday snaps are a bit dull, but I'm sure my dear mother would be overjoyed to see some photographic evidence of my current existence, so just for her, here are just a few of the photos we have taken during our first week away (ps. sry blonde for the bs hat, it was the only one I had and the weather was very nippy)...

SUN, SEA & CYSTS - PART II

2008-04-25T07:07:00.000-07:00

PokerStars media coordinator Mad Harper is renowned for emailing us her pie charts, and after I suggested that her chart was inaccurate and unrepresentative of the field because it had excluded the lesser nations, she got herself into a bit of a fluster. The video clip below was the result. When I was informed that I’d made an appearance, I nearly creamed my pants, fame at last! I’m the ‘man without a face’. Fck my life.

Also continuing to impress are the SikTilt boys Ruri and Hassan, I love their stuff and wish we could afford to bring them to blonde. I was going to try convincing my readers that their Negreanu interview was real, but I think most people know it’s not by now. The mere fact that people weren’t sure, though, is credit to the acting, one take and no rehearsal might I add. Enjoy!

The eventual winner was Candian business student and recent poker pro Glen Chorny. Glen was an odd character, and managed to put his foot in it when he was caught slagging off Michael Martin behind his back. I was in the bar when Chorny strolled in with his folks, the father, incidentally, being a dead ringer for Andy Warhol. Few people congratulated him and he didn’t seem to be getting the rounds in, so I don’t think he was the most popular of victors. At one point, I saw Dani Stern approach him, but I couldn’t quite hear the precise details of the debate. Something about fabricating high stakes hand histories and lying about what he'd won, and they also seemed pissed off that Chorny had said he’d been unlucky in the tournament even though he’d won, it all seemed rather petty. On the flipside, I did hear that Glen Chorny offered to back Asa Smith in a few events after he bad beat him out of the Bahamas EPT, so he can’t be all that bad.

Jeff Garza, Brandon Schaeffer, Michael Martin and a number of others were in the bar, but I was too tired to socialise. I spoke to Brandon and Jeff momentarily, but they seemed drunk, so I decided not to bother. If there’s one thing I hate, it’s trying to talk to people who have been boozing when you’re not just tired, but completely sober. I want people to make sense and be themselves when I talk to them. The only good thing about these moments is that all the gossip and rants come pouring out at breakneck speed, it’s just a shame that the tournament finished so late and limited my ‘Heat Magazine’ time.

More entertaining were the antics of Antonio Esfandiari. He was absolutely leathered and had reeled Jon Tabatabai, Josh Tyler, Sorel Mizzi and co into his drunken antics. At one point, there was a lot of noise coming from the bar. Apparently, Sorel had bet (probably for thousands) Antonio that he couldn’t make ten people lie down on the floor without directly telling them to lie down. I think Antonio pulled it off, but was pulled up on a technicality because he’d told someone else to ask people to lie down on his behalf.

On the way home, we ran into John Kabbaj at the airport. He appears to be “hitting the crossbar” of late, but seems like a nice enough chap, so I hope he strikes gold soon. We were talking about the helicopter journey from Monaco to Nice and he said that Freddy Deeb and Devilfish nearly died in it three years back. “It was a windy day, the helicopter was rocking from side to side and the lights went out. Freddy was sure that was it.” Good lord, imagine your last moments being in the arms of the Fish. He’d either pull out the guitar for one last swansong or give you his trademark wink and say, “Well, we might as well squeeze in a quickie before we go.” I’m not sure what would be scarier.

As we parted ways at the baggage claim I asked the Cabbage if he was going to Vegas and he sighed and said, “Yeah, I guess I’ll be there”. It kind of echoed some of my thoughts of late. Poker can be a trudge at times, but in the end, we love what we do, and would be lost without it. I’m working the World Series with PokerNews this year. I’m not particularly looking forward to it and I know it’s going to kill me, but I’d feel as though I was missing out if I wasn’t in the thick of things. I love the game and all the controversy that surrounds it, there’s so much going on in poker, and I want to be there to see it al unfold.

In a few days I’ll be enjoying a fortnight holiday in Chicago and Toronto. I upload daily results for blonde, so pretty much work 365 days a year. In the two and a half years I’ve worked for the company, I’ve never taken a day off. Even when I went to Amsterdam with Dana, I was doing my work in the mornings. With that in mind, I think these two weeks off are going to be a shock to the system, I’ve become a workaholic of sorts, and don’t feel comfortable if I’m not doing something constructive. When I’m watching TV, I’ll still be adding galleries, updating blondepedia and whatnot with the laptop on my lap. In many ways, I’m an obsessive compulsive, and I hate wasting time.

What’s been concerning me most is the condition of my cyst. I promised Dana that I’d take her on holiday in April, so I was worried that the doctor would say I couldn’t go for whatever reason. However, I went into A&E this morning, and they said that if I took some of their super duper antibiotics, and kept applying the dressing, the mucus should start to ooze out. Nice. I’ll still have to have the cyst removed when I get back, but not having the infection would make life a lot easier. The last thing I want to do is ruin our holiday because I’m not in a fit state to do anything, I guess there’s more important things than poker after all.

SUN, SEA & CYSTS

2008-04-20T14:30:00.000-07:00

On paper, Monte Carlo sounds like a blast. Sun, sea and poker, yeah? Think again. Try sun, sea and cysts. At the best of times, covering the Grand Final is a challenge: long days, no sleep and prices that make Harrods look like Oxfam. Throw a cyst into the melting pot and I was miserable all week.

I visited my GP complaining that I had a tender lump on my back, and she told me not to worry about it, but by the time I’d got to Monte Carlo, that tender lump had become an infected cyst. It burned/stung sporadically and hurt every time I moved, not to mentioned rubbed against my collar constantly. Severe toothache is the only comparable way of describing the pain and discomfort. The picture to the left is from last week, and it's been getting gradually worse since.

Last year, budget cuts meant we were three to a bed. Picture the scene: Jen and myself on the edge with Floppy snoring like a foghorn in the middle. I recall one time I gambled on the chair and footstool combo, but during the night I’d wake up only to find myself folded up like an accordion due to falling through the gap in the middle as the stool glided away.

This year, we were treated to the luxury of a roll out bed and, more importantly, a mini-kitchen. This meant that we could pop out to the supermarket on arrival, stock the fridge up with assorted treats, and chow down at the end of day. This is crucial to our health, sanity and wallet as the bars and restaurants within the vicinity of the cardroom would make Bill Gates beg for mercy. What’s more, the burgers, which are €20 a pop, aren’t always cooked. There are few things that truly get my goat, and ripping people off is one of them.

If you’re heading to somewhere as luxurious and extravagant as Monte Carlo, it’s ironically appropriate that you fly with Easy Jet. For some reason, flying has become more and more difficult for me of late, and Easy Jet don’t help the matter. As well as standing up in a seat-less waiting lounge, you should also brace yourself for a bumpy ride, and don’t be surprised if that wing hits the ground before the wheels do. I breathe a bigger sigh of relief each time I land, which isn’t a good sign for someone who flies as much as I do.

The tournament was the usual affair, and even bore witness to the annual arrival of King Teltscher who pulled up to the front door in his bright red Ferrari. What was more amusing was that French player Paul Testud tootled on up moments later wheezing like an asthmatic mule on his rusty bike. Snapper Teltscher sure does like to show off them wheels, but I hear he doesn’t have a bad bone in his body, just not a great people person. I also learned that he wasn’t TheV0id, apparently he set up the account for someone else (who shall remain unnamed) under his sister’s name. All hearsay of course, but it suggests he wasn’t personally playing two accounts.

At the end of the first day, we learned a valuable lesson. One, leave before the players do and two, bring a map in case there are no taxis. For some reason, taxi drivers seem to take the day off on Friday and Saturday night, hence the 30 minute waits, and that was only because everyone else conceded and decided to walk to their hotel that was two minutes down the road. One morning I made the mistake of taking the taxi driver’s bag out of the boot thinking it was Dana’s. An hour or two later, he waltzed into the pressroom demanding it back. I felt like such a wally… why didn’t I nick anything before he arrived?

Boris Becker was a notable presence, I was wondering when he was going to show his face. He had two grunts standing either side of him as he played, as if he was P Diddy Widdy or something. Boris’ table was constantly swamped with people taking photos and bloggers waiting for him to do something dumb. Flash photography was banned for just him, and when Dana tried to calculate his chip count, one of the grunts tried to prohibit her from doing so. Yes, Boris is a superstar in the tennis world, but he’s not holding a racket anymore, he’s on our court now where amateurs can play against the pros and sit next to the Tobey Maguires and the Shannon Elizabeths of this world. After a couple of events, I doubt anyone will give a toss who he is.

What I find most interesting about Boris isn’t the Wimbledon titles he won, but the fact that he conceived a daughter in a restaurant closet. At the time, I foolishly believed the rumour that they’d only had oral sex and that she’d stored his bodily fluids in her mouth only to seminate herself later on. Sounds funny in hindsight, but I was young and vulnerable. You never know though, this story could still be true, which is why I made sure I was alone whenever I went into a closet. I recall brushing passed him on one of the days, I think I may be pregnant.

The highlight of the week for me was the encounter between Joe ‘Bruiser’ Hachem and Woody ‘The Brawler’ Deck and, for a moment, the joy of Woody calling the Hach an asshole temporarily removed any cyst pain I was suffering from. There are a number of different variations of this story. I was watching another table at the time, so missed the hand, but I did witness the aftermath first hand. (I ran over like a Jerry Springer fanatic at the first sign of a potential scrap.)

From what I understand, Hach lost a big pot after Mateyboy called an 80k bet/bluff on the River. Hach tried to muck, but Woody requested to see the cards. Hach refused and the dealer mucked the cards. Woody asked Hach why he was being such an asshole and claimed he was angle-shooting. At this point, Hach’s skin went green, his clothes tore (except his pants, of course) and he leapt from his seat like an epileptic salmon. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” he exclaimed. Before he had a chance to deck the er… Deck and send him to the er… deck, Antonio Esfandiari quickly restrained the Hach from the seat behind. Meanwhile, Woody just sat there with a silly grin on his face. Hach then stormed through the crowd, who parted quicker than a whore’s legs, and went to cool off outside.

The way I look at it, the rule is there to stop collusion. Woody is within his rights to ask to see the cards, but in doing so is effectively calling Joe a cheat, which, of course, isn’t very sporting. At the same time, Joe’s a sponsored player and representing a brand. He can’t just throw a wobbly as soon as someone says “ya mom” or something. If Antonio hadn’t been there, I’m sure Hach would have risked a red blemish on that tanned fist of his and punched him. What struck me as more bizarre is that someone so successful could be so easily riled, I’m sure if he hadn’t been advised to leave, he would have tilted off his chips within a few hands.

to be continued...

THE BIG SPIN UP - PART II

2008-04-10T12:43:00.000-07:00

Last month Neil Channing won the Irish Open. If ever there was a player who had ground his way through poker, spent hours upon hours battling it out at the cash tables in the Vic, and approached poker with the level of discipline it requires to remain in the game for years to come, then it’s Neil, and I’m delighted that he’s reaped his rewards. In fact, Neil is probably the complete opposite to the big spin up guy. To him, poker’s a living, and for many years, the glory of tournament poker and winning that ‘major event’ never really appealed to him.

The urge to play the big time is all too prevalent in most players, including myself. Unlike other recreations, there is this sense that poker might ‘pass us by’, that the standard of poker will improve and make that major scoop more difficult, or simply that people will lose interest and these huge fields will quickly disperse. Much like scoring the winning goal in the F.A. Cup Final, we all dream of winning a major event like the Irish Open, but sometimes you have to be realistic.

The variance in poker is so huge, that even Phil Ivey could go months, even years without winning a big event, so what chance does an amateur have if he saves up his pennies for the odd biggie every few months? Of course, it’s possible, but it’s unlikely, and when there’s so much risk, perhaps the Channing route is best.

As I said in Part I, it’s all about what works for you as an individual, but personally, I want to be in the game for as long as possible. I can’t deny that taking a stab at a big tournament isn’t fun, but if it means that you have to struggle along with just the hope that a big win is around the corner, then I’m not sure it’s for me. I don’t want to play on hope.

Recently, playing poker has taken a back seat. As someone who works in poker, you can sometimes overdose on the game, so I’m currently enjoying my brief hiatus away from the virtual felt. Even if I felt like playing, my upcoming schedule is just too hectic:

11th – 18th Apr – Monte Carlo EPT
22nd – 6th May – Chicago & Toronto holiday
10th – 11th May – DTD blonde Bash 6
29th May – 27th Jun – WSOP

With that in mind, I’ve come to accept that I won’t be playing poker until after the World Series, but that’s fine by me. When I get back, the plan of action is a simple one. Put $3k into blonde for heads up matches and $3k onto Party for 6-handed action. Just playing heads up is demoralising. I’m in profit from the last few months, so I know I can beat the game, but I need to keep things fresh, hence a return to Party where I believe the games are good. I’ll probably start at $1/2 and work my way up gradually, but I hope to be back playing the $3/6 and $5/10 tables before the year is out.

I’m not writing off live tournaments, but I don’t want to buy straight in like I have been. I don’t have much time on my hands due to work, but if I’m firm with myself, I hope to play at least one satellite a week, depending on how successful my rings games have been. My Internet connection is annoyingly poor, and work often gets in the way, but if I write out some sort of schedule and make time, there’s no reason why I can’t play more sats.

Finally, I like to keep challenging myself, whether I succeed or fail. So, in that sense, I have come up with a list of goals for the next twelve months. I was going to call them the magnificent seven, but I squeezed in an extra one at the last minute, so they’re now the Excellent Eight:

(1) Qualify for the Ladbrokes Poker Cruise
(2) Qualify for the 2009 WSOP
(3) Win a festival side event or a DTD/Walsall monthly freezeout
(4) Make the final table of a festival Main Event
(5) Play every event of one festival
(6) Play in a different cardroom in London every night for a week
(7) Play cash poker in Vegas for two weeks
(8) Finish the film script I started writing

So there you have it, there’s my big spin up. It’s going to take a bit longer than some other people’s, but I’ll get there in the end, and hopefully one day, all my hard work will pay off like it did for Neil.

SHAMELESS PLUG

2008-03-27T15:27:00.000-07:00

A few people have been asking me when I'm going tp publish some of the interviews I've done this year, well, one of them, my surreal encounter with Humberto Brenes, has just been uploaded onto the blonde poker homepage. Also there is my one-on-one will super geek Bill Chen, not to mention Floppy's recent exchange with EPT Prague victor and French frogster Arnaud Mattern. To read any of those interviews, please click the links below.

Humberto Brenes

Bill Chen

Arnaud Mattern

For those of you who subscribe to poker magazines, or, like me, have a tendancy to stand there shamelessly reading them in Borders, then please feel free to check out my recent article in WPT. This month I'm discussing legendary blogger Ed Hollis, which might be of interest to you guys because, well, you read blogs, obviously, otherwise you wouldn't be reading this. I tend to be at the back of magazines, although I haven't worked out if this means anything or not. Is there a page hierarchy in mags?

In other, and deeply sadder news, I've been informed that I don't possess the biggest chops in poker. Rumour has it that John McCririck is still alive and kicking with the mega chops on full display every time he hits the felt. I may have to chop the chops while he's sleeping, or perhaps put a horse's head in his bed just to send him a message.

This is me upon receiving the bad news...

Anyhow, shameless plug over.

THE BIGGEST CHOPS IN POKER

2008-03-26T18:59:00.000-07:00

I haven't cut my hair since last May. As a result, I think I might have the biggest chops in poker. I knew I'd win something sooner or later.

THE BIG SPIN UP

2008-03-23T17:37:00.001-07:00

I started this blog in November 2005, and since then, I don’t think I’ve ever gone over two weeks without posting. Due to a challenging update at the Vic and a hectic stag do in Amsterdam, I haven’t been that interested in playing online, but the truth is that poker has bored me this month. When you both work and play poker, it can sometimes seem that your life revolves around a deck of cards. As such, burn out is always a danger.

Playing heads-up cash is a gruelling task and can, at times, be seriously demoralising. When you’re winning, everything’s peachy, but when the chips are down, it can be a depressing game. I think the repetitiveness, mammoth swings, and general lack of interaction make it a really tough game to tackle, but I remain confident I can beat it. I had a great February, but a poor March, and a succession of bad beats and bad play have left me feeling rather empty. I’m fully aware of the idea of variation, but as someone who earns money outside the realm of playing, I find it difficult to play when I’m not enjoying it and I just detest the idea that I’ve eaten up hours of my life losing money, even if I am to gain it back later on.

What triggered this post wasn’t my frustration with the tedium of poker, but LuckyLloyd’s comments on my last entry about ‘The Big Spin Up’ and taking a shot. This is a topic that has always lingered on my mind, and I’m still not sure what the best approach is for me. One day I’ll feel like shoving it all in like that dude who gambled everything he had on the spin of a wheel, whilst on other days I’m happy to grind it out in front of the lappie.

Jen opted for the former last year. Her strategy was to spend everything she had on a big comp, and then again a couple of months later until she won something. Although she was aided by sponsorship and a subsequent cash in the Ladbrokes European Ladies Championship, she eventually won the Green Joker Poker event in the summer for €30,800. Now she is playing all of the GUKPT and many major events across Europe such as the Irish Poker Open.

Personally, I don’t like the idea of being out of the game, never having a bankroll, and just hoping that when you have saved up enough cash to take a stab at a big event, it’s the one where your luck is in. The variation in tournament poker is so high, that you need to be playing multiple events, not just several a year. You could be the best player in the world, but still not find that big spin up for years.

I’ve done both. I’ve spent hours upon hours in front of the computer grinding out the cash games, I’ve also splashed out on events such as the Midlands Masters, the London GUKPT and the GJP Deepstack, but sadly to no avail. I believe I’m good enough, but coming up short on those particular occasions and not being able to afford the next GUKPT because that wasn’t ‘my time’, is ultimately rather disappointing.

Instead, I believe the most favourable approach for me is to allow the current crop of major events to pass me by, as painful as that may be, and spend as much time as a I can earning money working within the business and focusing on building up a formidable roll online. Like most people, my goal is to play the entire GUKPT tour, the World Series Main Event, the Irish Open, and so on, but I don’t want to have to rely on the big spin up, in case it just doesn’t occur. Poker should still be here in 2009, and I want to be a big part of it, so perhaps that should be my year.

A non-poker project that I’m currently involved on nearly payed off recently, but the deal fell through at the last minute. The pay off would have come at a great time and allowed me to attend many more festivals in a playing capacity than I currently do, but it wasn’t to be. I think that extra boost to the bankroll would have done me the world of good. Sometimes if you’re playing a major event knowing that it might be your last opportunity to win big for a few months, it can hamper your confidence, and I think that’s another reason why the idea of gambling on a big spin up isn’t for me.

The upcoming weeks are going to be pretty chaotic for me and won’t leave me with much time to play online. I have a wedding next week, a Dusk Till Dawn update the week after, then it’s off to Monte Carlo, and then I’m on holiday in Chicago with Dana. Upon return, I’ll have a week to catch up with my work, before heading off to Vegas for a month to work on the World Series for PokerNews. As such, it looks as though my plans for building up my bankroll the old fashioned way will have to wait until July. That sounds a long time away, but at least I’ll be keeping busy and earning a bit of money in the process. The only problem is, when I get paid that money, especially the lump sum for my WSOP work, will I then spend it on, say, the GUKPTs in Luton and Bolton, the Irish Series of Poker in Waterford or even the Master Classics in Amsterdam? The brain says spend the money sensibly and grind, but I have to confess, sometimes the heart persuades me to gamble…

A GAMBLER AT HEART

2008-03-07T21:30:00.001-08:00

Last weekend I made a last ditch decision to head up to Dusk Till Dawn for the monthly £300er. I only had a couple of hours to get there, and the Ford Fiesta does tend to make a strange rumbling noise when it reaches 70, but I was in the mood to gamble.

I made it in pretty good time in the end, but when I reached down to grab my shoes, I realised that I’d accidentally picked up my toilet bag. Now, that may seem like the mistake of a simpleton, but I have a tendency to place a lot of my belongings in plastic bags, thus concealing the identity of their contents. Anyhow, imagine my shock when I tried to squeeze my feet into a toilet bag. Not only that, but I’d travelled all this way like a coked up Nigel Mansell only to risk being refused entry.

At 26, you don’t expect to experience those anxious teenage McLovin moments where you’re nervously wondering if the bar all your mates are in are going to accept your fake I.D., but that’s how I felt, and I really couldn’t bare the humiliating journey home at such short notice.

Back in my school days, one approved strategy was to beg some random lass to go in with you for extra credibility, and I thought the same could be applied here. Cue the arrival of Julian Thew. Hallelujah! Who better to go in with than an EPT/GUKPT hero and someone who had previously entered the Gala Casino in open-toed sandals and a Pauline Fowler cardigan?

With Julian by my side, I confidently approached security, but a big foreboding hand soon obstructed my path as Julian waltzed in unhampered. “Sorry, you can’t come in with trainers.” At this point, I attempted a number of different strategies, ranging from begging, lying and pleading total ignorance, but nothing seemed to work. We even debated in detail the rule about ‘no sportswear’ and whether this included my black Nike trainers. “But I’ve never played any sports in these,” I cried. Funnily enough, that didn’t seem to work. “But I’ve travelled all this way, I thought I’d be okay like this.” Nope, that was a no go too.” “But I genuinely don’t even own any shoes.” Oh gosh, this really isn’t looking good.

“I’ve only been here once, and that was at the press tournament on the opening night.” Oooooh, this perked up a few ears on the sidelines as another chap from behind the desk said, “Well, okay, we’ll say this is your first time and let you in just this once.” Phew! Even then, there still seemed to be a standoff with the first security guard seemingly stuck in refusal mode, but after the other dude repeated himself, I quietly crept in thanking my lucky stars that I didn’t have to about turn and head home.

I won’t bang on about DTD, I’ve already blogged about how great it is. Everyone is always sucking up to DTD for various reasons, so I won’t repeat myself. It’s excellent, there’s no doubt about it, so say no more, if you haven’t been, just go.

An impressive 170 players turned up. On my table were Ironside, Rana Gurnam and Lucy Rokach. I won’t bore you with my entire hand history, but will mention a couple of hands.

The first one involved Lucy. With a stack of 13k and blinds at 75/150, I raised it up to 500 with A-To and received two callers, one of whom was Lucy on the button. The Flop came Ac-Qs-7d. I checked, Lucy bet 1.5k, Mateyboy folded and I flat called. Turn was the Js. I checked again and Lucy bet 3k leaving herself just 3,150 behind.

I dwelled up for ages, which probably annoyed a few people, but I’m determined not to allow other people’s impatience to force me into making the wrong decision. In the end, I put her all-in and she called with 7s-5s which hit a 7d on the River. This obviously frustrated me, but I’d made the right decision which was ultimately the most important thing to me. It would have been easy to back out of that hand, but, as I do in online cash (hence hectic swings), I felt I was ahead and stuck with that belief. I don’t want to play scared poker.

I grinded my way back up to 17k, before dropping down to 8-10k. At this point I’d noticed that Rupert Elder was raising it up in the same sort of position each round, and was probably playing a wide range of hands, so, with blinds of 300/600, I pushed from the small blind with 9-6o after Rupert had made it 1,500. I was pretty sure he was going to fold, but he gave me a spin with 5-5 which stood up.

I’ve thought endlessly about this, and whichever way I look at it, the bottom line is that I made a mistake by overestimating the fold equity in the hand, which, considering he called with Fives, didn’t really exist unless he had was on a complete steal. I actually thought he’d only call with Nines or above, so I guess I simply misread my opponent.

Apart from that final hand, I’m really pleased with how I played in this tournament. I made few errors, read the game well and grinded when I needed to. On the other hand, I did feel kind of depressed, not because I was out, but because it reminded me of all the tournament poker I’ve been missing out on and how perhaps, if I just played more, I could take a big comp down. As someone who spends so much time working beyond the felt, I sometimes worry that the tournament scene is passing me by. I grind out a decent enough wage online, but the glory and competitive nature of tournaments is something that I find attractive. I’d hate for the poker buzz to one day disperse and find that I missed out on these opportunities and failed in my goals to play big events such as the Irish Open and World Series of Poker. Sometimes the urge to jack in all my work responsibilities and become a full time pro is overwhelming. Never say never, I’m still a gambler at heart.

THANK GOD I'M ALIVE

2008-02-26T16:11:00.000-08:00

The world of a poker blogger can be a bizarre one sometimes. Only earlier this evening I found myself trying to pay for my MacDonalds in Polish Zloty and yesterday I noticed that my clock was still on Bahamas time. I even unearthed a party invitation from the back of my cupboard from none other than Chip & Karina Jett at, and they're clearly a classy duo, Minxx Gentlemen's Club. How I missed this one I'll never know, especially with their mugs gleaming back at me. Crumbs, I need to sack my dentist.

Last weekend, however, the poker rollercoaster took me to more local shores as I returned to Waterford for the blondepoker.com Team Event. I'm not usually one to fear plane journeys, but the flight over was as stable as a rubber ladder. The plane could only squeeze in about a hundred passengers, and a guy pushed the propeller to get it started. A bird only had to fart and the plane would sway. I was surviving with just sweaty palms for most of the journey (deep breaths, deep breaths), but when the seatbelt sign flashed, I had kittens. God knows what I would have done if the oxygen mask had fallen down, I think I would have shoved it back in and pretended I'd never seen it.

I think I actually thanked God (I don't do that too often in truth) when we landed, it was such a relief. The airport at Waterford is tiny, they only have two check-in desks and three or four flights heading out each day! I think it's the only place I've been to where the bag reclaim doesn't have a travelator. Instead, they just push it out onto some metal cylinders that roll (well, sort of) the bag down. Imagine if they'd done that on the Generation Game!

There weren't too many familiar faces, and most of my time was spent comparing Nicky Power to Stewey Griffin off Family Guy (I so hope that one sticks). As is often the case, I had to ask most people their names, but in Ireland they're about as incomprehensible as Brad Pitt in Snatch, and after asking them for the umpteenth time with my head tipped to one side, I eventually conceded and just handed them the pad. I'm always shocked when it comes back with something as simple as Mike Jones or Pat Smith. As broad as their accents are, those Irish guys sure are fun, and they can play a bit too!

After a gruelling 13 hour shift, some team beat some other teams and it was done and dusted, all that was left was the journey home. I so detested the flight out, that if the weather had been bad, I would have shelled out for another flight. If anything, I was just concerned about getting travel sick, as the plane had a tendency to dip up and down. I'm not sure what I was more scared of, waking up the chap next to me by vomiting on his lap or crashing. Luckily, the sky was crystal clear so I rolled the dice.

To my surprise, there was barely a shimmer on the way back, so God knows what the first dude was on. Anyhow, I pat the pilot on the back (from my seat) and returned back to Hampstead, safe and sound, ready to catch up with some much needed sleep. Before I hit the sack, I decided to calm my nerves down and relax in front of a film. Why I stuck on Alive I'll never know.

DROGHEDA AND BACK

2008-02-15T18:52:00.000-08:00

I haven't been in the mood to update my blog recently, but considering I posted that I was going to play Drogheda, I should at least add to that post, if only to thank everyone for their good luck messages.

Unfortunately, Drogheda was a bit of a disaster, and although we started with a mouth-watering 50k stack, I went out at the end of level 8 on Day 1. At first I was gutted, predominantly because I thought I'd played terribly, but in reflection, and after talking to the likes of Barny Boatman and Julian Thew, I think it was just one of those days.

I started well, reaching 65k early doors, but after that, it all went tits up. My reads were off and I just wasn't hitting anything. Even with a 50k stack, you need to hit a flop at some point. About three or four players were seeing every flop on my table, so you could forget about bluffing. However, because they were so loose and aware that they had plenty of chips in front of them, if you hit a hand, you could get it paid, but I was missing everything.

I moved table with about 45k and joined the likes of Gary Clarke, Kevin Fitpatrick and Michel 'The Abacus' Abacassis, but it just got worse, and everything I touched turned to shite. In fact, I think I only won one hand on that table the entire time. I tried mixing it up, grinding, gambling, calling, raising, re-raising, but nothing worked and my stack gradually dwindled down in 5k chunks. Severely shortstacked, I made a correct fold with Jacks, but wasn't rewarded when my all-in with A-Q was called by A-K which had limped under the gun. I knew exactly what he had as soon as he called, but thought his under-the-gun limping range was too wide for me not to push.

I was so gutted about my early exit, that I was actually pretty depressed back at the hotel and could barely bring myself to talk to anyone. I was sharing a room at the time, but just wanted to be on my own so I could just sit in bed watching films. I really am the worst company when the chips are down, but my way of dealing with it is by being a hermit until I feel better. I came with Benjo, Jen and Floppy, who all made it through to Day 2, so I kinda felt left out too.

I did have a wander around Drogheda a few times, but to be honest, there weren't too many sights to see and I really wasn't in the mood, I just wanted to go home. So, on Day 2, after the team were all done and dusted, I spent €60 on a flight out of there. Back home and out of the confines of the hotel room, I felt fine, almost as if I'd been suffering from a case of homesickness, which is a bit weird when you consider I spent several weeks in Vegas undeterred.

Although it wasn't my day, I don't think I played well either, and because of that, I felt guilty towards my backers. I was going to sell a few percent of myself and, even though I said I wasn't going to play either of these events, buy into the Walsall GUKPT. However, I just don't feel like I'm playing my 'A' game at the moment, so wouldn't feel right taking people's money. It's about time I made a sensible decision, so although it pains me to enter the boring world of bankroll management, I'm going to give Walsall a miss.

On the bright side, online is going okay and, although I'm not striking gold just yet, I'm making a profit and paying my bills comfortably. Barring a disaster, I should be playing a few big tourneys in the upcoming months, maybe a GUKPT and the DTD monthly. The important thing though is that my relationship stays away from the rocks and my self-esteem remains high. If I can make sure I feel good, then my online form will improve which will subsequently lead to a bigger roll for live tournaments. Earning online is important, but winning a big comp is the ultimate goal.

Sorry for the lack of humour and downbeat nature of my post, I just feel like I'm stuck in a bit of a rut at the moment.

FUCK IT

2008-02-05T05:44:00.000-08:00

I've sold a chunk of myself and decided to play the Green Joker Poker European Deepstack Poker Championships. It's my biggest ever direct buy-in at €1,500, but how many chances am I going to get to experience a starting stack of 50k? I don't think I'll be playing the WPT $25,000 Final any time soon, so let's give it a crack.

Good luck me! A cash of any sort and I'll be playing the Walsall GUKPT too.

It's only money.

(25) BOUNCING BACK

2008-02-03T05:31:00.001-08:00

On Jan 31st, I stepped into the fray once more for one last crack before the challenge deadline and after 2 hours and 31 minutes of play, I left the table with a $459.06 profit and my head held high. The challenge may have been a failure, but I still made a half decent profit and managed to finish on a positive note. Since then, it's been very up and down. I've yet to really find my feet, but I'm in profit for February and even won my biggest pot since playing $2/4.

I'm a little tired of writing about my heads up experience, so I'm going to leave it for a while. At the end of the month I'll update my progress and detail exactly what I learned from the challenge and whether or not I have successfully utilised that information in improving my game.

Until then, here is that hand with the final stats below (exc. the rakeback which should be in the region of a thousand dollars)

GAME #826985624: Texas Hold'em NL $2.00/$4.00 2008-02-02 23:05:01
Table Montana (Heads Up)
Seat 3: Villain ($591.55 in chips) DEALER
Seat 8: Hero ($737.80 in chips)
Villain: Post SB $2.00
Hero: Post BB $4.00
*** HOLE CARDS ***
Dealt to Villain [HJ DJ]
Dealt to Hero [D10 D8]
Villain: Raise $12.00
Hero: Call $10.00
*** FLOP *** [S2 S7 C6]
Hero: Check
Villain: Bet $24.00
Hero: Call $24.00
*** TURN *** [H9]
Hero: Check
Villain: Bet $68.00
Hero: Raise $164.00
Villain: Call $96.00
*** RIVER *** [DA]
Hero: Bet $535.80
Villain: Allin $389.55
*** SUMMARY ***
Total pot $1,328.35 Rake $1.00
Hero: wins $1,328.35

biggest pot won: $799.40
biggest pot lost: $459.06
time at the table: 2hr 31 min

profit = - $459.06
blonde poker account = $3,174.17
total profit = $1,874.17
$1,815.83 before the taxman goes away

days played = 25
total time played = 82 hrs 58 mins
total rake earned = $860.85

final $ per hour = $22.59
final $ per day = $74.97

THE 2007 BEAGLE AWARDS

2008-01-30T07:22:00.000-08:00

THE 2007 BEAGLE AWARDS

Whilst scouring through some old articles, I stumbled upon one from January 2007 entitled The 2006 Beagle Awards (click to see), a fun little awards ceremony in which I outline some of the highlights of the past year in poker and allocate my own fabricated awards as if I were Billy Crystal at the Oscars.

Although we seem to be creeping towards February, I feel that The Beagle Awards is worthy of another run, so let me present to you, the class of 2007, now boasting three more categories…

(1) HIDEOUS PHOTO OF THE YEAR

Winner = Phil ‘Snatiramas’ Cooklin
Last year’s winner = Simon Trumper

Sometimes in horror films, the scariest parts of the bits you don’t see, and although Simon Trumper triumphed last year with his shock display of buttock flesh, we can only wonder with a great sense of intrigue what (1) is lurking beneath the shirt (2) why Phil would deem it necessary to cover in the first place and (3) why he appears to be more scared than us. He may be Luton’s answer to Brad Pitt when it comes to eye candy for the ladies, but to us heterosexual males, this image can only conjure up unwanted memories of waking up after a heavy night out, glancing to one side and thinking, “Gosh, those lights sure were dim in there.”

(2) HAIRSTYLE OF THE YEAR

Winner = Gary ‘The Choirboy’ Jones
Last year’s winner = Olabode ‘Buddy’ Ayegun

As a part-time commentator, Gary Jones has never been the quietest chap in town, but during the Summer of 2007, it appeared as though his physical appearance had also been cranked up a notch or two as the Choirboy donned bright green hair at the inaugural WSOPE.

With a naturally pale face and a hair colour as green as green green grass of home, you’d be forgiven for thinking that The Joker had cut down on the pies and took up poker. But fear not, there was a logical explanation to the absurdity, and one which was highly commendable. Protesting on behalf of global warming, Gary’s hair was a vivid show of support for the cause and a constant reminder of how big the problem is.

(3) NORKAGE OF THE YEAR

Winner = Dena
Last year’s winner = the Doylesroom Girls

Dena has been milling around the world of poker for many a year now, but much like a fine wine, she has matured with age, becoming juicier and fruitier as the years pass. Never is an update free of requests for the dealer come tournament director extraordinaire, and updaters are usually equally keen to oblige the salivating blonde viewers. She may lack the sword and skimpy body armour (one can only dream), but Dena: Poker Princess is surely the best thing to come out of Luton over the last few years.

(4) CAPTION OF THE YEAR

Winner = Andrew ‘AndrewT’ Tracey
Last year’s winner = Curtis ‘Sheriff Fatman’ Ledger

As voted for by the esteemed members of blonde poker forum, the familiarly dry wit of Mr T takes it down with his gem of a caption for Messieurs Gosney and Kendall.

Two hours into a classic tikay anecdote and Lawrence's soul finally leaves his body.

(5) ARGH!!! OF THE YEAR

Winner = Gordon Brown
Last Year’s Winner = H.O.R.S.E Final

With us Brits chuckling away to ourselves as the American’s continue to struggle against their online poker ban and the foreboding implementation of the Unlawful Internet Gambling Enforcement Act, little did we know that newly instated prime minister Gordon Brown would be looking to enforce his own backwards views here in Blighty. As a nation that likes to boast liberty with gambling, poker and other such recreations, it was a giant kick in the balls to Manchester when the SuperCasino bill finally met defeat in the House of Lords.

(6) MYSTERY OF THE YEAR

Winner = Vinnie Vinh
Last year’s winner = Jon Hewston’s mystery chip

The Vegas desert is rumoured to conceal its fair share of secrets, but when the unpredictable Vinnie Vinh failed to turn up to Day 2 of a WSOP event, many feared that he might have joined the long line of dead bodies under the sandy surface. Having held the chip lead, Vinnie’s absence led to his chair becoming the first chair in WSOP history to make the money when it finished in 20th place for $16,212, a quite remarkable feat for an inanimate object, although Chris Ferguson may be in the running for that title.

If you thought this was an isolated case, then think again, as not only did Vinnie fail to appear on yet another Day 2, but he also went AWOL come Main Event time and had to be rescheduled onto another starting day. Drugs, gangsters, debts – who knows, but several months on, and the erratic behaviour of Mr Vinh remains a mystery that not even Columbo could unravel.

(7) UK VENUE OF THE YEAR

Winner = Dusk Till Dawn
Last year’s winner = The Broadway Casino, Birmingham

After battling not only the courts, but opposition in the form of the big casino chains, Dusk Till Dawn finally triumphed and was granted permission to open their doors to the public. They may only have been open for a couple of months, but DTD is already regarded as poker’s capital, with superb services, friendly, eager to assist staff and a fine monthly tournament that is comfortably attracting three figure fields. Now, if only they could move it to nearer me…

(8) EUROPEAN VENUE OF THE YEAR

Winner = Hyatt Regency, Warsaw
Last year’s winner = Casino Barriere, Deauville

It may have been expensive, but with spacious rooms, a walk in shower, and pillows that were actually stuffed with feathers rather than cement, it was a joy to stay in the Hyatt Regency in Warsaw. A little gem in what El Blondie described as an ‘urban jungle’, the cardroom was brimming with atmosphere and helped the Polish EPT become one of the most enjoyable events to cover thus far.

(9) TOURNAMENT OF THE YEAR

Winner = Irish Poker Open
Last year’s winner = Amsterdam Master Classics

It may not have found its home in terms of venue, but when it comes to ‘the craic’, the Irish Poker Open never lets you down. Whilst Padraig, Jesse and co rejoiced spectators with barside tales, in excess of 700 poker fanatics battled it out for one of the year’s most esteemed prizes.

(10) ONLINE SITE OF THE YEAR

Winner = PokerStars
Last year’s winner = PokerStars

They may be lacking competition from their fellow countrymen, but the PokerStars team continue to dominate the online world with their superior software, excellent customer service and superb range of tournaments. Forever looking to improve and move forward, PokerStars always seem one step head of their rivals, and I wouldn’t be surprised to see them lapping up this title once again next year.

(11) HAND OF THE YEAR

Winner = Dublin EPT: Mallu vs. Mestre
Last year’s winner = HSP: Hansen vs. Negreanu

To quote a paragraph from a recent Flush article I penned…

“Elsewhere, the ghostly figure of Ali Mallu had returned to haunt his foes once more, the nefarious Brit accidentally revealing his Aces pre-flop before shoving all the chips in against J-9 on a J-9-5 flop. A Five on the river left one Spaniard aghast whilst proving that (1) Mallu was back to his old tricks and (2) this event was going to be much more entertaining than first imagined. “I read him for Aces,” commented a mischievous De Wolfe, much to his own amusement.”

(12) DOH! OF THE YEAR

Winner = TheV0id
Last year’s winner = JJProdigy

Following in the multi-accounting of his award winning predecessor, WCOOP victor TheV0id found himself disqualified from the tournament after it was found that he/she had used multiple accounts to partake in the event. Rumoured to be former EPT winner Mark Teltscher, the $1.3 million was confiscated from TheV0id’s account making the real winner ka$ino, with Vanessa ‘LadyMaverick’ Russo being elevated into second. If I could vote for myself, then surely Null & TheVoid would be a worthy victor of pun of the year?

(13) SCANDAL OF THE YEAR

Winner = Absolute Poker
New category

Ever dreamed of seeing someone else’s cards whilst playing, well now you can, well, someone could. Around September time, rumour was spreading like wildfire that something was amiss at Absolute, and after sightings were reported of players correctly calling bets with ridiculously weak hands, ears began to perk up and investigations were made. Following a series of hazy announcements, it appeared as though it had been an inside job involving people who dealt in the daily running of the cardroom. It then emerged that Ali Mallu had been playing and the case was cleared. Okay, I made that bit up.

(14) CELEBRITY BANDWAGON JUMPER OF THE YEAR

Winner = Boris Becker
New category

If there’s one thing that annoys me, it’s when celebrities jump on the poker bandwagon in search of the dollar without possessing any genuine interest in the game. Now and again we spot players like Tony Cascarino and Michael Greco who are truly passionate about the game, but in general, they’re mostly in it for a quick buck to be earned through easy sponsorship, freebies and ‘celebrity’ (cough) events.

So, considering my disdain for the ugly combination of celebrity and poker, imagine how far my shoulders dropped when I heard news of Boris Becker’s impending sponsorship. A legend in his own right, Boris’ skills at the felt are said to be limited, and I once heard a story in which he boasted of how much he knew about poker, but when he was dealt his cards, subsequently asked, “Where are the other three?”

(15) BLOG OF THE YEAR

Winner = Pauly Maguire: Tao of Poker
Last year’s winner = Ed Hollis: 88% Concentration

There are some cracking blogs out there these days: Hard-Boiled Poker, Wicked Chops Poker, The Hit Squad, UKGatsby, but there is one man’s ramblings that have really stood the test of time.

Highly respected in the States, Dr Pauly’s ‘Tao of Poker’ has been entertaining the poker community for over four years now with its continual dose of ringside observations from the poker circuit. His quirky humour, brutal honesty and natural writing talent make this a must read for all poker fans.

(15) UNSPONSORED PLAYER OF THE YEAR

Winner = Ian Cox
Last year’s winner = Stuart Fox

My birth year, 1981, was the year of the cock (shut it, you!), but 2007 truly was the year of the Cox. In just 12 months, Ian cashed 14 times including final table appearances at the London EPT, Plymouth GUKPT, GUKPT Grand Final and the Sussex Masters, as well as televised finals in the Ladbrokes Poker Million and the Party Poker World Open. In fact, the only thing he got wrong this year was a rather suspect moustache and beard combo that emerged near the end, although I’m certainly not in a position to comment.

(16) CRIKEY! OF THE YEAR

Winner = Chip Reese
Last year’s winner = Vicky Coren

There are many moments in poker that leave you aghast, but the passing of Chip Reese on December 4th was one of the most shocking. A legend of his time and considered by many to be the greatest player that ever lived, Chip died peacefully in his sleep from the effects of pneumonia. R.I.P.

(17) BRAVO OF THE YEAR

Winner = Jonathan ‘AlrightJack’ Raab
Last year’s winner = Arshad Hussain

As one of the driving forces behind the GUKPT, Jonathan put British Poker firmly on the map by quickly establishing a popular and well-run Tour that spanned the nation from Newcastle right down to Plymouth. The creator of such innovations like the Poker 6, the Unusual Suspects and praise silence…. the Cheeky Vimto, Jonathan has done his utmost to make this game great and is thus worthy of the plaudits he receives.

(18) WSOP HERO OF THE YEAR

Winner = Jon ‘Skalie’ Kalmar
Last year’s winner = John Gale

In what was a dismal year for Brits at the World Series, one rags to riches story emerged in the form of Jon Kalmar, the former punk rocker having hit rock bottom before taking one final stab at a Main Event satellite. A fortnight later and he’s seated at the final table and wondering what the champagne will be like in first class. Worth the award for being the first player to wear a Family Guy T-shirt at the final table.

(19) RISING STAR OF THE YEAR

Winner = Ben Vinson
Last year’s winner = Zahir ‘Zippy’ Aslam

Son of Alan, Ben is being touted as a star of the future. With a cash in the Cardiff GUKPT, a 3rd in Blackpool and a 4th in the Grand Final, he’s certainly heading in the right direction. A cool cucumber with his pinstripe suits and designer hair-dos, it looks like Ben will be wooing the ladies as well as the cards come 2008.

(20) PLAYER OF THE YEAR

Winner = Julian ‘Yoyo’ Thew
Last year’s winner = Roland De Wolfe

In the provocative words of Britney, “Oops, I did it again.” After a fruitless first six months, Golden Yoyo Balls took the circuit by storm in the second half, taking down a GUKPT and EPT title in quick succession to leave both wallet and wife very happy indeed.

(21) EUROPEAN PLAYER OF THE YEAR

Winner = Annette ‘Annette_15’ Obrestad
New category

She may be smaller than an oompa loompa, but she can beat up opponents like Lennox Lewis on speed and has proved that she can successfully translate her ever-blossoming online career onto the live scene. Although finishing 2nd in the Dublin EPT, her crowning achievement was fending off one of the toughest pound for pound fields ever compiled to become the inaugural WSOPE Champion.

And that’s a wrap, folks!

Stick a fork in me...

(24) CHALLENGE OVER

2008-01-28T15:16:00.000-08:00

Very depressed at the moment. Just dropped another grand. Bad cards, bad play, no complaints really, didn't deserve to win. I made a cracking play for my an $880 pot, but still managed to blow the lot unnecessarily. After taking out some money the other day, I now have nothing in my account. Apparently my deposit limit has been reached so that is the end of that.

It's a pretty sad way to end the challenge as not only does it mean that I failed miserably, but also that I won't be going to Drogheda or Walsall, I just can't justify playing in either event after my absymal run over the last few days. It's incredible how it can all come crashing down, but I have to be honest with myself, however much it hurts.

Still, I'm alive, healthy and have a beautiful girlfriend, so can't moan. I don't think the tax bill has been taken out of my bank account yet, so I'll wait until that happens before deciding on my next step. Other bills remain a worry, so I'm not sure when I'll be able to hit the tables again, probably when I receive my rake next week.

What I can say, is that when I do, I'll have learned from experience these last 24 days and use it to my advantage. I still somehow made a profit from the challenge, so I shouldn't be too negative. Also, I firmly believe that if I can be more disciplined in when I play, how long I play, and so on, then I can cut out those big losing days and make a decent profit. I certainly don't intend to give up. When I am feeling better, perhaps in a week or two, I'll evaluate the challenge more thorougly.

I don't want to end on a sour note, so here's the good call/raise I made today when I was winning and playing well.

GAME #819456924: Texas Hold'em NL $2.00/$4.00 2008-01-28 19:33:22
Table Dorado (Heads Up)
Seat 3: Villain ($391.00 in chips)
Seat 8: Hero ($751.20 in chips) DEALER
Hero: Post SB $2.00
Villain: Post BB $4.00
*** HOLE CARDS ***
Dealt to Hero [Ac Js]
Dealt to Villain [8h 8d]
Hero: Call $2.00
Villain: Raise $12.00
Hero: Call $12.00
*** FLOP *** [6s 3s 5s]
Villain: Bet $22.00
Hero: Raise $44.00
Villain: Raise $55.00
Hero: Call $33.00
*** TURN *** [Jc]
Villian: Bet $120.00
Hero: Raise $658.20
Villain: Allin $178.00
*** RIVER *** [4h]
*** SUMMARY ***
Total pot $1,141.20 Rake $1.00
Hero: wins $1,141.20

biggest pot won: $880.00
biggest pot lost: $400.00
time at the table: 4hr 36 min

profit = - $1,070.42
blonde poker account = $2,715.08
Profit = $1,400.08
$2,284.92 before the taxman goes away

Days played = 24
total time played = 80 hrs 27 mins
total rake earned = $860.85

current $ per hour = $17.40
current $ per day = $58.33.

(23) GUS HANSEN'S TRANSEXUAL MOTHER

2008-01-27T10:32:00.000-08:00

The hardest part of this challenge has been juggling playing online with my other responsibilities as a poker journalist and boyfriend, there just aren't enough hours in the day and if I focus too much time on one, I end up neglecting the other. With my work, this isn't the end of the world, but when it's my role as boyfriend it can not only cause problems, but also result in a poor performance at the tables.

Having to live up to expectations is new to me. I'd become accustomed to playing when I wanted, as often as I wanted without having to worry about anyone else, but now I don't have that option and so must balance my non-poker duties more effectively. I've never really had to care for anyone else but myself before, so it's hard to change sometimes.

I still suffer from mood swings depending on my results. I think because I lost so much yesterday and have a multitude of bills to pay have added to the stress. If I was rich and lost $2.5k, I wouldn't care, I'd look at the overall picture, but it makes a difference when the money is part of your survival, which is why I so vastly admire those who grind out a living playing this game.

Today in particular I realised that even though I was maintaining a healthy lifestyle, my emotional relationship with my girlfriend was in danger of deteriorating, both because of the time I was spending online (both work and play) and my downbeat mood after losing.

Today was split into two sessions: pre-argument and post-argument. This morning I felt I played well, but suffered two nasty coolers and ended up losing $400. Also, I felt the standard play was stronger today, so I’m not sure if playing during the day on a Sunday is a wise move.

In the evening, I played a better game and was free from the concerns of my relationship, but still only managed a $50 profit leaving with me with a $350 loss for the week. This game keeps knocking me down, but I’ll just have to get back up again.

I came across this drunk guy today. He overbet all his hands with pretty much any two cards, and prior to my realising that something was amiss, managed to fluke $200 off me. I then doubled up when he bet $88 into a $22 pot and an A-J-Q-J-K board. I pushed all-in for $450 with K-J and he called with T-2. At this point I got rather excited and started chatting with him in the chatbox in order to keep him happy. I didn't get much more out of him after that, but we did enjoy the most bizarre exchange of dialogue I've encountered thus far. I have of course changed the monikers to something more suitable. Finally, it should be noted that this is condensed chat. Mr Reed folded one hand after saying he would make it $50, so I felt justified in my final move.

Mr Reed inexplicably moves all-in for $750…

Oliver Reed: ops missclick
Barman Beagle: lol
Barman Beagle: what did u have
Oliver Reed: had t8o
Oliver Reed: lol
Oliver Reed: wops
And then it all becomes clear…

Oliver Reed: im drunk didt saw pair lool
Our Barman Beagle suddenly seems more interested in chatting…

Barman Beagle: lucky river
Barman Beagle: for me
Barman Beagle: where r u from?
Oliver Reed: for me too i though lol
Oliver Reed: Europe

Blimey, I think I’ve been there…

Oliver Reed: u
Barman Beagle: uk
Barman Beagle: u english?
Oliver Reed: no
Barman Beagle: not welsh?
Oliver Reed: 1 i know now im drunk lol
Barman Beagle: france?
Oliver Reed: ugadabugada

Oh yes, of course, ugadabugada, that was my next guess.

Barman Beagle: ah - nice country
Barman Beagle: went there last week
Oliver Reed: y pretty sick
Oliver Reed: im gus mother
Oliver Reed: so sick isnt it
Barman Beagle: Gus Hansen?
Oliver Reed: ofc
Oliver Reed: hes a fish i learn him

Haven’t we all, in fact I learned him just last week.

Barman Beagle: he lives in monte carlo
Barman Beagle: although danish i think
Oliver Reed: hes from mozambik
Oliver Reed: i bring him

No, no, I don’t want to play Gus, I want to play you, my new best friend.

Barman Beagle: yes, the Danish region
Oliver Reed: he didnt know whos his father to now
Barman Beagle: what do you mean?
Oliver Reed: i am bluffing him all life
Oliver Reed: and my husband too lol
Barman Beagle: you mean you are his father and you haven't told him?
Oliver Reed: anyway
Barman Beagle: like in Star Wars

I knew Gus had his secrets, but imagine how big the 2+2 thread would be once this gets out. 50 pages I reckon!

Oliver Reed: im his mother
Barman Beagle: u can't be both
Oliver Reed: was father then i changed sex

100 pages!

Barman Beagle: fair enough
Oliver Reed: and invitro
Barman Beagle: you kinda look male still tho
Barman Beagle: with the suit and everything
Oliver Reed: strings

Sorry?

Oliver Reed: only now
Barman Beagle: what strings?
Oliver Reed: striing bikini

Of course.

Oliver Reed: winy winny string bikini

Nurse!

Oliver Reed: gimme another beer 1 sec

Wait there, let me hold open the fridge door for you.

Oliver Reed: ok lets go 50 in the dark next hand preflop then check to the end?

Er...

Barman Beagle: how do i know you'll check though?
Oliver Reed: u in?
Oliver Reed: i will
Oliver Reed: i promise
Barman Beagle: but i don't know you

Mr Reed has been overbetting every hand with random cards and all the time we’ve been chatting I’ve been dealt the worst run of cards I’ve ever experienced as he continues to make it 30 or so dollars pre-flop every hand with blinds of $2/4. However, on this occasion, although suspicious, I have an Ace and am in position so decide to see what happens. I also want to keep him happy so he doesn’t bugger off.

Barman Beagle: Okay, why not.

Mr Reed proceeds to flop the nut straight with 7-5 and, as was his word, checks it down.

Oliver Reed: so sick
Barman Beagle: nh
Oliver Reed: ty
Barman Beagle: so sick that u flopped str8
Oliver Reed: ok next hand 100 pre flop check to the end?

Crikey, now this is getting expensive.

Oliver Reed: next hand 100?
Barman Beagle: 100 is a lot
Barman Beagle: 50?
Oliver Reed: ok

In the small blind I find a good hand again and type $50 in the raise box, confident that he will call with any two and check it down because… well, he’s insane.

Oliver Reed: 50 not 52 The bet came out as 52, and he folded! Talk about nit-picking.

Barman Beagle: fold?
Barman Beagle: lol
Oliver Reed: next or now?
Barman Beagle: don't mind
Oliver Reed: lets next then

Here we go again, this time he flops the third nut flush with J-Ts and, again, checks it down. This is bizarre.

Oliver Reed: so sick:)
Barman Beagle: wow
Barman Beagle: incredible
Oliver Reed: lady luck
Barman Beagle: weird
Oliver Reed: if u wanna try my nut again just say when

I beg your pardon?

Barman Beagle: what do u mean?
Oliver Reed: 50 again next hand ?

Look, I just want your money!

Oliver Reed: i guess ill have nuts on flop again

I agree to this $50 game, realising that it’s a coinflip, but will at least keep him at the table. Frustratingly, he makes the nut flush, although he did have to wait till the Turn this time.

Oliver Reed: on turn now

Barman Beagle: oh my god Hopefully now this silly game is behind us and I can just take his money by waiting for a hand.

Oliver Reed: lets go every hand?
Oliver Reed: 5 in a row?

Argh!!!

Barman Beagle: brilliant
Oliver Reed: cmon
Barman Beagle: u keep winning

Naturally, I decide that raising to $50 each hand and checking it down isn’t particularly +ev.

Oliver Reed: why u folded
Oliver Reed: no more?
Barman Beagle: can't do em every hand
Barman Beagle: I quite like normal play
Barman Beagle: lol
Oliver Reed: no more 50 u mean?
Barman Beagle: why not just 20 every hand?
Oliver Reed: booring

Hey, I’m scintillating! You have the advantage of being pissed.

Oliver Reed: ok im leaving say how much for the end u can get
back all my 50s

Nooooo. Please stay. You are Gus Hansen’s transsexual sole parent. I believe you!

Barman Beagle: how do you mean?
Oliver Reed: how much for the last next hand im leaving
Barman Beagle: 20?
Oliver Reed: ok
Oliver Reed: real last

Queens!!! Right, what the hell do I do here, do I stay true to my word and check it down? Nahhhh.

Oliver Reed: wtf

Let’s re-raise all-in.

Barman Beagle: gambling
Oliver Reed: ffs
Oliver Reed: bye

Bugger!

biggest pot won: $906.00
biggest pot lost: $400.00
time at the table: 6hr 13 min

profit = - $356.70
blonde poker account = $3,785.50
$1,214.50 before the taxman goes away

Days played = 23
total time played = 75 hrs 51 mins
total rake earned = $860.85

current $ per hour = $32.77
current $ per day = $108.07

(22) DISASTER

2008-01-26T11:27:00.001-08:00

Well, I commented that the blog was in danger of becoming boring, so I guess here's the rollercoaster that draws so many to BlueScouse. Today I lost $2,265.29.

I'm very demoralised at the moment. I can handle losing, it's just that it makes things a lot more difficult than they were yesterday. Basically, Drogheda is pretty much out of the question now, which is a big disappointment as I wanted to play a 50k event. I played for almost six hours today cooped up in my room like a hermit, so Dana hates me. Most worringly, though, it makes paying bills difficult. I posted my tax bill of £2,465.01 just now to make sure it's out of the way and paid for, but I also have other money problems to worry about, such as paying the rent, council tax, car tax, telephone bill, accountacy fee, a holdiay in Chicago, all of which are going to mean I have to keep playing to survive. I have so many transactions hovering in cyber space and several invoices in need of paying, that I barely know how much money I have at the moment, but losing over a grand in pound sterling isn't something I can afford to do.

However, I've been here before, so I must look a the positives:

(1) I'm bruised and battered, but don't feel too depressed, kind of relieved in fact that I'm not playing anymore. Just closing the table is like a weight off my shoulders and I can focus on starting a fresh and winning money again. It's almost as if I felt I had to get that loss out of my system, and now I have to learn from it and move on.

(2) I am due some rakeback which will surely be near the $1k mark. This will soften the blow somewhat. Unfortunately, it won't aid my challenge as I finish on the 31st of the month and the rakeback gets paid on the first Sunday of February, but it will at least be a nice reward to look forward to. It's wierd, even when you're losing thousands at the table, the thought that you are at least creating rake is bizarrely comforting.

(3) The challenge is not out of sight. I've still got 5 days to earn $858.80 which is $214.7 per day (excluding Monday when I said I'd take Dana ice-skating). If I play my 'A' game again, I can achieve that.

(4) If I'd have known that after 22 days, I'd be on $4,142.20, then I probably would have taken it. It's distressing in the fact that the last week and all the hours I've put in have gone to waste, but poker is full of ups and downs, no one's perfect, and I need to look at the overall picture, which is that I have proved that after a short time learning the game, I am capable of winning at heads-up. If I can just eliminate these black days where I dump four figure sums, then I believe I can make a decent living out of the game.

Okay, I'm doing my best to remain confident, but it's not easy. I didn't eat up until a few moments ago, so I need to make sure that my diet remains good. Also, no getting lazy and going to bed late, missing meals, not going on my runs, etc. I need to take the hit on the chin and continue as normal. I've got to keep an eye on my work load too and make sure I keep up to date with articles, blonde poker, etc. This challenge would be so much easier if I didn't have a regular job to attend to.

The next few days are going to be tough mentally, mainly because of the bills that need paying over the upcoming weeks. This is the first time ever in my life that they've really concerned me. I can take not having a bankroll, but worrying about bills is something that I always intended to avoid.

biggest pot won: $937.40
biggest pot lost: $276.00
time at the table: 5hr 54 min

profit = - $2,265.29
blonde poker account = $4,142.20
$858.80 before the taxman goes away

Days played = 22
total time played = 69 hrs 38 mins
total rake earned = $860.85

current $ per hour = $40.82
current $ per day = $129.19

(21) ARABIAN KNIGHTMARE

2008-01-25T17:24:00.000-08:00

Again, nothing too scintillating to report, but I guess that's what grinding out a living is all about, and to be honest, I'm perfectly happy with maintaining momentum and winning a few hundred a day. As long as I can pay my bills, buy into a few major tournaments and continue enjoying what is basically a pretty easy life, that's fine by me.

Today I started $250 down, but got it all back against some loosey goosey French dude. He took a $40 bite out me on the first hand, so when I was dealt Pocket Kings on the next hand, I re-raised all-in for a big overbet hoping he'd think I was tilting and call with Jacks, A-K, etc. He didn't call in the end, but he used up his entire clock before saying, "Tu jou comment". Anyone know what that means?

After a while, it became obvious that he was a very weak player, playing too many hands and calling down too many bets, so I sat back and remained patient, whilst still making bluffs into small pots that I knew were going to be called just so he didn't notice that I'd rocked up. I eventually cleaned him out when I pushed all-in for way over the pot with A-K on a 9-T-Q-J board. He somehow called with 8-7 and that was that. Before I could ask "plus?" in the chatbox he was gone, and I was left to count my money and add my new penpal to my buddy list.

It didn't all go my way today though, as the first guy was a nightmare. I just couldn't get going against him and it took me ages to find my feet. The game was pretty slow, so I started speaking to him in the chatbox and learned that he was from Bahrain where, of course, they are famed for their poker.

At one point I was starting to pull some of my deficit back, when he suddenly announced that he was going to finish in 15 minutes. I then frantically found myself raising a lot more and trying to get back to even before he left. Of course, my overly aggressive style won me a few blinds, but once he found a hand, he took a load back off me.

This got me to wondering, can a 15 minute warning be used as a strategy? If am beating someone and can see that perhaps they are becoming slightly frustrated, is it worth saying "Last few hands for me" or "Gotta go in ten"? I think this might make them play faster in a bid to get their chips back before you leave and hopefully lead to more mistakes being made. You might just be bollocking and have no intention of leaving the table, but I reckon I'm gonna give it a go and see if it makes a difference. I believe the chatbox is a real weapon in heads-up and something I'll be investigating further.

You may notice that I haven't put in too many hours of late, but that's not just due to laziness, but because the tables have been rather dry. Therefore, I seem to spend much of my time sitting at tables waiting, making the actual playing time just a couple of hours. I could play the regulars or pursue the maximum sit-down players, but it doesn't seem to be +ve unless I have extensive notes on them. The optimum strategy for me as an individual seems to be to wait around until someone sits with around half my stack. This means that they can get lucky, double up and still lack a chip advantage. Also, I find these players tend to rack off more, as in when they get down to a certain amount, instead of refilling like the max sitdown dudes do, they just start searching for opportunies to shovel it in with a marginal hand. I call this the 'cracking point' as many players begin to crack at say $50, $100, etc and start racking off.

Still need to update my players notes, some familair names are starting to crop up and I find myself scrambling through my notes trying to find out if I should be playing them or not. If I add them to my spreadsheet of players, it makes it a whole lot easier.

Tomorrow will hopefully be a lucrative day, so I may put in more hours. I won nearly a grand last Saturday, so fingers crossed that I can repeat that score and exceed the $7k mark. Ireland is only a couple of weeks away, and I still want to raise enough money to play the Main Event from my poker winnings. Also there's the cost of expenses, but hopefully $500-$1k rakeback will help with that.

biggest pot won: $485.00
biggest pot lost: $276.00
time at the table: 2hr 13min

profit = $229.20
blonde poker account = $6,407.49
-$1,407.49 to go before the tax man comes back

Days played = 21
total time played = 63 hrs 44 mins
total rake earned = $860.85

current $ per hour = $78.73
current $ per day = $238.93

(20) YOU SPIN ME RIGHT ROUND

2008-01-24T17:55:00.000-08:00

Ever since I ambushed the heads up tables a few months ago, there have only been two types of players that have fleeced me for all I have. One is the experienced, aggressive player that I should have avoided, and the other is the totally unpredictable Limit player who has an infuriating habit of min betting every street, refusing to fold, and then betting over the pot when you least expect it.

In the past, the latter of those two has always been beatable, but too often their unorthodox play, and perhaps a little good fortune, has bamboozled me to the point of tilt. If I get beaten by some muppet who got lucky, then I find it a lot more manageable, but if it's a guy who is min betting left, right and centre and causing my brain to melt, I just feel like exploding.

The big error I make with these guys is not studying their game enough. Frequently I'll lose my patience and just call them down with bottom pair, only to find they have me beat come the river. I end up paying them off way too much for what is a weak hand, and then find myself having to grind my way back up to what I had before. After a few hands like these, those $4 really add up and you find yourself refilling more often than you realise. Also, I tend to assume that they're fish, just because they're min betting all the time. However, this isn't always true, and if they have their wits about them, they can pray on this by altering their game slightly and start bluffing more strategically.

For instance, what do you do if your opponent is min-raising almost every hand pre-flop from the button and then betting $4 on the Flop? With $4 already in, it's hard to fold pre-flop, and again on the Flop, what if you have bottom pair? Can you fold for another $4? How about re-raising? You're out of position and many of these types of players tend to be calling stations to an extent, so often call the re-raise and then min bet the Turn. Do you call again? Where does it end? What about the River? What do you if they suddenly decide to bet big and you have something like top pair?

Well, as you can imagine, my naive approach to these players, many of whom are actually better than their bizzare betting patterns might suggest, has cost me at times, way too much money. But, recently, I've been able to confront them with a more level head, studying their play more carefully and working out my best strategy. I ultimately decided that I'm best folding weak hands pre-flop. Most of the time they are unlikely to hit, and I don't want to be calling off a total of $12 down the streets with something like king high. Instead, I've been ensuring that I stick to connecting cards or hands that have more potential. I can't be calling with 9-3o, hitting a 3 and then just calling him down. Also, the chances are that I'll miss and then just fold to his continuation bet, meaning another $4 wasted.

I think position is the key with these guys, meaning that making that pre-flop out of position fold for just an extra $4 becomes a +ve move. I want to be playing each street in position, and if I do decide to make a re-raise, then I'll at least be able to see what he does on the Turn at which point I'd hope to know what his Turn action means and how I can utilise that information.

Most of the time, I can pick out enough patterns in their play to adjust my game accordingly. Today, however, I found it virtually impossible. Sitting with $400, I was joined by a min-bettor whose betting patterns were simply unfathomable. They were so confusing, that I almost concluded them to be random.

About 65% of the time, he'd bet $4, 20% he'd check, 10% he'd make a normal pot raise or slight overbet, 3% of the time he'd push all-in unprovoked and 2% of the time he'd min check-raise. I tested out all of these different variants, and he held monsters on some occasions, and nothing on others. It was simply mind-boggling and I seemed unable to garner any decisive tells on the decisions he made.

I recall him shoving all-in early doors for $350 with virtually nothing in the pot. I assumed he had the nuts and folded. However, he did this a number of times, too many for it to be continual nuts in fact, and I started to become suspicious. However, having the nuts frequently isn't impossible, so if he pushes all-in for so much, and you have two pair, how can you justify calling? One hand I'd Turned a straight and bet it out, knowing that there was a good chance that he was calling all the way. He did indeed call, but when the River paired the board, he pushed all-in for everything I had. Having been beaten up by his constant min betting and casual all-ins, I was so close to calling, but eventually folded, knowing that if he was making these moves with non-nuts, then sooner or later I'd catch him at it with a stronger hand than a straight. These are probably the hands I would have called once though, if only through frustration.

After a while, I was dismayed to see that I'd somehow dumped $300 to this bloke, the pots never exceeding the $100 mark. Whatever I did, I just couldn't get a good read on him, and I couldn't seem to decipher if it was because he was playing me like a fiddle, or was actually pissing about and just being lucky. At one point, I did start grinding it back to around $200 down, but we hovered around that mark for ages, so I never felt like I'd genuinely got the better of him.

Finally and after about 90 minutes of play, I caught the fucker. On a 6-K-Q-6-6 board and with just $88 in the pot, he made an out of position all-in push for $389.80 with K-J and I called with 6-7. That hand that I'd been waiting for had finally arrived, and it resulted in a nice, tasty $866.60 pot going the Beagle's way. I knew it would come sooner or later, I just didn't expect it to be quads.

Anyway, I left that table wondering if I'd been lucky to find quads, or just had my patience inevitably rewarded. I never felt like I had him sussed at any point, but at the same time, knew if I did Flop a set against an overpair or something, he was liable to make that ridiculous all-in push. In a way, it's a shame, because I really wanted to break him down gradually, work out where I should be folding, raising, etc and grind him down to nothing. Don't get me wrong, I was overjoyed that he presented his stack to me, but I think it may have been slightly more satisfying to correctly assess his play and clean him out bit by bit.

I once saw an episode of Games Master where a Japanese dude was taking on 100 of Britain's best Virtual Fighter players. They all stood in a line, and he played them one-by-one in a best of three bout. Before the show had ended, he'd beaten the lot, every single one. In the post-match interview, he claimed that the toughest players were actually the ones that weren't particularly good at the game because they were so much more unpredictable than the others. He wasn't used to the decisions they made, and it threw him off his guard and caused him to make mistakes. However, he still beat them in the end, even if their unpredictability had taken the odd round off him. Let's hope I can do the same in heads-up poker.

biggest pot won: $866.60
biggest pot lost: $136.00
time at the table: 1hr 38min

profit = $405.08
blonde poker account = $6,188.29
-$1,188.29 to go before the tax man comes back

Days played = 20
total time played = 61 hrs 31 mins
total rake earned = $860.85

current $ per hour = $79.46
current $ per day = $244.41

(19) IN FOR A QUICKIE

2008-01-24T06:28:00.000-08:00

A no thrills update today because (1) I'm going to Dana's gig tonight and so need to get some work done pronto, (2) I prefer to pen updates on the night rather worry about it the following day and (3) I can't remember what the feck happened yesterday anyhow.

Will post today's results later tonight, but for now, here are the scores on the doors after yesterday's session:

biggest pot won: $252.50
biggest pot lost: $280.30
time at the table: 2hr 1min

profit = $243.15
blonde poker account = $5,783.21
-$783.21 to go before the tax man comes back

Days played = 19
total time played = 59 hrs 53 mins
total rake earned = $860.85
current $ per hour = $74.87
current $ per day = $235.96

(18) CUCUMBERS & FONZ

2008-01-23T10:06:00.000-08:00

If you kidnapped the Fonz, lodged him in a fridge jam-packed with cucumbers and shipped him off to the North Pole, he still wouldn't be as cool as the cold deck I experienced yesterday. I always think a cooler's more entertaining than a bad beat, especially when your opponent calls a chunky pre-flop re-raise with T-7o and Flops Quad Tens to put your Pocket Kings in all sorts of bother.

Of course, that hand cleaned me out and didn't equate to the best of starts, but whilst previously I may have lost my head and subsequently relegated myself to playing a 'B' game, recently I've learnt to brush it aside easier and continue to play to the best of my ability. Also, I recognised that my opponent was a weak player, so remained patient and, thank the Poker Gods, eventually cleaned him out for a tidy profit.

I've learnt recently that my game seems to be best suited to taking on players who sit with less than me, even 50% or below. Variance can always give a weak player a double up, but if you have an edge and a consistent chip advantage, then more often than not, you will finish them off in one big pot that includes what they initially took off you. For them to get lucky and double up twice is very rare.

A dirty technique that I've noticed recently is that if you want to assure yourself of a game, then there's no reason why you can't sit down on as many tables as possible. What's even filthier is if you then join all the tables of the other sharks waiting for opposition and then just sit out. Moooohahaha, the Beagle moves in mysterious ways, but sometimes the action is just so dry and I'm a sucker for temptation.

I've been meaning to update my player notes, but they've been piling up on my desk for a while now and are starting to look intimidating. I also had a deadline to meet for WPT Magazine. If you don't already know, I write a monthly article for their mag and this month's piece was on Ed 'BlueScouse' Hollis and his highly popular blog, 88% Concentration. I won't go into details about the article, but it should be an interesting read for all you fellow bloggers if you get a chance to read it.

Re-reading through the Ed Hollis story (Christ Almighty, that was a trudge), it did make me realise how boring my blog might be. At the moment, I'm just tootling along a few hundred bucks at a time. No big swings, no going bust, no feeling suicidal - is this lack of Hollis-esque excitement off-putting? I hope not, but I understand why it might be. This is one of the reasons why I try and discuss some of my strategies. I'm still pretty new to heads-up, so raising such issues helps me think about them fully and hopefully makes for an eye-opening read to anyone else looking to play heads-up.

Everything's peachy at the moment. Hopefully, all being well, I'm on the way to buying into the Green Joke Poker deepstack event in February. Not counting my chickens just yet though...

biggest pot won: $456.40
biggest pot lost: $404.32
time at the table: 2hr 53min

profit = $303.72
blonde poker account = $5,540.06
-$540.06 to go before the tax man comes back

Days played = 18
total time played = 57 hrs 52 mins
total rake earned = $860.85
current $ per hour = $73.27
current $ per day = $235.56

(17) HEE-HAW

2008-01-21T15:57:00.000-08:00

GAME #808887351: Texas Hold'em NL $2.00/$4.00 2008-01-21 15:10:44
Table Dorado (Heads Up)
Seat 3: Buggered Villian ($407.60 in chips) DEALER
Seat 8: Lucky Hero ($482.00 in chips)
betis3: Post SB $2.00
Buggered Villian: Post BB $4.00
*** HOLE CARDS ***
Dealt to Buggered Villian [Qs-Qh]
Dealt to Lucky Hero [4s-5h]
Buggered Villian: Raise $12.00
Lucky Hero: Raise $40.00
Buggered Villian: Call $30.00
*** FLOP *** [8h-4c-8d]
Lucky Hero: Bet $70.00
Buggered Villian: Raise $165.00
Lucky Hero: Raise $344.00
Buggered Villian: Allin $198.60
*** TURN *** [4d]
*** RIVER *** [Ad]
*** SUMMARY ***
Total pot $864.60 Rake $1.00
Lucky Hero: wins $864.60

If I'm going to post hands where I've made a good call, then I'd better publish the ones where I donned a leather saddle and hee-hawed like the world's biggest donkey. Of course, there's often a lot of history to the hands, but I still made a big boo boo here and desevered to be taken out back and beaten like a government mule. I put him on Pocket Nines at best and believed he was good enough to fold, but, well, he kinda had slightly better. Ah well, shit happens, although I somehow resisted typing that in the chatbox.

This dude was actually a pretty good player, and I have no shame in admitting that I basically hit and run his ass. I tried to fold a few hands so it looked less obvious, but he swiftly questioned my untimely departure as soon as I sat out. I always remember Phil Ivey saying, "Don't quit just because you're winning or losing, quit when you start making mistakes" and I think this was one of those times, so I called it a day.

Hypocritically, it pisses me off when people bend you over, slip one up your exit hole and then scarper straight after without so much as a goodbye, or, when I was a promiscuous lad (yeah, right!), a "have you seen my beer goggles?", but I can also understand the reasoning. For most of the people I play, I think it's that they're gamblers and just want to double up and bugger off, but for me it was simply that I recognised he was a good player and that I was wasting my time. I even told him in the chatbox that I thought he was probably better than me, if only to stop him from following me around in a fit of anger.

From my short experience in the heads-up arena, I've found recognising when you're outclassed is of the utmost importance. Too many people get caught up in trying to beat their opponent instead of looking to make a profit, they just can't handle the feeling that they are simply not as good, but pride shouldn't really get in the way of making money. Luckily, this is one of the characteristics that the superior players can prey upon, especially if they have the gift of the gab and know how to wind up their opponents or, at the very least, are able to persuade them to stay and keep refilling.

Anyhow, I'm back over my target, which is cool. Let's just hope I can keep my head above sea level this time. I was quite jealous watching the live updates in Brighton because although online cash is my bread and butter, there is little if no glory in it, unlike tournament poker where egos can develop and enjoy the warmth of the spotlight. Cash can be so repetitive sometimes too and an end isn't always in sight, which is why setting myself challenges like this is so useful. Tournaments, however, possess a survival 'last man standing' that I find quite exciting and I doubt any cash game could echo the adrenalin rush that comes with winning a live tournament.

With this in mind, I'd quite like to build up an extra couple of grand to play in February's Green Joker Poker Deepstack event. The Beagle wallet could probably stretch to a direct buy-in for this event, but I also want to play the Walsall GUKPT and can't really justify buying in to two major events in the space of just a few weeks. Therefore, I'm going to try and remain disciplined and only play Drogheda if I reach something like $7k. I may never receive another chance to play a 50k event, so that should give me enough motivation to spin up the buy-in.

Nighty, night, fellow donkeys, I've got a lovely stack of hay to kip on.

biggest pot won: $865.60
biggest pot lost: $375.20
time at the table: 1hr 35min

profit = $485.65
blonde poker account = $5,236.34
-$236.34 to go before the tax man comes back

Days played = 17
total time played = 54 hrs 59 mins
total rake earned = $860.85
current $ per hour = $71.71
current $ per day = $231.55

(16) FINGER KARMA

2008-01-20T19:30:00.000-08:00

Not much happened today. I lost a coinflip with a flush draw and overcards, but apart from that, the session was pretty uneventful. Therefore, I shall treat you to some chat that I enjoyed the other day. I never insult people, but I have to admit that I love to wind them up sometimes, and this guy was ripe for the picking. I think he was schizophrenic though...

We begin proceedings with a slight bout of fibitus.

Billy Liar: grrrrrrrr
Naughty Beagle: ?
Billy Liar: joke
Jekyll: jj
Naughty Beagle: u?
Billy Liar: yes
Naughty Beagle: I don’t believe u
Billy Liar: i showed
Billy Liar: oh no i didnt
Billy Liar: nvm
Billy Liar: im lieing yes
Naughty Beagle: u had a-j
Billy Liar: nope
Billy Liar: ridiculous
Naughty Beagle: But it says in the hand history u had a-j
Billy Liar: nope jj

"You won't like me when I'm angry," claims Billy Liar as his stack shortens. Ignoring his threat, I clean BIlly out a few hands later. "Roaaaaaaaar!" Billy's eyes turn green, his muscles start to expand, his clothes tear (although his pants, somehow, remain a perfect fit) and his skin turns a rich shade of green. Meanwhile, the Beagle stands firm and continues to wind up his opponent as if he hadn't changed into a big scary monster at all. The Beagle is clearly fearless.

Naughty Beagle: gg
Incredible Hulk: i raise to 16
Incredible Hulk: and u call with 86 v ten ten
Incredible Hulk: and hit the str8
Incredible Hulk: yeh good that
Naughty Beagle: I had to call
Incredible Hulk: why did u have 2 call
Naughty Beagle: cos i had straight
Incredible Hulk: u had 86 preflop
Incredible Hulk: absolute joke to call wiv that and hit the str8
Incredible Hulk: when i flop a set
Naughty Beagle: but i had to call with straight
Naughty Beagle: can't fold on that flop
Incredible Hulk: obviously
Incredible Hulk: i mean preflop dickwod
Naughty Beagle: oh - i had good feeling
Naughty Beagle: i was right too!
Incredible Hulk: bye anyway
Incredible Hulk: poor player
Naughty Beagle: Come back
Naughty Beagle: Baby come back
Naughty Beagle: With my colour TV
Naughty Beagle: and my CD collection of Bob Marley

After a brief hiatus, the big green monster returns under a different guise, this time the world's most gullible person... ever, say that woman from a classic Beadle's About who thought an alien had landed in her back garden and then proceeded to offer it a cup of tea.

The Beagle takes his time before calling with the nuts... well, it was actually about the tenth nuts. The Tea Lady is offended by her opponent taking more than two seconds to make the call and voices her concerns.

Tea Lady: easy call
Tea Lady: duno y u took ur time
Naughty Beagle: it's not easy
Tea Lady: instant call from me

The Beagle takes the opportunity to make the Tea Lady feel guilty for her impatience and claims to be fingerly challenged.

Naughty Beagle: no, i mean i only have two fingers
Tea Lady: k
Naughty Beagle: you full fingered players don't realise how lucky you are
Tea Lady: ur right
Naughty Beagle: mouse slipped and it was hard to get it back in place
Naughty Beagle: apologies for any delay

Somehow he falls for this bizarre fabrication and suddenly becomes all nicey nicey. Everyone knows you have to be nice to the handicapped. Even the smilies comes out for those lacking all their pointers.

Beagle’s New Best Friend: oh ok
Beagle’s New Best Friend: np
Beagle’s New Best Friend: np
Beagle’s New Best Friend: sry
Beagle’s New Best Friend: aslong as u get timed out with aa and kk
Beagle’s New Best Friend: im happy ☺
Naughty Beagle: i'd use my toes then
Beagle’s New Best Friend: haha
Naughty Beagle: i have ten of them
Beagle’s New Best Friend: 10 on each foot?
Naughty Beagle: no, combined, 10 on each would be wierd
Beagle’s New Best Friend: LOL
Beagle’s New Best Friend: nh
Naughty Beagle: ty
Beagle’s New Best Friend: nh
Naughty Beagle: ty - u r very kind
Naughty Beagle: politer than this guy i played earlier

The Beagle's New Best Friend doesn't seem to realise that I am referring to our earlier encounter when he moaned about my play. Has he forgotten me already? I thought we were buddies. Sob.

Tea Lady: u mean coz im giving u my money?
Tea Lady: lol
Naughty Beagle: no, i have great admiraiton for those who play with manners
Naughty Beagle: nh
Tea Lady: yeh

The Naughty Beagle teases a little more, the Tea Lady continues to drink from her cup of blissful ignorance.

Tea Lady: aj
Naughty Beagle: a-2
Tea Lady: chance 4 a split pot tho
Naughty Beagle: i don't like to share
Tea Lady: lol
Tea Lady: qq always aa and kk on flop
Naughty Beagle: only 3 cards on flop tho
Naughty Beagle: aakk is 4
Tea Lady: i mean an ace and a king
Tea Lady: any bet from u and i fold
Naughty Beagle: oh, yes, always happens, about 100% of the time
Tea Lady: yeh

Everything is going swimmingly, but as soon as I wipe him out for all he has, Mr Nice Guy is shown the door, and in storm a couple of familiar faces.

"Roaaaaaaaar!"

Incredible Hulk: typical
Incredible Hulk: lmao
Incredible Hulk: do u ever not hit?
Naughty Beagle: i think it's karma for my fingers
Naughty Beagle: or lack of
Incredible Hulk: lmao
Incredible Hulk: thats ridiclous
Incredible Hulk: unreal
Incredible Hulk: nice raise
Naughty Beagle: ty
Incredible Hulk: lmao
Incredible Hulk: hilarious
Naughty Beagle: u have me beat?
Incredible Hulk: b4 the queen
Naughty Beagle: what u have?

Yep, here he comes the little rascal...

Billy Liar: 99
Billy Liar: absolute joke
Naughty Beagle: but the hand history says u had 7 high
Naughty Beagle: 7-5 it says
Naughty Beagle: I just checked
Naughty Beagle: r u sure u had 9-9?
Naughty Beagle: i think the computer must have made a typo
Billy Liar: yeh
Billy Liar: lmao
Naughty Beagle: gg
Billy Liar: obvious ud win the 5050
Naughty Beagle: finger karma

So, beware folks. I can't confirm his name or what he looks like, all I know is that he dons four faces. Actually, it's easy, if anyone tells lies and goes green with fury before becoming your new best friend and offering you a cup of tea, then he's your man. If in doubt, fabricate a disability, he has a particular soft spot for finger shortage.

biggest pot won: $368
biggest pot lost: $204.80
time at the table: 2hr 9min

profit = $368.60
blonde poker account = $4,750.79
$249.21 to go before the tax man goes away

Days played = 16
total time played = 53 hrs 24 mins
total rake earned = $860.85
current $ per hour = $64.62
current $ per day = $215.67

(15) WHEN NON-VARIANCE STRIKES BACK

2008-01-19T18:25:00.000-08:00

I don’t know if that title makes any sense or not, because it’s still variance, whether it’s in your favour or not. Either way, I managed to get back just under a grand today. I wore my lucky trousers and even popped the Karate Kid Theme Tune on my ipod, which I’m sure was the clincher. I just felt good about myself for a change. I’d gone to bed early, got up at a decent hour, eaten breakfast – basically ensured that I was on the ball before playing.

It just proves how important the 'healthy body healthy mind' cliche is to me. Two players spring to mind in that sense. One is Gus Hansen, the other is Barry Greenstein. Gus is always promoting good physical health and saying how important it is to his game, and although he's a bit of manic muff muncher making me want to vomit with his Casanova ways, he's got a point and he always seems to be in tip-top condition. Barry, meanwhile, is one of those players who can sit at a table for hours on end looking like a zombie but still give it his 'A' game at all times. It annoys the hell out of me actually as I have to play in patches otherwise my brain turns to mush. I think if you melted his brain down with a Bunsen burner and propped matchsticks underneath his eyelids for a week, a la Clockwork Orange, he’d still make the correct decisions.

In complete contrast to yesterday, I could barely lose a pot today. Still, I must confess to variance tipping in my favour, as this hand suggests. I think I was on the way to cleaning this dude out anyway, but still, tough way to go:

GAME #805874691: Texas Hold'em NL $2.00/$4.00 2008-01-19 12:45:45
Table Oxnard (Heads Up)
Seat 3: Villain ($244.42 in chips)
Seat 8: Hero ($365.80 in chips) DEALER
Hero: Post SB $2.00
Villain: Post BB $4.00
*** HOLE CARDS ***
Dealt to Hero [Qd Th]
Dealt to Villain [Jh Ks]
Hero: Raise $12.00
Villain: Call $10.00
*** FLOP *** [As Ts Qs]
Villain: Check
Hero: Bet $16.00
Villain: Raise $36.00
Hero: Call $20.00
*** TURN *** [Qh]
Villain: Bet $44.00
Hero: Call $44.00
*** RIVER *** [5s]
Villain: Allin $150.42
Hero: Call $150.42
*** SUMMARY ***
Total pot $487.84 Rake $1.00
Hero: wins $487.84

I did make some good calls that always seem to be correct when I’m in better nick. Took me ages to call this one, but being the one and only hand I played with this dude, I thought his range was wide enough for me to make the call. I think a lot of players would let this go, but something didn’t smell right. I nearly shat my pants on the Turn though, maybe it was the pre-emption of that pungent pong that alerted my nostrils on the Flop.

GAME #805913062: Texas Hold'em NL $2.00/$4.00 2008-01-19 13:17:31
Table Dorado (Heads Up)
Seat 3: Villain ($262.97 in chips)
Seat 8: Hero ($400.00 in chips) DEALER
Hero: Post SB $2.00
Villain: Post BB $4.00
*** HOLE CARDS ***
Dealt to Villain [4s Qd]
Dealt to Hero [Th 8h]
Hero: Raise $12.00
Villain: Call $10.00
*** FLOP *** [8s Qs Tc]
Villain: Check
Hero: Bet $16.00
Villain: Raise $32.00
Hero: Raise $32.00
Villain: Allin $216.97
Hero: Call $200.97
*** TURN *** [Ks]
*** RIVER *** [7d]
*** SUMMARY ***
Total pot $524.94 Rake $1.00
Hero: wins $524.94

I have to admit that I was in a slight state of panic yesterday. I just felt so crap and was really down, but still had enough determination to try and get myself back on track. The most worrying thing was that I didn’t feel I’d played particularly badly and was concerned that maybe either the standard of opposition had increased or I’d overestimated my abilities at heads up. That still might be the case, but for the time being I remain confident that I can continue to make a steady profit. Bizarrely, it’s almost a relief when you lose due to bad play or tilt. You’re angry at first, but then reassured that if you buck up your ideas, you can get it back. If you’re resisting tilt but still getting beaten black and blue by whomever crosses your path, then it’s just demoralising and you begin to doubt your edge in the game. I just prayed it was variance and one of those days where the cards just didn’t fall my way. It’s easy in heads up to play well when your opponent is missing everything.

Anyhow, the important thing is that I’ve stopped the rot, I’ve just got to try and regather the momentum that I was enjoying before I went to The Bahamas so I can look to start pushing towards that $6k mark. I did reach my $5k target at one point when I received my rake, but this is about what’s in my account come Jan 31st, so to stop prior to that date wouldn’t be a fair reflection of the initial aims of the challenge. I could reach my $5k and then just blow $1.5k a day or two after. Hold on…

biggest pot won: $798
biggest pot lost: $144
time at the table: 2hr 3min

profit = $969.39
blonde poker account = $4,382.19
$617.81 to go before the tax man goes away

Days played = 15
total time played = 51 hrs 54 mins
total rake earned = $860.85
current $ per hour = $59.39
current $ per day = $205.48

(14) WHEN VARIANCE CATCHES YOU UP

2008-01-18T18:14:00.000-08:00

Gosh, I don't think I've ever posted two blog entries in one day, but I've got to write this now so it isn't looming over me tomorrow. I knew it was going to happen, I could feel it my bones, and yes, variance did eventually catch up with me. It's not quite my biggest loss so far, but it's mighty close. Like yesterday, I just couldn't get going, every move I made was the wrong one and every player I came up against was a capable opponent. I did my very best to avoid tilt, skip the sharks and take breaks. I even moved around the flat to keep things fresh, but it just didn't work. Sometimes the Poker Gods just aren't on your side and you have to do what you can to minimise the loss.

It all started off so badly, top set over second set, I sensed I was in trouble but couldn't possibly fold. Then I pushed this guy in with A-K and he made a suspect call with Nines, but I've won a couple of coinflips lately, so I guess that was karma. It's the nature of the beast, but I simply can't help but feel down. I don't think I could ever have been a full time online player, the life can be so oppressive, lonely and demoralising that it would eventually send me into a pit of depression.

If you're reading this and thinking "Ah, never mind, he'll get it back", then that's all well and good, I'm a determined person, but this is real stuff to me. It's the difference between playing say the GJP deepstack tournament or the Walsall GUKPT and staying at home. If I continue to slide down the slippery slope, it also makes paying the tax man difficult. This isn't a blog about a high roller fucking around with a silly challenge a la Jesus Ferguson, it's about some dude trying to grind out his bills and play a few comps. Roy Brindley used to be limited to eating a can of beans a day and relying on poker for the rent, I'm admittedly nowhere near that level, but poker is still my rent, and this challenge is therefore of the utmost importance to me. Luckily, Roy didn't live in Hampstead.

I think my fitness is letting me down. I'm not enjoying playing that much and I just don't feel good. With that in mind, I ticked off a load of my todos in double quick time before heading out for a late night run. Yes, I set off too quickly, picked up a stitch and nearly died, but I felt great, and had forgotten what it felt like to inhale fresh air. When I'm winning, everything's great, but when I run bad, I let my physical condition slip, which subsequently effects my mental astuteness. I rose at 1pm today, which isn't bad considering I went to bed at 6.30am, but I want to see more daylight so will be aiming for 11am tomorrow. I'll also make sure I grab lunch in town rather than being confined to the flat. Staying in the flat for the whole day is fucking up my game, I really think it's that important. I just wish I was one of these guys who could play well even if they're feeling like shit, unfortunately that's not the case.

Tomorrow is a really important day for me...

biggest pot won: $443
biggest pot lost: $552.00
time at the table: 6hr 18min

profit = -$1,135.24
blonde poker account = $3,412.80
$1,587.20 to go before the tax man goes away

Days played = 14
total time played = 49 hrs 51 mins
total rake earned = $860.85
current $ per hour = $42.38
current $ per day = $150.91

(13) BACK TO WORK

2008-01-18T06:24:00.000-08:00

During my time in the Bahamas, I received the greatest prize of all... money for nothing, and even Dire Straits would be jealous of the $860.85 rakeback that appeared in my account. Previously, blonde had tinkered with the notion of depositing loyalty bonuses into players' accounts in $9 increments as opposed to monthly installments. Having experienced both methods, there's no comparision. Receiving a bit at a time doesn't actually feel like you're receiving anything at all, but finding a lump sum of wonga awaiting you one dreary morning feels like a genuine award. It's amazing really, both ultimately pay out the same, but one is just so much more satisfactory than the other.

I returned to Hampstead on the night of the 14th, but didn't hit the tables until the 17th, by which time I hoped that I'd recovered from my trip and shaken off the unwanted jetlag. However, I'm not convinced I succeeded, as after just several minutes of play, I really didn't feel like I was on the ball. With Dana working in Brighton, I thought I needed to take advantage of my opportunity to play, which was probably an error in the end.

I didn't play particulary bad, but made some questionable River calls that seemed obligatory at the time, but in hindsight, could have been avoided if I'd followed the story of the hand closer. One hand I also doubled up this dude with K-Q versus A-K on a King high Flop. He was pretty loose and played the hand well, but I almost exploded when the same situation cropped up later and he showed me a bluff. Again the board was King high and I'd called a bet on the Flop. He then overbet all-in on the Turn for around $300. I put him on A-A or A-K and folded at the last moment, but he showed an Ace high flush draw. I wondered if I would have called that if I'd been on top of my game or if I hadn't doubled him up previously. Poker psychology is a complex thing.

I did win a few big pots, $561.44 with 7-5 versus A-K on a 9-K-3-4-6 board (he checked the Flop) and $792 with a well played (well, I thought so anyhow) 4-x versus J-J on a T-4-4-4-7 board. Overall though, my timing was just way off and after yoyo-ing around for a few hours, left the tables about $500 down, it was just one of those days where everything I touched turned to shite. Whether that's because I'm not playing as well as I was before, or simply bad luck I'm not sure, but I guess I'll have to reassess my game if I continue to lose. I won 11 out of 12 sessions before the Bahamas, so I probably can't complain about one bad day.

I can always tell if I'm not in tip top condition: skipping meals, biting my fingernails and generally not enjoying playing poker. The latter is normally a sign that I should stop, although it's not always that easy. I wasted a whole day yesterday, and it's pretty demoralising. The one thing I find hard about poker is when you eat up the whole day paying poker and have nothing to show for it at the end. I value my days in this world, so it gets me down if I waste one unnecessarily.

With this in mind, I jotted down a list of to-dos for today, which includes playing online. At least if I encounter another losing session, but still tick of some of my to-dos, I can feel satisfied that I have done something constructive with my time.

It's hard to moan for the time being, I'm up with the rake. Does that make it a losing session or a winning one? Rake is part of your profit, so it would be foolhardy to exclude it. At the same time, I'm aware that this might be the start of a bad run.

biggest pot won: $792.00
biggest pot lost: $561.44
time at the table: 5hr 30min

profit = $342.24
blonde poker account = $4,548.04
$451.96 to go before the tax man goes away

Days played = 13
total time played = 43 hrs 33 mins
total rake earned = $860.85
current $ per hour = $74.58
current $ per day = $249.85

ELKY AND THE APPLE

2008-01-14T15:32:00.001-08:00

After ElkY won the PCA the other day, PokerStars media coordinator Mad Harper marched into the pressroom and asked if anyone wanted to come to the press conference to interview the Frenchman. An awkward silence and the passing of tumbleweed later, and Mad morphed her request into a plea, mainly focused on my good self who was subsequently dragged out of the pressroom with my claws scratching away at the frame of the door. “But I don’t have anything I want to ask,” I begged. “Ask him if he’s going to buy the latest copy of Starcraft 2,” laughed uber geek Floppy as I departed.

So, in the conference room, I joined er… three other media members to fire questions at the newly crowned champion. Seated at the far end of the table as if he were the father of the family, Elky gleamed like a Cheshire cat who got laid the night prior. Ironically, it’s probably the upcoming night that’s gonna get him laid. What was that Kanye West song called again?

In many ways, ElkY is an odd character. He has very broad shoulders as if he were donning American footballer shoulder pads and his sunglasses remain superglued to the bridge of his nose, even during interviews, which can only distance himself from the person he is speaking to and make it a less personal experience. Think the Terminator, but French - yep, that's it, Arnie with a beret. However, he is always polite and amicable, and therefore a cut above the majority of poker players I cross paths with.

When the press were invited to ask questions, there was, again, another stunned silence, everyone too tired from the week’s blogging to actually care. In fact, once you’ve updated a number of tournaments, they all seem to merge into one and you’ve seen so many millions pass hands that to be seated opposite a guy who’d just won a couple million bucks isn’t quite as intriguing as it once was.

Keeping blissfully stum and daydreaming about my two days off in the Bahamas, Mad inexplicably broke the silence by saying, “Hey, snoopy’s got a question.” “I do?” I replied with the warmth of the spotlight hovering over me. “Yes, go on, ask a question.”

What can I ask him? How can I feign interest? I refuse to ask him a boring question? And then, like a lard covered eel, out it slipped… “Are you going to buy the latest copy of Starcraft 2?” Nooooo, I’ve advertised myself as a geek. This guy has just fended off over a thousand other players to become a millionaire overnight and that is what I ask? “That’s not my question,” I add in a panic, “Floppy asked me to say it. I know nothing about Starcraft.”

If asking such a benign question wasn’t enough, I had to repeat it three times, my Brummie accent failing to break down any language barrier we may have had. To his credit though, he did eventually catch on after Mad translated my question into slow, loud English and ElkY responded with, “Buy a copy? I’m going to buy a thousand!” That’s one for every player he beat, ooh, I like it. Shame that’s not what he meant.

Thankfully, it wasn’t all dwarfs, aliens and Lord of the Rings, as Poker Listings’s Matt took control of proceedings with some constructive questions, basically asking ElkY how his tournament went. ElkY responded by saying that he had 900k at one point but dropped to 130k which was a worry, but then doubled up twice in a row to get back in the game. He also spoke about Pham, who he was highly complimentary of, but then claimed he was able to control his aggression due to him being positioned on his right. "I didn't want to play a huge pot against him," said ElkY, "but I stopped worrying about him when I took out Joe with the A-Q. I felt I had control then and was confident of winning."

The Frenchman also spoke about his deal, admitting that it was a lot of money and that he was simply focussed on the title. He also believed that his opponent may have played differently as a result, which gave him a better shot at glory.

All this was said at double-quick speed. Whether this was because he was still pumped up from the tournament or because he simply always speaks this fast, I wasn’t sure, but either way he sounded like the dude from the Micro Machines advert and it was tough to keep up.

Parting ways, he finished by saying that he would spend the money on partying and would buy everyone a drink at the club. (I almost drowned in the originality of that response.) Shame the club has a dresscode and was, ultimately, rather shite according to my source. I really wish these Vegas style casino clubs didn’t well… exist.

Meanwhile, I caught up with Craig ‘The Apple’ Hopkins in the Atlas bar/restaurant, the latest addition to the fruit basket. His nickname was blonde in origin, a simple photo of Craig eating an apple leading to Floppy referring to him as The Apple (genius, I know!). Either way, it somehow caught on and within minutes, all of his mates back in Chesterfield were roaring “Come on the Apple!” We even sneaked it into his PokerStars bio which subsequently led to numerous Apple references on the EPT live feed, the commentary team using the moniker as if it had been his handle for years. I bet Craig’s glad he didn’t bring a plum to the table.

ElkY and Craig both seem like nice chaps, although I was obviously remaining patriotic and backing the latter, if only for the sea of puns that would have been at my disposal for my news item. The Big Apple, The Apple Takes It To The Core, The Apple Skins The Opposition, the potential was endless (although hopefully better than those three). ElkY, meanwhile, caused all sorts of problems, the best I could muster (and I hesitate to type it, even now) being… “Ooh La La Grospellier.” To everyone who was forced to read that woeful headline, I sincerely apologise.

RUBBING SHOULDERS

2008-01-11T00:07:00.000-08:00

A combination of jet lag, mild flu and Floppy’s snoring meant that Day 1 of the PCA was a bit of a struggle for me. The days are so much longer when I’m energy sapped, but come Day 2 I was full of beans again and felt the updates were much improved.

On one of the mornings I had the chance to interview Humberto Brenes. Humberto used to annoy me with his antics, playing up to the cameras and wasting time, but he’s grown on me. He’s also one of the few genuinely nice players out there, and he has a real passion for the game. He doesn’t play for the money, just the challenge and the love of poker. If he is annoying, he doesn’t mean to be, he’s just having fun, and poker needs characters like him in the game.

Amusingly, Humberto can be pretty incompressible at times with his pigeon English and strong Spanish accent. Considering my slight Brummie accent and inability to articulate the English language, this was going to be a hoot. Most of the time we were all right, but sometimes he simply didn’t understand the question, and would often just guess what I’d said and hope he was right. I think I asked him what he would change about the game at one point, and he went off on one about how He11muth only had more WSOP cashes than him because he’d played all the events. Completely irrelevant, but bless his cotton socks, I just didn’t have it in me to say anything, so I’d just let him go off on his tangents.

Away from the limelight, Humberto actually has quite a lot to say, especially about the younger generation of poker players coming through. “They should play small. There is so much money in tournaments, that a young player can win millions just in one tournament and not really learn much about the game, it’s very dangerous. They should get an education first. Go to university and then you’re my horse. It’s all about the long run, like Chip Reese, you need to be a good player with an education. Stu Ungar was a great player, but he had problems. You need to be happy in poker.”

Also on the interview hitlist was Barry Greenstein. He went awol the first time round because he wanted more sleep, but when we eventually caught up, he had plenty to say. Barry’s an odd figure, he’s so small and quaint, yet rather intense. I felt myself treading carefully with my questions and making sure I didn’t say anything stupid. You just got the feeling that if you did, he wouldn’t hesitate to tell you that your question was illogical or didn’t make sense.

Throw a good question his way though, and, much like Greg Raymer, Barry will witter on till the cows come home. In fact, when I wrote up the interview it ran for five pages. Normally I just jot down a few good quotes, but so much of what Barry says is direct, to the point and well thought out that you end up with a whole host of interesting comments. It’s all fascinating stuff and well worth the read when I publish it.

I think I spoke to Barry for about an hour. I had a number of questions prepared, but reckon I only managed about half of them. I think he was even late for the EPT Live feed commentary because of me. I think I must have used the phrase “one last question before you go?” at least three times.

The topic that we seemed to linger on the most was High Stakes Poker. For the whole interview, he’d been adamant that being a poker celebrity had never been important to him and the real focus was always about making money at the table, which made me wonder why he played HSP when the opposition is so tough.

“I actually play High Stakes Poker because I believe there to be some weak players on the show. If you look at all the sessions I played, I actually ended up playing the good players and tended to miss out on the weak players. The producers also said that there would be more weak players than there actually were, but several businessmen who would have brought a lot of value to the table cancelled at the last minute. If they ask me if I want to play it, then I say sure, but only if I can make some money from my opposition.”

Of course, there were plenty of other familiar names at this year’s PCA. I also interviewed Bill Chen, who is an absolute hoot. I was tempted to grab a few words with Daniel Negreanu, even though I’d interviewed him at the Vic, but thought I’d leave it. I don’t know what it is about Daniel, I know it’s unfashionable to like him because everyone else does, but it’s so hard not to, he’s just such an upbeat, sociable guy. In fact, I’m pretty jealous that he can make people like him with such ease.

There are only two people in the whole of the poker industry that I am (1) nervous in the presence of and (2) unable to not suck up to. One is Doyle Brunson, the other is Negreanu, everyone else I just treat like any other random person. With Doyle, it’s obvious, he’s a legend. He’s done so much in his life that it’s nigh on impossible not to be in awe of him.

With Daniel though, it’s slightly more complex. I think it’s because I admire the way he gets so much enjoyment from poker both on and off the table and his incredible ability to remain upbeat 24/7, he just never seems depressed. His skill of prising information from people from just being friendly is unmatched by anyone else, and I really wish I was able to emulate that.

When I pass these 'name' players in the corridor, I always hesitate before saying hello. I'm never sure if they recognise me or not. "Do you remember people that interview you?" I asked Daniel. "Sure, I remember you though because you have a distinctive look," he replied. "What, hideous?" I added.

Finally, Chad Brown should keep an eye on Vanessa Rousso. I passed her in the corridor the other day and caught her looking down at my bare legs. I had my shorts on with yellow socks and fuchsia trainers, so I probably didn’t send out the hippest of fashion statements, but there’s no doubt that she took a lustful peek. It’s understandable though, the pipes have caused many a woman to bump into each other before, it’s something you just have to accept.

BIRMINGHAM WITH PALM TREES

2008-01-06T23:04:00.000-08:00

“It’s just Birmingham with palm trees,” I proclaim to Floppy in the taxi. The shops try and rip you off, motorists dive on the left and it’s even starting to rain! Aw shucks, who am I kidding here, it’s nothing like Brum – it’s bright, sunny and lively, and the rain’s not proper rain, just a slight warm drizzle, unlike our freezing cold rain that attacks you from an angle and gives you pneumonia.

Not sure how I ended up here though. When did the Bahamas become part of the EU? Will the GUKPT see us set off to Barbados, and will the GBPT announce that Bristol, Edinburgh and Bournemouth are to be joined by a quick stop off in Bermuda? Whoever at PokerStars blagged this one needs a medal! Can't wait for next year and the introduction of the Sidney EPT.

Meanwhile, US customs give us a grilling again. A year or two ago, Jen was inches away from the rubber glove treatment, so I always excrete bricks when I approach the security box. I don’t know why, I’ve got nothing to hide, it’s just they make me feel so guilty that just one menacing look wants me to confess to something... anything!

It makes me feel like a teenager again, anxiously awaiting my fate as the smug bouncer sniggers at my fake ID. “Adamus Snoopius, sir?” How about when you’re actually 18 but have forgotten your driving license, that’s even more nerve-wracking as you know your mates are bound to rib you for being knocked back when you’re actually above the legal age.

When I enter the States, I always crumble under the spotlight, even though I'm an innocent man. The simplest of questions suddenly sound like something from University Challenge and if you don’t answer immediately and with conviction, you fear that they’re going to summon over Big Bubba and request that you bend over pronto. When they asked me what my occupation was, the word ‘terrorist’ was inexplicably bouncing around in my head. I know it’s a taboo word, but it sounds a little like ‘journalist’, and I very nearly said the wrong one. Crikey, I might as well bring my own lube!

I haven't been able to experience much of the Bahamas beyond the confines of my hotel room and the Atlantis resort just yet, but so far, I haven't been particularly impressed as it all feels a little bit fake with corporate infestation oozing out of every pore. It almost feels like Vegas, with everyone trying to rip you off, taxi cabs in every nook and cranny and a resort that closer resembles a Bahamas themed casino rather than a casino in the Bahamas.

It's all very odd, and at times feels like a set-piece from the Truman Show. Just walking to the casino in the morning, I noticed that the buildings were painted a rather grotesque combination of pink, yellow and brown. This can't be the real Bahamas surely? At the moment, I'm reserving judgment because I just get the feeling that the true Bahamian experience lies beyond the constraints of the Atlantis resort which is more reminiscent of Disney Land than the exotic, cultural experience that you'd hope to expect from a Caribbean island.

In a way, it makes me feel sad that I am becoming such a grumpy old man at the tender age of 26. There are so many people out there that would love to be in my position, out here in a beautiful, sunny country standing on the shoulders of esteemed players such as Barry Greenstein, Greg Raymer, Daniel Negreanu and co, but for some reason, I seem unable to feign excitement anymore. What people don't realise is that I get out of bed, head straight to the cardroom, update the tournament for 12 hours then head back to finish off my daily chores on the blonde poker Main Site, whether that be uploading results, writing news items, or compiling interview questions. By the time I've finished all that, it's off to bed again. In that sense, it barely matters what country I'm in.

I've been to so many places, and seen so many famous names, that it just doesn't feel new anymore. I used to work a tedious 9-5 office job, but I guess it's just human nature that once you are doing something you love, you still yearn for more, even if it's tens times better than what you did before. Like at the tables, you're never happy unless you come first, even if second offers a lucrative prize. We're a greedy bunch.

(12) MR TICKLE'S ARMS

2008-01-04T20:56:00.000-08:00

I'm off to the Bahamas for nine days now (I know, I know!), so this was my last chance to squeeze in some vital hours of heads-up. I had to get up at the ungodly hour of 5am to catch my flight, so it was a 9am rise the day prior, and I was a little worried that I might be too tired to play poker. However, I was running well, in good spirits and swiflty approaching that alluring £4k milestone, so thought I'd give it a bash.

Turned out to be a cracking decision in the end because I finished the session with £4,205.83 in my account and a smile the length of Mr Tickle's arms. Incredibly, I only took on the one guy, and I played him for a good 90 minutes. This was mainly because he doubled up off me after just a few hands with Nines v A-K for an $838.20 pot. I've been winning more than my fair share of coinflips recently, so I was probably due a loss. When I made the final push after he'd re-raised my pre-flop raise, I think I knew he was going to call, it's just that I thought he could still call with A-Q and at worst I'd be 50-50. Thing is, if you can grind a player down, then you probably don't need to gamble on a coinflip to clean your man out.

I lost that hand when a Nine hit the Turn, but I kept plugging away and eventually felted him with a straight flush. It was a bizzare hand really. I had 6h-4s, he had Ks-3c and the board read 5s-3s-As-2s-6s. There was only $40 in the pot at the time, but I shipped him in for his last $300 or so on the River and he quickly called. I don't know why, but I just felt he had the King, even though he'd checked the Turn and River. Something in the hand just smelt fishy, so I thought a push would be the +ve move, and he was the type to call without the nuts. Still, bit of a cooler I guess, but it's always satisfying to finish your man off when he's doubled through early doors.

In answer to Mike Lott's query on my previous blog entry (great blog, by the way, check it out), I've certainly found my fortunes fair better at lunchtime, say around 2pm-5pm time. I was up at 9am the other day, but intentionally waited till 2pm before playing. I haven't experimented enough with evening hours to work out if there is any correlation or whether there are less fish around, but I just seem to find more action during daylight hours. It might just be because I'm fresher, more alert and playing better poker, I don't know.

Playing at those hours does make life difficult with the Mrs though, as I'd much prefer to be out and about making better use of my day rather than sitting in front of the lappie like a zombie. Places close at night, so that's the time to play, but if I'm making more money playing at lunch, then I guess I should stick to my guns.

As for Poker Tracker, I spend about 30 minutes going through it each day, if only to run through my bigger hands to ensure I played them correctly. Poker Tracker is a useful device if you have time, but it's not particulalry user friendly and has an ugly interface, so you have to really put in the hours to get the most out of it. Of course, that's time that could be better spent at the table, so I reckon it's about maintaining a good balance. Half an hour browsing around to see what I can unearth seems to do the trick for me.

Okay, just $794.17 to go, I get back on the 14th, so I probably have another 10 sessions in me. Surely I can nip this one in the bud before the 31st and stick it up the tax man's arse. I fucking hope so.

Watch this space for some Bahama updates!

biggest pot won: $642.50
biggest pot lost: $838.20
time at the table: 1hr 30min

profit = $528.95
blonde poker account = $4,205.83
$794.17 to go before the tax man goes away

Days played = 12
total time played = 38 hrs 03 mins
current $ per hour = $76.37
current $ per day = $242.15

(11) TO PLAY OR NOT TO PLAY...

2008-01-03T08:53:00.000-08:00

If you pitted Phil Gordon, Phil Hellmuth and Huck Seed in a fight against Freddie Deeb, Jerry Yang and Tony Bloom, who would come out on top? Would the shorties be able to bite a few ankles, or would they simply be squished in a matter of seconds by the beanpoles? If they can defeat them in double quick time, then the tall dudes can head home with their head held high, safe in the knowledge that David doesn't always beat Goliath without a pebble and a sling. However, what if the midgets cause them some problems, throw a few missiles from distance and gradually grind their oppenents into a fit of frustration. The Triple Towers may win in the end, but they'll have a few scars to show for their troubles, and will ultimately be asking themselves, "Was it worth it?"

This is the predicament that has faced me recently, and it is one that I was previously unaware of. Up until now, I've been focusing my attention on the players that sit with a minimum of $80. They tend to be very poor players on the whole and will often donk off their chips within seconds. However, the other day, I came across a chap who had his war face on and was battling harder than normal. After 100 minutes and a long see-saw battle that saw him double up on two occasions, I finally despatched of him and collected his $80 that I felt my consistency and unrelenting focus so richly deserved.

However, when glancing at my final figure, I noticed that I was inexplicabley down for the session. I double-checked my buy-ins, what he sat down with, individual hands and so on until I suddenly spotted the rake stat on Poker Tracker. A quick run through the stats and it would appear that even though I'd cleaned him out, I had in fact ended up with a defect due to being raked circa 100 bucks. The only winner was blonde poker, which although I work for them, is actually quite demoralising when considering nearly two hours of my life was sent hurtling down the kazi.

At this point, it suddenly dawned on me why most of the regulars refuse to play anyone who sit with less than, say, half the maximum buy-in, because if they don't beat them within the hour, they're probably going to go away with diddly squat, and that's assuming that they do indeed felt their opponent. It's not unreasonable to think that the chap with $80 is a decent player, and may double up and cause havoc for the more experienced player. The odd thing is that if this does happen, and they do reach the dizzy heights of two or three hundred, then you might as well play them given that each hand, rake, etc is independent. It's a part of mathematical theory that I will never fully comprehend.

Now I know what damage the rake on heads-up can do, I'll certainly be more selective with who I play. For a start, I've assigned a new label to my opponents, that of Shortstack Grinder, which will act as a warning that my opponent sits with the minimum, or thereabouts, yet is either a relatively accomplished player who can grind it out with the best of them, or someone who simply won't ship it in within a few hands. Many players still do the latter, so I won't be giving up on the shorties just yet, I just have to ensure that I nip it in the bud as soon as I identify my opponent as one of those duck posteriors.

On the flipside, and to dispel the theory that the Jack Strauss sky-scrapers of the online $2/4 heads-up world aren't always the mutt's nuts, I played one hand yesterday against someone who sat with $400 and doubled up instanlty when he paid off my Flopped set of Deuces with Ace High. He turned a flush draw, and that was enough for him to ship in three hundred or so of Americas finest. Fortunately, he didn't make his flush (that, if anything, would have tilted me), but he did score a pair of fours, although I thought it best not to exclaim "You hit!" at the end of the hand.

To play or not to play... that is the question. The answer? Well, I'll still take on all comers, but be sure to scarper as soon as I detect that it's not a +ve move to play them. By the way, I think Hellmuth would still get beaten up by the shorties; I can just picture Freddie Deeb and Tony Bloom grabbing a leg each and chomping away at eleven bracelets worth of flesh.

biggest pot won: $800.00
biggest pot lost: $145.68
time at the table: 2hr 2min

profit = $287.94
blonde poker account = $3,676.88
$1,323.12 to go before the tax man goes away

Days played = 11
total time played = 36 hrs 33 mins
current $ per hour = $68.80
current $ per day = $216.80

(10) I'M A GROOGE

2008-01-02T06:41:00.000-08:00

I wish I was into New Year as much as the picture suggests, but I'm not. It just seems like a load of bollocks to me. If you don't possess that sudden urge to go out and celebrate the changing of a digit on the calendar you are accused of being a mardy mustard, yet when people get to their destination, they complain about the crowded bars, lack of transport, price of admission, inability to reach the bar, etc, etc. It's just boring, overpriced nonsense. Why do we need an excuse to go out on the piss with our mates, and why would we pick the day when every other mug in the country is doing it?

Woohoo, let's celebrate it being 2008, what a monumental occasion. In fact, let me pay for that privilege of experiencing the turn of the year in all its wonderful glory. Feck that, can I celebrate it next week when it's free? I guess I'm just the Grinch and Scrooge's lovechild - a Grooge.

Grooging aside, it would appear bad karma has finally caught up with me after my unrelenting ambush of the lemmings species yesterday as I am now suffering from the most potent confliction since the Plague, Man Flu, so called because women suffererers are way too fragile and simply don't survive.

I remember catching flu around the time of the 2006 Grosvenor Grand Prix. At the time, it was my biggest tournament to date, so I was furious that of all the times, this was when the flu decided to attack. As expected, it affected my game. I could play, but not to my usual level of alertness. My head just wasn't in the game, my reads were off and I made numerous incorrect decisions.

I'm not bed-ridden just yet, but the combination of sore throat, chesty cough and bunged up nose had a similer hampering effect yesterday as it did in Walsall. After just a couple of hours into my session, I could feel myself gradually losing my concentration. One of my opponents was ultra slow, so I was multi-tabling two (which is rare for me), but my brain couldn't keep up. I was also making too many errors and knew that if I was on the wrong end of a few bad beats, I could potentially end up calling off a load of chips. Thankfully, I recognised these signs and stopped.

If there is one thing that I've learned since playing heads-up poker, it's that I truly have to be in good nick to maximise my profits and minimise the chances of having a session as badly as the one I experienced on Day 6. In heads-up, one lapse in concentration can really cause a domino effect of errors as you just don't have as much time to recover your composure, and before you know it, you've dumped hundreds, maybe thousands, of dollars.

I think in future, I may keep withdrawing money from my blonde poker account so as not to get into the mindset of "it's okay to play loose, I have loads of money to spare" when I do hit a bad run or slip into a dangerous frame of mind. If there's less money in my account, then I feel that it might make me stop and think a bit more before calling off chips, especially considering ipoker won't allow me to deposit any more money until I send them copies of all my ID details, which I don't particularly want to do.

I won a chunky pot today with K-Q versus A-J on an A-J-T Flop, but the more intriguing hand was the one I lost for a total of $380.46. 5c-2h-9s Flop, I bet $8 with 9c-8s, he check-raised to $16 and I called. He bet $20 on the 6d Turn, I made it $40, he called and then pushed all-in on the 9h River for $130. I called and he had 9d-6s. At first, I dug up an old cliche, "that's poker", but afterwards, I really thought I could have got away. Looking at the board, what could he possibly be pushing all-in with? No flush draws, no real obvious straight draw. Any hand except trips or a full house will check, and considering how poor my kicker is, I think it has to be a fold.

Only 64 bucks up today, but that's okay, I'm being extra paranoid about when I play, which is better than playing when I know I shouldn't. It's weird, people will take a fleeting glance at my hourly rate and say to me, "Wow, that's not bad pay, why don't you just play all day?" Unfortunately, it doesn't quite work like that, as this is one of the few occupations where you can go home with less money than you started with, so you have to be selective when you play, and if that means only playing when you feel good, then so be it.

biggest pot won: $928.46
biggest pot lost: $380.86
time at the table: 2hr 3min

profit = $64.19
blonde poker account = $3,388.94
$1,611.04 to go before the tax man goes away

Days played = 10
total time played = 34 hrs 31 mins
current $ per hour = $60.52
current $ per day = $208.89

(9) THE TRUTH ABOUT LEMMINGS

2008-01-01T06:27:00.000-08:00

Dictionary.com definition: "Any of various small, mouselike rodents of the genera Lemmus, Myopus, and Dicrostonyx, of far northern regions, as L. lemmus, of Norway, Sweden, etc., noted for periodic mass migrations that sometimes result in mass drownings."

The true definition...

Don't always believe what you read, folks. Lemmings come in many shapes and sizes and originate from a variety of countries from across the globe. Most importantly, however, they don't migrate. In fact, they stay just where they are, boot up the laptop and play some heads-up poker. How do I know? Well, I stumbled upond a litter (that's the collective name, I hope) of lemmings yesterday afternoon, and boy, were they in suicidal mood.

I believe I played well - focused, patient and prudent. However, I couldn't have done it without the lemmings. I don't think lemmings have to pay tax these days, so I thank them wholeheartedly for their sympathetic gesture and $870.79 contribution, thus ensuring that 2007 finished in style for one wet-nosed Beagle.

Seeing that it's New Year, a time of celebration, I'm going to take you into the mind of lemming. I'm not just a poker player and journalist, but also a mind reader (almost got the Lottery spot if it wasn't for that fecking Meg bitch), so I was treated to the inner thoughts of 5 select lemmings who donated every last penny. But what drives them to suicide? Why were these their final moves? Read my case studies to find out. I have to say though, I'm still none the wiser.

Case Study #1: "Right, let's see, we've got the Big Slick, bit of pre-flop action. Ooh, A-Q-T Flop. Let's trap the bastard and check, if it goes wrong, I've still got the straight draw, which I have a 50-50 chance of hitting. Excellent, he's bet. Now let's attack and hope he sticks it in with his dodgy flush draw. Yeeeees, he's raised again. Right, all-in mi thinks, he's pretty much pot committed now with his crappy Ace. Hehe, marvellous. On their backs. No 3-outer please, peeps. Hold on, what's this, A-Q? Noooooo, he kept that quiet. Hey, this is is rigged, where in Super System does it advise me to consider what my opponent has? Oy, give me my money back, motherfucker, I had top pair! What a fucking cooler!!!"

Case Study #2: "Crap, I've only got 62 bucks left! What do I do? Oh, I know, let's call all-in with 9-5o and hope he has 9-4. Bollocks, he's got Tens. No, but wait, I can still hit if... oh shite, he's flopped a Ten. There's always a straight or a flu... nope, I'm done. Bye."

Case Study #3: "I have Kd-9s pre-flop. What would Phil Ivey do? Easy, he'd make a pointless out-of-position pre-flop minimum raise to $8. Now we have all the information we need to take this punk down. Let's see, 8d-5d-Kh Flop, top pair! Nice, he's called my bet. Turn 9d, awesome card, I have two pair, that's double what I had before. I don't care about the straight and flush possibilities, I haven't hit two pair for five whole minutes, and besides, two pair beats straights and flushes when the pot's bigger! I'm all-in! Damn, he has the straight. Fork. Stick. In. Me.

Case Study #4: "He's re-raised me pre-flop, my Threes must be good. What, it's like a billion to one that he has a bigger pair. All-in for $80! Bugger, Tens. I run so bad."

Case Study #5: "Hmm, 7s-6s-8h-4d board, I have 9c-8c, he called my wimpy bet on the Flop and then re-raised me on the Turn. Well, we can rule out the 5. I have to go all-in, I've virtually got the nuts. Oh poo, he did have the 5. Well, he certainly concealed that well, I put him on er... ahem... er... I really must feed the cat."

Long live the lemming, the greatest creature on Earth.

biggest pot won: $409.96
biggest pot lost: $214.40
time at the table: 1hr 38min

profit = $870.79
blonde poker account = $3,324.75
$1,673.25 to go before the tax man goes away

Days played = 9
total time played = 32 hrs 28 mins
current $ per hour = $62.36
current $ per day = $224.97

(8) SKATING ON THIN ICE

2007-12-31T06:22:00.000-08:00

Barely played yesterday, felt like shit and I could definitely sense that my head wasn't in the game. As soon as my eyes went a bit blurry and I began making unforced errors, which was only after two hours, I called it a day. I think I might be coming down with the flu; sore throat, slight headaches and a mild case of the sniffles. I seem to have a little bit of everything, which is why it probably wasn't a good idea to go venturing out into the big wide world and go iceskating!!!

I was really hesitant at first. One, I've never iceskated before, two, it's outside, and three, I've never iceskated before! "Don't worry," soothes Dana, "everyone falls over." When we arrived, I didn't see one person sitting on their ass, instead they were whizzing around like Torvill and Dean on speed! I quickly tucked my shirt into my underpants and prayed to Ice Gods.

It was an odd set up really. Every year for two months, they reel out this rink, as if they have it folded up in a stockroom somewhere, and lay it out in front of the National History Museum. Then random people from across London pop over to skate round and round and round... and round and round on the ice until their hour is up. Then that's it. We humans really are an intriguing bunch.

It was actually quite fun in the end. My brief stint as a child with rollerblades had served me well as some of the techniques successfully transferred over to the ice. In fact, it was Dana who fell over, and now has two bruises to show for it. She bruises like a peach that girl!

One thing that did infuriate me were the other skaters. I could never really get into full flow or gather any speed because there were either people going slow (some even stopped!) to close to the centre and others, affectionately know as 'The Cocks', trying to show off by weaving in and out of those less exprienced than them. This meant you had to keep stopping and starting every second. God damn people, why are there so many of them!

Back to the poker, I actually was rather fortunate during the session, which is another reason why I stopped. I won a big coinflip with Tens vs. Big Slick and chased a couple of hands that hit the River, one in particular would have raised the odd eyebrow, but I knew I'd get paid off if I hit. Either way, I shouldn't have been in the hand and I was swelling up pots unnecessary, so I left before it got messy, even if I was only 30 bucks to the good.

It's strange how a profit can make some of my stats worse, but at this point in time, the hourly and daily rates are pretty skewed and won't signify anything until later. Also, leaving early gave me the chance to have a rest, catch up on some blonde poker work and spend some quality time with the Mrs. In other words, stay out of the doghouse.

biggest pot won: $786.00
biggest pot lost: $482.40
time at the table: 1hr 58min

profit = $34.59
blonde poker account = $2,453.96
$2,546.04 to go before the tax man goes away

Days played = 8
total time played = 31 hrs 50 mins
current $ per hour = $36.25
current $ per day = $144.25

(7) IT'S A FUNNY OLD GAME

2007-12-29T19:59:00.000-08:00

Poker can be an emotional acticvity. Last night, I snapped at my girlfriend rather inexplicably. I may have been reading a book about the 50 most prolific serial killers at the time, most of whom lacked any sign of remorse, but I know that if I hadn't been so mentally fatigued from my day's loss at the virtual table, I wouldn't have reacted in the way I did. In this sense, I sometimes wonder if I have the characteristics to cope with the world of poker and the discomfort it can cause. If I act aggressively to those around me because of a bad day at the 'office', then should I really be going to that office in the first place?

He may not have realised he was speaking about poker at the time, but Jimmy Greaves was spot on when he stated "it's a funny old game". As my money dribbled away yesterday like sand through a colander, I knew deep down that I should stop. I knew I was playing bad, I knew I was on a slippery slope and I knew that if I quit a few hundred down, I could easily get it back the next day. However, part of me is convinced that the world is going to end by the end of the day and that this is my one and only chance to retrieve my money, it's truly bizarre, and it's the one part of my game that has been weighing me down like a metaphorical ball and chain on a husband's ankle.

So, it is with a mixture of delight and sustained "grr, I shouldn't have been in this position in the first place" self-criticism that I can report a profit of $528.41 for the day for a running total of $2,419,37. It's weird to think that a couple of days ago I would have considered the current total to be disastrous, yet, given what has happened, I am understandably elated. It's a strange part of poker and the virtual money that we play for that I'll never fully understand, and really puts out a strong reminder to us all that poker is about the long-run, rather the immediate rewards.

Today's total wasn't easily to accumulate, not by any means, and it all started so catastrophically with the dreaded misclick monster peeping out from under the bed and rearing its ugly, unwanted head. In fact, it was the very first hand I played, and resulted in me calling $200 into a $100 dollar pot with 7c-5d and a board of 7s-2h-6h-Kh-Qs. Of course, he had the flush, and of course, I was whisking the mouse over to the 'fold' button via, foolishly, the 'call' button when my finger must have suddenly decided that it couldn't handle the pressure of merely resting on the button, and duly decided to press. Oh well, it was admittedly an infuriating start, but it would have been even more exasperating if I hadn't cleaned him out a few hands later with Jacks versus A-K. Luckily, he had ants in his pants, and I was winning coin flips, which is always a satisfying feeling.

To cut a long (5 hours worth) story short, I yoyo-ed up and down, peaking at $2,500 and unpeaking at $1,650. I won a $687 pot with Qc-Tc versus As-Jd on a 4c-4s-8c-Jh-2c board where I bet every street and $413 with a set of Eights versus K-8 on an 8-J-2-2-6 board. My biggest pot came in the form of another A-K/J-J coinflip, which once again fell my way for a lucrative $770.20. My biggest loss was a bit of a cooler, Ac-Kc versus 6s-6c on a 6d-5c-9c-As-9h board for $527.40. Incredibly, we both checked the Flop, but by the time I'd re-raised on the Turn, I was pretty much committed when he pushed. Plus, he could easily have had something like A-Q.

Looking back at my blog, I considered that perhaps I had a leak somewhere because I win so many big pots compared to the ones I lose, yet not a big enough overall profit to reflect those results. However, I then realised that this was to be expected due to my aggressive nature and that those big pots (eg. the set of Eights from above) wouldn't necessarily get paid off if I didn't splash my chips around and get my fingers caught now and then.

Today was a trying day. I experienced some terrible misfortune with made hands being rivered and sets running into straights, but I relied heavily on two vital 50/50's which thankfully came through. However, what pleased me the most about today was that I played for a long period of time, yet came up trumps. Whenever I play for hours on end, it usually ends in fatigue, tilt and a loss so heavy that it would make Santa Claus seem light on his feet, so finishing over half a grand up has led to the balloons being released, my performing a ridiculous dance and a very lucky night for Mrs Beagle. See, when I win, everybody wins!

biggest pot won: $770.20
biggest pot lost: $527.40
time at the table: 5hr 35min

profit = $528.41
blonde poker account = $2,419.37
$2,580.63 to go before the tax man goes away

Days played = 7
total time played = 29 hrs 52 mins
current $ per hour = $37.47
current $ per day = $159.91

(6) RIGHT, WHERE'S THAT FECKING DRAWING BOARD?

2007-12-28T17:31:00.000-08:00

Well, no one said it was going to be easy. I've learnt the hard way that poker can be gutwrenching, demoralising and depressing all at once, and today was no different. Unfortunately, it was due to a complete lack of discipline on my part rather than any deviant intervention from the poker gods.

It all started so peachy. I was up $500 for the day, playing well, had a good meal in me and braced to start threatening that $4,000 landmark. Then, I met Markus, and it all went wrong. Sitting with just $80, I doubled him up unnecessarily when I lost my concentration and re-raised his Turn bet with a Flopped flush draw, thereby leaving myself committed and forced to call when he pushed all-in with two pair.

You know you're playing badly when your opponent turns a paltry $80 into $750 without you even quite knowing how. At this point, I was just a couple of hundred down for the day, and should have thrown in the towell. However, I refused to quit and searched for more tables, possibly because I was (1) angry at having relenquised an excellent profit for the day (2) uable to accept my first loss for the challenge or (3) upset that I had allowed such a small stack to take so much money off me. In fact, it was probably a combination of all three.

In total, I played an abusrd 9 hours and 38 minutes, the majority of which I barely took a break. I convinced myself that with it being Friday, I should play on regardless of how I felt as there would be some easy money coming my way from the recreational players. This wasn't true, and although a few weak players did cross my path, the standard remained pretty high. The overwhelming factor, though, was that I was simply playing terrible poker and would have lost my money to pretty much any level of player.

I have mixed feelings at the moment. One is anger at myself for failing to quit early doors, and the other is resignation in the fact that I've dropped all the way back down to $1,890.66 in the challenge. The biggest feeling I have, however, is that of disappointment, disappointment in wasting an entire day pissing about in front of a laptop losing money. Life really does hang by a thread, so I just hate to think that I knew it was going tits up, but chose to carry on instead of doing something more satisfying with my time like walking around Hampstead, reading a book or simply spending some time with my girlfriend instead of ignoring her like I have done thus far.

However, I also acknowledge that what is done is done, and I'm a firm believer in looking ahead rather than dwelling on the past. In that sense, I'll be taking what little positives were left from today's session: playing at lunch time is much more profitable than night, and as soon as I detect that I am making unforced errors, quit playing, whatever my alter ego is telling me.

In terms of the challenge, I am concerned that I still have over 3k to go before I can pay off the tax man, but believe my game is good enough to retrieve today's defecit. It might take me another week, but I can do it. I'm a little worried that time is running out with my trip to Bahamas coming up next week, but I'm remaining confident. I hate failing at anything in life, so I'm determined to ensure that this isn't one of them.

I won't go through every major pot in detail as it reveals too much of my play and will probably just bore you needlessly anyhow. However, here is a brief list of the 5 biggest pots I played.

(1) $724 - I called a re-raise from the button with 8d-7s, re-raised his $60 bet on a Tc-8c-7d Flop, he called the extra $270 with Ah-9c. 3d Turn, 5d River, I win.

(2) $680 - raise, reraise, re-reraise, his call before he called my £290.60 push on a 3c-Qc-5h Flop. I had Ac-Ah, he had Ad-Qd, 2s Turn, 3s River, I win.

(3) $668.40 - He raised pre-flop from button with Ac-Jd, I called with 6d-4d, checked an Ad-£d-9d Flop, he bet $20, I raised to $60, he pushed for $263.20 more, I called. As Turn, 6s River, I win.

(4) $442 - I called a re-raise from the button with 9c-8s, re-raised his $48 bet on a 3h-8c-8h to $96, he made it $198, I pushed, he folded.

(5) $428 - I raise button with 8s-5s, he calls with 8c-8d, he check-calls 5h-8h-Jd Flop before check-raising the Kc Turn, I call Turn and $124 on the Ad River, I lose.

Makes you wonder how I lost all that money when I won 4 of the 5 biggest pots, doesn't it? The most worrying thing, however, is that if I'd lost hand (3), I think I would have blown everything in my account.

Bah Humbug!

biggest pot won: $724.00
biggest pot lost: $428.00
time at the table: 9hr 38min

profit = -$1,137.47
blonde poker account = $1,890.96
$3,109.04 to go before the tax man goes away

Days played = 6
total time played = 24 hrs 17 mins
current $ per hour = $20.63
current $ per day = $98.49

(5) STEADY AS SHE GOES

2007-12-27T20:28:00.000-08:00

Fortunately, our vigilante from yesterday was nowhere to be seen today, so hopefully his crusade to block me from every $2/4 table on ipoker was only temporary. However, just because Bruce Banner took the odd day off, it didn't mean he wasn't liable to go snooker loopy again, so I won't count my chickens just yet.

It got me to thinking - what would I do if this guy really did set out on a more long-term personal vendetta and make it his personal mission to stop me playing any games of heads-up unless it was against him? Is there anything I could do? Is he entitled to sit down at every single table? Is he allowed to follow me around incessantly? It's scary, but there are people out there who are prepared to go to these extents, and there really is nothing in online poker to prevent it from happening.

I have no problem admitting that he was a good player, and one that I wouldn't want to be forced to play. He was aggressive, difficult to read, and clearly playing at a level that he was super comfortable with. This unnerved me, and was the reason why I exited stage left. Also, why should I waste my time playing sharks when so many fishes roam the sea?

I honestly doubt he can be bothered now, but if he did decide to try and fuck it all up for me, then I'd have three options - either play another site, change my moniker or try and take him on, whether that be with the aid of a superior player to me, or via my own intensive homework on the guy. I hope no opponent ever makes me pick any of those options, which is why it doesn't hurt to be friendly with the good players. So, Annette_15, Mr Antonius, Sorel Mizzi - I think you're swell! :-)

My session today was pretty limited, as I found it increasingly hard to find a game. There seemed to be a lot of decent players floating about, and all the $2/4 tables were taken, which doesn't make sense to me. It's understandable if they all have one player seated, but if they're full, why not have more available at all times?

I did lurk on a $3/6 table hoping someone would sit with $400 or less. The full whack wouldn't have been catastrophic, as I've played a fair few hours at $3/6 and feel pretty comfortable at that level. This, hopefully, will make that jump from $2/4 easier if I ever decide to step up the ladder. It also means I have absolutely no qualms about $2/4 and can bully my opponents into the ground without worrying about the money if, say, I have to refill multiple times. I suppose playing at $5/10 and losing a $5k pot helps.

I don't recall any hands worthy of your viewing time today, but if it's a case of steady as she goes, then I'm happy with that, I'm not in the Bluescouse kennel just yet so don't need every pot to be a monster.

I'm still delighted to be up though, even if it's just $178.80 squid. One chap was a little awkward. I was $200 down to him at one point after he sat with $180, and even though I almost left, I just felt he had weaknesses I could exploit. So I stuck at it, kept my head and managed to felt him for that $200 and the original $180, minus the table tax. Spotting which players I can eventually beat and which will fleece me for even more is a truly tough skill to develop, but it's of the utmost importance, and, thankfully, I feel like I'm getting better at it.

Heads-up isn't always the most entertaining of poker forms as it can all become rather repetitive at times. Luckily, the human mind can be a tentative, emotional one, and I continue to be amused by some of the twaddle I read in the chatbox. I'm often being called a fish, so it doesn't bother me. In fact, I secretly love it when they go off on one, because it means I can publish it here, like this chap who started off making sense before ranting in tongues. I feel sorry for the letter 'n', it seems to have been singled out for quite a bashing in his momentary rage. I really should point out some of their awful grammatical mistakes though, if they're going to insult me, at least make it legible.

Mentalist: unreal
Mentalist: your lucky
Mentalist: incredible
Mentalist: ppppppssssss
Mentalist: fuclk
Mentalist: do not possible
Mentalist: nciowqdnfc wqerb
Mentalist: yetbvdtybrtv
Mentalist: nyur
Mentalist: n n hr y
Mentalist: n
Mentalist: h r
Mentalist: yn
Mentalist: y
Mentalist: nry
Mentalist: n
Mentalist: r
Mentalist: n

Another chap (yes, I really do attract them) was all nicey nicey for the whole game, before I eventually took him for the shrapnel he sat with. I was hoping he'd take it all in his stride and type 'good game' in the chatbox like an honourable gent. Unfortunately, it would appear as though our blossoming friendship was to come to an abrupt end as he simply wrote the word 'retard' before departing. Ah, I guess there really are no friends in poker.

biggest pot won: $293.00
biggest pot lost: $192.00
time at the table: 1hr 10min

profit = $178.80
blonde poker account = $3,020,43
$1,979.57 to go before the tax man goes away

Days played = 5
total time played = 14 hrs 39 mins
current $ per hour = $117.44
current $ per day = $344.09

(4) RATHER BE KUCKY THAN GOOD

2007-12-26T20:19:00.000-08:00

I didn't think I'd be able to wangle it, but sweet baby Jesus of Nazareth, I managed to fit in some online poker over the festive period and can proudly boast two hours of Boxing Day heads-up fun and frolics. With Dana failing to rise until the eyebrow raising hour of 5pm, I tip-toed into my bedroom like a ballerina at the Nutcracker and hit the $2/4 tables with the enthusiasm of a child opening his Wii the day prior.

Again, I was pretty pleased with the way I played. I kept my focus and targeted the weaker players instead of venturing towards potentially stronger players when the action dried up. In terms of pots, my strategy of picking off shorter stacks is, not surprisingly, decreasing the size of my biggest pot, which was $441.20 today. Who would have thought a speculative pre-flop raise with 6-3o would clean someone out? Well it did, and after betting every street of a Q-5-4-7-6 rainbow board, my unfortunate victim was unable to release Pocket Sixes after a cruel Turn and River. Still, he never once popped out a raise, so I guess my agression was rewarded. Always makes me laughs when hands just get worse and worse for our capeless crusaders.

More notably, my smallest pot has remained thankfully small, which is, again, a sign that I am staying away from the big wigs. I did cross the wrong guy at one point though, when a a player that I had locked horns with before but didn't appear to have any notes on sat down at my table. His uber aggression had me in knots for the opening hands and quickly saw me down by $100 plus. However, he made a mistep on one hand and paid me that 100 bucks back, plus a little juice. At this point, I decided that I was uncomfotable with his unpredicable play and incessant pot swelling and decided to sit out.

Unfortunately, even though we were close to even for our brief bout, he didn't seem to take my departure too well and proceeded to follow me around ipoker, sitting down at any table I played at. In order to deter this personal vendetta, I tried to tell him that it was a compliment, but he was clearly snorting fire like the Incedible Hulk in a post office queue as he opened up every available $2/4 table and sat down, thus meaning that I coudn't get in the game unless I played him, which I didn't want to do. Sigh!

Meanwhile, other oddities were occuring in my chatbox. One opponent went ape at me for three lines, even using capitals, which is always a sign that they've lost it. His moans were unjustified, incidentally, he was a poor player and I'd been far from Kucky. I suppose typos are inevitable when you're bashing down on the keyboard like a pianist on smack.

Villain: ANYMORE KUCK?
Villain: FIXED
Villain: FISH

Then, later on, when I was in the Danny La Rue (rhyming slang for 'loo' - just made it up!), I returned to see this gobbledygook waiting for me in the chatbox. I've never played against or crossed paths with this mentalist, but he seemed to have a Christmas message for me. If anyone can work out which bit is saying "I hope you had a good Christmas", then please let me know.

Mentalist: lol
Mentalist: losee loser
Mentalist: men
Mentalist: little sexs
Mentalist: ahahahahahahahahaah^$$*
Mentalist: good or no good

Anyhow, back to business, I was up $329.37 for the day, which is awesome considering I only squeezed in a couple of hours before SWMBO (She Who Must Be Obeyed) showed her coffee-hungry face. Meanwhile, I've added a couple of pointless stats regarding my current form. They're pretty much irrelevant at this stage and could completey change after one carcrash of a session, but they make me feel good about myself and I wanted to inflate my head as much as possible before I run into that inevitable losing session. 4 wins in a row, it's bound to come, for once I'm going to be prepared.

biggest pot won: $441.20
biggest pot lost: $119.00
time at the table: 2hrs 14mins

profit = $329.37
blonde poker account = $2,841,63
$2,138.37 to go before the tax man goes away

Days played = 4
total time played = 13 hrs 29 mins
current $ per hour = $114.34
current $ per day = $385.41

A CHRISTMAS MESSAGE

2007-12-26T06:53:00.000-08:00

My Christmas was nothing of note. I received some lovely presents, had a wonderful meal and spent some valuable time with my girlfriend, but in terms of what I read this morning on the blondepoker forum, it was barely worth mentioning.

Unfortunately, not everyone had as enjoyable a Christmas as me. A good friend of mine, and fellow live updater, Rod 'Junglecat' Stirzaker, lost his father yesterday on Christmas Day. His mother lost her battle against cancer last Summer, so the poor guy has been orphaned in the space of several months.

Reading about his loss, it made me think about the irrelevance of a silly challenge to pay off the tax man and the value of money, which, as long as you are happy and have your family and friends around you, really isn't worth much in the grand scheme of things.

I hope he doesn't mind, but I've decided to reprint his thoughts on my blog so as to serve as a reminder that not everyone in the world had a happy Christmas. Please do take the time read it...

I'm not sure why I find myself writing this post but I feel like I need to get a little bit of stuff off my chest so I hope you will bear with me whilst I do.

2007 has not been a great year for me and my family. My mum died in the summer after a long, protracted battle against cancer. She beat it off twice but the third time proved one step too far and the aggressive chemotherapy she was treated with, left her weak, hairless and in pain during her last few moments. She was a very popular woman though my mum, and had her many friends and family round her bedside during all of her last moments on earth which was some comfort for our family as that is what she would have wanted.

Since my Mum's death, my dad has struggled a lot. He was very reliant on my mum in a lot of ways. His social life was built around what she organised, she cooked him healthy meals and provided a companion for him. My dad was always a very private man, a highly intelligent mathematician and physicist, he sometimes struggled to relate to other people as he found himself frustrated by their inabililty to grasp the complexities of science and philosophy as easily as he could. As a result he tended to have few friends and relied on my mum for much of his social contact. Once she was gone, he withered really, both mentally and physically. He was already in a fairly bad physical state, having had a triple heart bypass five years ago, and a gangrenous toe removed last year, caused by bad circulation brought about by diabetes.

In the last six months, whenever I travelled to london to visit him, he always emphasised that he didn't feel he had much time left. This is not a pleasant thing to hear from your own dad, but it proved prophetic...

Just under two weeks ago, he was admitted to hospital after being found wandering around ealing broadway confused and bewildered. The doctors ascertained he had suffered a heart attack but he was also suffering from an infection caused by a further recurrence of a gangrenous toe and perhaps most crucially, his kidneys were beginning to fail. He was treated well at hammersmith hospital but given the array of problems affecting his major organs and that most of the fight had been sucked out of him by my mum's death, it was clear that it was just a matter of time till he passed away.

That time arrived yesterday. Me and my older brother, with whom I was spending christmas, travelled up in the morning to see him at the hospital. We brought along some presents, intending to let him celebrate christmas as he had always enjoyed it immensely.

On arrival things looked bad. He was in a comatose state and the doctor explained that he felt my father was dying. I looked at my dad lying there. He had been an excellent sportsman in his youth, playing cricket and football at a high level, yet he now looked weak as a baby, with tubes poking out of various areas of him, struggling for breath and with several foul-looking, blackened, necrotic toes poking out of the end of his white bed sheets. An hour or so later, he took one last gasp, stopped breathing and as we all realised the futility of even trying to resuscitate him, I cried for the first time since my mum had died six months ago.

Various things went through my head as I stared at his lifeless body...I remembered my dad suppporting me when I was younger, taking me to Judo for 15 years, watching proudly as I played rugby for my school and London Welsh. I remembered stupid things he had done like showing off to us when we were kids by pretending to shove a prickly piece of coral into his head, before misjudging it and connecting, leaving him yelping and running off to fetch a bandage to stem the bleeding whilst me and my brother rolled around in fits.

I also felt some guilt at not having been there for him more during the six months after my mum's death. I remembered one occasion where I went to see him in this time. Typically when i travelled back to london, I would cook a roast dinner for my dad as he loved that, and didn't have the culinary skill required to ever make a meal like that for himself.

This time though, I felt tired and sleepy and couldn't be bothered to make a full roast so I just made some cheese on toast, knowing my dad wouldn't complain and would like it, but also knowing he would far prefer the roast.

Looking back at this, i felt so guilty and selfish that I didn't put more effort in. I really wish I'd made the roast now.

I feel slightly numbed now as I struggle to contemplate that both my parents are gone. I guess really I am lucky that I still have two brothers, who I am very close to.

I'm not typically given to coming out with maudlin, self-indulgent revelations like the one above but I felt like I needed to put this out in print, just to give some airing to the complex, conflicting swirl of emotions going on beneath me.

Although the tone of above is somewhat grey and depressing, I do feel that some good things have been highlighted in the last few days.

After we finished up at the hospital, myself, my older brother and his wife drove back to his house in maidenhead where I made a big roast with all the trimmings. As I cooked the meal I was attacked by my young nephew and niece, 3years and 18 months old respectively.

Although I haven't seen loads of my niece since she was born, she seems to have a strong bond with me and kept running over requesting to be picked up so she could fall asleep on my shoulder. I watched Alex and Simone fighting over their presents and generally running around like lunatics, screaming , shouting and clearly having a brilliant time and I thought that would have been exactly what me and my brothers would have done 25 years ago or so...

Life goes on. For the two deaths of my parents there are the two new lives of my brother's kids, exuberant and eager to take on all the challenges of the world. At a somewhat depressing time, these sparks of joy shone a light into the darkness I was feeling and went some way to turning my tears of sadness into smiles. At this moment after the past year, there is no price you can put on this, and no words that can relay the comfort the two little people have given me.

Thanks Alex and Simone and RIP my Mum and Dad, two of the best people I've ever met.

(3) "YES, IT'LL KEEP"

2007-12-23T14:41:00.000-08:00

Every year's the same. I plan to buy all these cool, imaginative presents online, but before I know it, it's Christmas Eve and I'm racking my brains trying to think what my friends and family won't have to feign elation (bless them) upon opening. Socks, CDs, DVDs aren't much good in the Beagle household, has to be something imaginative otherwise it'll look like you haven't put the effort in. As for book tokens and that old "now you can decide which one you want" excuse - crikey, just give 'em the money! Gosh, when did the standard get so high?

At least I don't have to purchase stocking fillers anymore. For a few years, we had this zany idea that each family member would have a stocking and everyone would buy two presents to go in each one. How my parents got their foot into that door, I'll never know, but I'm glad it's a thing of the past, as it was a pain in the ass and just led to more trapsing around a crowd-infested shopping mall. Thank God for last minute trips to John Lewis!

So, after just five hours sleep and a miserable day in Birmingham city centre searching in vain for something 'original', I didn't particularly feel like playing poker. However, with my parents likely to slap me across the chops with a wet kipper if I play on Christmas Eve, and Dana likewise on the 25th, I thought I'd get my head straight and squeeze in a couple of hours.

Not much really to report, except that those initial couple of hours turned into four with the ol' blonde account yoyo-ing up and down for ages like a squash ball on a bungee. I did play some truly bizzare players, and ones in which you can't help but ask yourself, "Are they real?".

One guy was a calling station if you bet, and a betting machine if you checked. He seemed to do this whatever his cards, and his bets were never the pot. In the end, it was simply a case of waiting for a hand and betting each street, and trying to avoid calling each street with marginal hands. This went on for a while, but he didn't change his game. It would have been a masterstroke if he suddenly started to utilise his image and altered his game as I would have been tied up in knots. This is often a great way to tilt someone, because they never know what you have and will stay in the game because of your previously fishy play.

To give you one example of a hand, I raised it up to $20 pre-flop with As-Ks and he called from the button. I checked the Ah-Td-3d Flop hoping that he'd bet out, as he so often did and I could call it down, but he checked behind me. I then bet $36 on the 6s Turn, and then $100 on the 2s River, knowing that he'd call with any pair, and maybe even just King high. He called and showed 3s-2h. Grr! In the past, this would have pissed me off no end, and I may have became impatient and started raising unnecessarily and calling the streets down with hands like second pair.

Fortunately, I didn't do this, and he wasn't a cute enough player to make the change to his game to catch me off guard, so I ended up cleaning him out. It had become so predictable, and so mechanical, that I even opened up another table to multi-table heads-up for the first time ever. Incredibly, the second player was almost as bad, except that instead of being a calling station, he was a folding station and I was just able to batter him down without him ever really grabbing his balls and playing back at me.

In the end, I finished just over $500 up. As you can see from the size of my biggest pot, it really was a matter of grinding away patiently, whether it be slowly chipping away at the folding station by betting at every opportunity or taking multiple pots off the first guy by just betting every street when I found a hand. A true grindathon, but I was glad I managed to keep at it as it wasn't a quick process, and there were times when my hands were rivered, which resulted in my desperately trying to control my frustration.

At one point, my mother called me down for tea with the family, but I was tied against another calling station (although not quite as bad) and didn't want to give him up as he still had $300 on the table and it felt like free money. I initially said that I'd be down in five, but that five minutes soon passes. I didn't want to throw him back in the sea, so I rang the house phone from my mobile and asked my mom, who had been slaving over a hot stove, a very awkward question: " Will it keep?" We've all been there, haven't we?... I need help!

biggest pot won: $176.00
biggest pot lost: $156.00
time at the table: 4hrs 25mins

profit = $451.86
blonde poker account = $2,512.26
$2,487.74 to go before the tax man goes away.

(2) THANKFUL TO BE UP

2007-12-22T12:46:00.000-08:00

Went to the chiropractor's the other day with a painful coccyx injury only to be told that my posture is terrible and needs to be rectified before it leads to major problems. This is easier than it sounds as I spend most of my time slouched in a chair, either working, playing poker or watching TV. Today my upper back was causing me terrible pain, so I was pretty miserable and probably shouldn't have played until later in the day. They do reckon there is a quick fix to my damaged coccyx, but the phrase 'via the rectum' soon put me off that idea.

This dude sat down with the max of $400. I'd never played him before, so thought I'd give it a crack. People who join tables are normally weaker than the snakes that lurk in the bushes. However, this guy was good, no complaints. Yes, he did have cardrackitus, and I couldn't hit a cow's ass with a banjo (who the hell gave birth to that phrase?), but my head just wasn't in the game and he took me to school. He was unpredictable, tight but aggressive and great at value betting. It was one of those games where I genuinely thought he could see my cards - whatever I did, it was the wrong move. My timing hasn't been that bad since the time I asked a girl I'd just slept with if she knew what herpes was. Okay, that's a joke, I would never do that, and I certainly don't have herpes. Got crabs though.

It's made me think twice about the value of playing those who enter the game with the max. On average, they just seem to be better, so unless I know them to be fishes, I'll probably just sit out in future and wait for a smaller stack that I can bully easier.

At one stage, I was over seven hundred down to this guy in less than an hour. Sigh, pretty demoralising to lose yesterday's profit in such a short time. I was gonna head off, but I was starting to screw my neck in and was gradually picking up a few reads. I thought that if I could just hit a nice hand, I could make some of my money back. Last hand - found Kings, raised it up and hit a set on an all heart K-9-x Flop. I bet out on the Flop and again on the blank Turn, at which point he made a big chunky re-raise. I pushed and he called with K-9, no hearts, so that was that, no chance of a bad beat. He left straight away, so he's not stupid, which is why I won't be playing him again. Pretty irrelevant now, but I thought he played the hand poorly - he obviously thought I was still steaming, which is what I was hoping he'd think. Neverless, I've marked him down as 'Avoid' and will aim to flee from the table quicker in future if I identify a player of his ability.

Was still down after that encounter, but clawed it back. One mug had me beat for quite a while, but he was pretty loose and couldn't seem to lay down hands, so I kept plugging away until I eventually cleaned him out for a $900 plus pot with T-9 vs. 8-6 on a Q-7-6-8-2 board. He played it terribly including calling an all-in on the River when it was an obvious fold, any other player and I probably would have value bet instead. Also felted some fish who sat with $250 but decided to shove it all-in pre-flop with K-J when I limp re-raised from the button with Kings. I guess he was in a festive mood. Either way, he's now top of my exclusive buddy list. If I can hunt him down again, it'll be goose on Tuesday instead of turkey.

That last win put me up by $100 or so for the day. I decided to stop at that point because I felt that if I dipped below what I started the day with, I would become frustrated and start chasing... and losing. Also, I hadn't eaten since last night's steak, which is never a good idea.

No chat to report I'm afraid, no one wanted to speak to me and I was busy trying to find the 'aids' guy to tell him that I was still alive.

I'm relieved to be up for the day, but simultaneously disappointed that it's only a few bucks. Xmas is upon us and it's hard to find time to play without appearing rude - family and friends don't always realise that this is part of my earnings.

biggest pot won: $913.00
biggest pot lost: $291.00
time at the table: 2hrs 17mins

profit = $140.24
blonde poker account = $2,060.40
$2,939.60 to go before the tax man goes away.

(1) $5K HEADS UP CHALLENGE

2007-12-21T11:19:00.000-08:00

I don't post much about my online game, but I do play regularly. I used to make a nice tidy sum on Party Poker pre-US ban playing 6-handed $1/2 and $2/4 ring games. In fact, I found it such a doddle that I could just dip in and out at pretty much any time without any real need to pay attention, make notes on my opponents or study my game in Poker Tracker.

However, post-ban has been a different story, and the lack of numbers on Party have really affected my income dramatically. I can still make money, but not as much. Less players mean table selection is harder and almost every table has one or two tough players, many of whom will have made notes on me. With my work in journalism taking up so much time, I am unable to dedicate enough of my life to conquering these games and making the profit that I was before.

With this in mind, I recently turned my attention to heads-up poker to see if I can turn a bigger profit. They always says it costs to learn, and the same applies here because I reckon I've dropped a few thousand learning a few painful, but hopefully fruitful lessons. In that sense, I reckon I'm learning fast and can now make a profit playing $2/4. I tried all sorts of levels from $0.50/1 to $5/10 (including losing a $5k pot!) and even one disastorous attempt at $10/20, but concluded that $2/4 was the most profitable and attracted the most fish.

I won't go into depth about my views of heads up strategy or my own personal approach, but I believe I am now better equipped to start turning a nice profit. Naturally, variance is a big factor in heads up, but I reckon I'm heading in the right direction and every time I take a big hit, it's usually a combination of bad beats/coolers AND poor play/decision making. I'm gradually learning how to eliminate the latter.

Considering I received that stonking tax bill the other day, I thought I'd test myself and see if I could turn $1k into $5k, that $5k being enough to pay the liabilty for January 31st. I have lots of Xmas shopping to do this week and the Bahamas EPT to work at the start of January, so it's going not going to be easy, especially if the luck doesn't fall my way in the big pots. I've already got going on this, and did reach the dizzy heights of $3,600, but that was before yesterday's deathdrop.

As I do this, I shall post some quick snappy entries in here. I normally pen a chunkier entry every week or so, so this will hopefully make for a slightly different read. I risk becoming a less famous/popular, low roller version of Ed 'BlueScouse' Hollis, but it could be fun for a week or two so let's give it a crack.

Anyhow, after losing $2.3k last night, I won circa $650 back today. I didn't play particularly well, but good enough to be satisfied with my performance. After the bad beats and coolers of yesterday, it was nice to win a coinflip, although how two half-decent players got it in pre-flop with A-K and 9-9 I'm not sure.

I played a very unpredictable player for ages, and he was making some truly bizarre plays. One saw him push all-in on a 3h-3d-8d Flop with Deuces for $318 - there was only $48 in the pot! I duly called with 4s-3s and took it down. Later on, when I thought I had him in the shit, I Flopped trips with A-5 on a Ks-5c-5d Flop. I bet out, he raised and I called. I bet less than half the pot on the 4d Turn putting him on a middling pocket pair and hoping to keep him in. He called. River was a 3d, I pushed all-in for $295 into a $200 pot hoping to make it look like a desperate bluff, but he instacalled with 9d-8d. Ouch.

The funniest hand of the day was a fortunate one for me. I was on the button with Q-J after some pre-flop action. We both checked the 9s-8c-3c Flop, before I check-raised him on the 7h Turn hoping he would fold. He smooth called and then shoved in on the Th River with Pocket Jacks. Of course, I called and took down a nice pot.

I didn't like the way he played it, but it probably wasn't the best of times to say so as the subsequent chat shows:

Villain: luckyDONKEY
Villain: PEOPLE
Villain: LIKE U
Villain: SHOULD
Villain: DIE BY AIDS
Villain: U FUCKKKING
Villain: ASSSSSHOLE
Villain: ASSSFUVKKKKKRT
Villain: LUVKY WANKKKER
Villain: FICK DICH
Villain: DU BLÖDES ARSCHGESICHT
Villain: DUMMMER WICHSER
Villain: VOLLIDIOT
Villain: URE SUCH AN IDIO T
Hero: last few hands for me i think
Villain: FUCKKKK YOu
Villain: U ASSSSHOLE
Hero: ?
Villain: OPFFFF
Villain: hit and run
Villain: GO AWAY
Villain: U SUCKKKER
Hero: i have to have my dinner shortly
Hero: i think it's steak

I wasn't really planning on leaving, and steak wasn't initially on the menu, but I wanted him to think he didn't have long to try and get his money back and shove in the rest of his dosh on a marginal hand. He did ship it in, but had a flush draw against my top set. I filled up on the Turn and he scarpered.

Hope this entry was interesting. Let me know if it was and I'll carry on doing them, although probably with few hand desriptions as I don't like telling people how I play hands.

biggest pot won: $809.80
biggest pot lost: $789.60
time at the table: 3hrs 33mins

blonde poker account = $1,920.16
$3,079.74 to go before the tax man goes away.

HOW MANY LESSONS DO I HAVE TO LEARN?

2007-12-20T16:42:00.000-08:00

Do blogs read better when the author pens his entry right after a big loss? Well, that's what has just happened to yours truly, a $2.3k loss in one night a chunky addition to what I owe the tax man. I'm not overly fussed, mainly because I've just lost what I made in the last three days playing heads up, so know I can get it back. Also, it was the result of a few nasty coolers/bad beats. I initially wrote them out in this line, but suddenly realised that it was (1) pointless and (2) of no interest to anyone, including myself.

However, the bottom line is that I didn't play well, and after a long fought out week of disciplined poker, made one crucial error - I played good players when no bad ones were available. And instead of scarpering once I received my cooler or bad beat, I re-filled and played on, which is stupid, because the sharks will skin me alive.

I knew tonight was coming, and I fought I was prepared, but I guess I wasn't. I think I just got greedy after such a good run. Anyhow, it hurts to take so many steps back, but I have to just accept it and go through the motions again. Back to the drawing board tomorrow - I'm confident I can get that $2.3k back by Christmas. I'll let you know if I do...

THE BIGGEST POT I'VE LOST SO FAR...

2007-12-19T18:43:00.000-08:00

... has been courtesy of the tax man who this morning, via my accountant, informed me that I owe £3.3k (3.5k inc. accounting fee) in liability for the new year. Ouch.

DUSK TILL DAWN - A BEAGLE'S PERSPECTIVE

2007-12-13T19:27:00.000-08:00

After two years, millions of pounds and the odd heart bypass, Rob Yong and his team finally opened the Dusk Till Dawn doors on Wednesday 28th November. Unfortunately for the masses, this was an invitation only occasion and as a notable (ahem) member of the ‘media’, I was able to blag my way though the doors and witness first-hand what all the fuss was about.

As a former student of Nottingham University, I knew the area relatively well and reminisced on fond memories past as I heard the faint beating sound of cheesy house music emanating from the crappy neighbouring building that I used to frequent.

But whilst several years ago, I might have been vomiting up a kebab in the car park and allowing my beer goggles to chat up girls with more facial hair than a Yeti, today I was here for rather different matters, and those of the more sober kind. Yes, today was the big unveiling, the result of years of blood, sweat and tears, and I couldn’t wait to see what it had produced.

With fuchsia trainers donned, I was as anxious as an underage teenager preparing to unveil his fake ID as I passed the two security guards outside, my defence of “they’re fashion, not sportswear” braced to fall on stony ground, but, to my elation, they let me pass without apprehension. Inside, there was already a long queue of nosey parkers… I mean keen media members, all waiting to get their hands on one of those shiny black membership cards and feast their eyes on the delights that lay inside.

As I stepped through the glass doors for the very first time, I was not only greeted by select norkage handing out free glasses of champagne (bah, I drove!), but also an endless sea of tables forming an arched amphitheatre effect. To the immediate right was the bar and restaurant, along with a row of computer terminals, and on the left was the VIP Room and toilets.

The first figure I spotted was the unmistakable sight of Nick Whiten (right) running around like a headless chicken attempting to juggle two jobs: making sure the night ran smoothly and pursuing in small talk with his guests. As a suited and booted Rob Yong swanned in with a tired, but relieved expression, I also spotted the rest of the DTD crew in Yogi, dik9, Actionjack, Paul Zimbler, Chubbs, Adam O’Connell and Simon Trumper, the latter of whom was clearly in his element and enjoying the challenge. Trumper’s a top fella with a heart of gold, so best of luck to him.

Whilst I caught sight of Thewy, Womble and Simon Zach in the queue, also present were Jammer, Nick Wright, M Power, El Blondie, Chili, tikay, Nick Hicks, Fran Creed, Barry Carter, Mel Lofthouse, to name just a few, so there was a real community spirit in the air. But community or not, when Rob Yong announced a free bar due to the current lack of an alcohol license, the mere idea of ‘friendship’ was swiftly brushed aside as everybody raced to the bar, elbows ready to take a neighbour out if required.

Meanwhile, fruit juice in hand, I treated myself to a brisk tour of the joint. The place is very open plan, and predominantly captured in one single room, but the VIP room, which I believe is now reluctantly known as Rob’s room, lurked provocatively in the corner and I couldn't resist a quick peak.

Like most aspects of the cardroom, the attention to detail in the VIP room was remarkable. Magazines lay neatly across the table, drinks sat patiently in a central dip of the table (left) and a gleaming, and highly amicable might I add, barman greeted me as I entered. The room was cool, suave and sophisticated, and best of all, led on to a private poker table that looked out onto the rest of the cardroom. But do you really want people holding glasses up against the window and steaming up the sheen with their murky breath, I hear you cry. Well, not only is the room soundproof, but one flick of a switch and the windows go black. You can see them, but they can’t see you. Awesome, just like a James Bond film.

I didn’t get to taste the Nottingham cuisine of the restaurant and the bar was your average run of the mill bar, but I do remember the toilets being big enough to swing ten cats in and possessed a peculiar smell of biscuits. I checked for Chubbs munching away in a cubicle, but saw no sign of him or any trail of crumbs, but I did spot the all-important flush censor. Why pull when you can hover? Hmm, that sounds like a slogan for a dogging organisation.

Back in the cardroom, Rob Yong was addressing the crowd, thanking his team and adding, “It doesn’t look like much, just a few poker tables, but you wouldn’t believe the trouble we’ve had getting them in here.” And after the two Nicks had been presented a trophy for their efforts, the ribbon was cut by Rob’s mother, which I’m sure was an emotional moment for all involved.

“Shuffle up and deal,” announced Rob, and everyone ambushed the cardroom, ready for the media comp to commence. A new style of tournament clock hit the screen and the draw was displayed. Apart from my brother, I didn’t recognise anybody at my table, and I question how many of them were actually involved with the press (cough, splutter), but I expect many were simply friends of Rob who hadn’t necessarily played much poker.

One of those was seated next to me – a real, “oh, what the heck, who cares, it’s only a game” type of players. Well, although I wasn’t as amusingly disgruntled as one player whose pocket Tens had been outdrawn by his Q-4 all-in pre-flop, I was admittedly disappointed to be one of many victims of beginner’s luck. With our friend limping under-the gun and another player min raising, I decided to make a big overbet with Kings in the small blind. The rookie called, and it came an all heart Flop. I pushed, he called with Ah-2h and that was all she wrote – a debut to match the Shockmaster’s (one for the few wrestling fans there).

Although the tournament ran relatively smoothly for a first outing, I did notice that the dealers seemed a bit on edge and perhaps lacking the required experience. Our one made a few unforced errors at times and seemed unsure of certain rulings, but it’s early doors, and with Luton’s Alistair, Blackpool’s Kate and former Broadway supervisor dik9 at the felt, they’ll have more experience in that room than a Countdown audience.

The eventual winner of the tournament, I believe, was Ladbrokes’ Nigel Turver. He was joined on the final table by none other than Paul Jackson’s daughter, showing her pops how it’s done. She’s the spit of him, it’s bizarre. Not sure why though, could be the distinctive nose – it’s certainly not the good looks!

One of the things I love about DTD is the post-match action, ranging from big Omaha cash games to low level STT’s. Following the Vegas trend, the waiting lists are efficiently listed on the plasma screen and your name called out when your seat opens. I played two STTs, along with Pokernews’ Barry Carter, but again, these were fruitless experiences, coming 4th and 5th for nothing but a thinning wallet.

Whilst everyone was friendly, smiley and generally having a good time, the slightly hollow atmosphere of what, admittedly, is an enormous room, as the crowd dispersed was a slight concern. Fill it with an EPT or WPT cast and it’ll be buzzing, but with just 60 or so players a night tucked up in one corner, it could echo the seven dwarves stranded in the Grand Canyon.

After my pockets were empty and my morale in smithereens, I said my goodbyes, thanked Nick for the invite and hospitality, made my way through the safe (no more Gala dungeons!) car park and headed back down the M1 for the long, tedious two hour journey.

Overall, my stay at DTD had been a pleasant one, but one that had satisfied expectations rather than surprised me. The DTD saga has been ongoing for so long now that I felt I knew the club before I’d even been there. Like most, I was an avid reader of Rob’s diary and had followed the trials and tribulations of his seemingly endless struggle with a very keen eye, so already knew what the place was going to be like and how it was intended to be run. And from first viewing, they’ve certainly followed up on those initials promises.

Personally, I'm not a big fan of directly comparing individual cardrooms to DTD because the latter has only been open a couple of weeks, is solely focused on a cardroom rather than a casino as a whole, and is run by poker players rather than moneymakers. However, the truth is that DTD is just what the poker doctor ordered, and will hopefully shake up the competition. The local opposition clearly see DTD as a threat to their incomes, so will hopefully respond by treating their own poker clientele better as a result. Maybe then, the trend will spread through the rest of the country, tempting other casinos to better cater for the poker community.

I fully appreciate the work put in by many cardroom staff, but often find that many of the decisions are made from over their heads, and by the big wigs in suits who lurk in the background. Unlike Rob, they’re in it for the money, and as businessmen, that’s totally understandable, but in making their profit, I feel they have underestimated the effect of poker and the ability it has to reel in large numbers, many of whom will be big house game players, into their venue.

Dusk Till Dawn is, in conclusion, a magnificent creation, and although it's not round the corner from me, I fully intend to make the odd trip up to the East Midlands in support of their cause. Let’s hope DTD is a sign of things to come and the rest of the poker industry follows suit in running their establishments for the loyal customers that frequent them, rather than solely the pockets of the people who own them. Unfortunately, however, with the lure of the house games forever luring people through the doors, I’m not sure I can see that happening.

ACTIONBEAGLE MEETS ACTIONJACK

2007-12-10T15:34:00.000-08:00

I've penned several interviews in my time with blonde, but I think my latest one with Paul 'Actionjack' Jackson is one of the more eye-opening and worthy of highlighting on this blog. As expected, Paul spoke openly, and adamantly on the subjects raised and was never afraid to say what was on his mind, and that always guarantees a superior interview.

I don't think I've ever linked to an interview on this blog, but feel they are strong points of the blonde poker Main Site. With that in mind, please feel free to have a gander at some of the interviews I have undertaken over the last year or two by clicking the appropriate links below:

Paul Jackson

Isabelle Mercier

Jon Kalmar

Neill Kelly

Dave Colclough

Chris Moneymaker

Bertrand Grospellier

Michael Langley

Greg Raymer

Joe Beevers

Simon Trumper

JP Kelly

Julian Thew

THE MOST STUPID THING I'VE DONE SO FAR...

2007-12-04T20:17:00.001-08:00

... is dump $800 to some lucky chap on a $10/20 game. He was sitting with a minimum of $400, so I did the same. It didn't click how steep those blinds actually were, but he obviously knew what he was doing. Bullied me off the table, I played scared poker, kept topping back up to $400 before doing $800 worth. Just shows how important playing at your comfort level is and how much more important the blinds are in that respect than the stack you have in front of you. What a fucking waste of money. What's most annoying is that I have reached some tiny deposit limit on blonde which says I can't take out any more money unless I send them all my credit card details. Pft.

What a donkey, it's even put me off going to Luton tomorrow.

[Edit]

Spoke to a guy from customer support who sorted out the deposit limit problems. I don't know how much I can stick in now, but I've decided to shove in $1,000 and try and build it up gradually - a back to basics plan of sorts.

I'm playing heads-up at the moment and trying to see if I can make it profitable. I reckon I can, but at the moment I am playing such bad poker that I'm losing on blonde. Tempted to stick to 6-handed on Party, which I know I can win at, but I remain adamant that heads-up can be more lucrative if I just get my head right.

This includes doing my homework on people, utilising Poker Tracker more and choosing my opponents more carefully. Most importantly, however, I need to improve my fitness levels. I don't know what it is with me, but that seems to be the most important factor to when I'm playing well or not, to the extent that it's even putting me off going to Luton tomorrow for the £200er. I'll see how I feel tomorrow, but I can't keep throwing away money when I'm not playing my 'A' game.

It's true when they say that it can cost money to learn how to play, and the same applies with heads-up poker, but I'm going to keep at it and see what happens. I think I have to start winning soon though otherwise I won't be able to carry on buying into big events such as the GUKPT. That's what I love to do, it's just a shame variance plays such a huge part.

I think the best thing to do is wait until I've finished updating the Luton Christmas Cracker at the weekend, give myself a couple of days rest during which time I write up all my notes I have on my opponents, and then give it another crack at, say, 1/2 and 2/4 instead of the 3/6 and 5/10 games I've been playing so far. It's all about discipline.

THREE MISTAKES

2007-11-23T13:58:00.000-08:00

As I write, I am currently watching the final of the Midlands Masters in Walsall unfold. As with the Grand Prix, the final is being played in a yet to open sideroom that Grosvenor are planning to rent out for £75 squid an hour. People will be able to play a cash game, STT or whatever with big screen TV, dealer and waitress service. Also, there's an expensive soundproof door that can be pulled across if they don't want people to know what they're up to.

But back to the Main Event, this has to be one of the toughest line-ups I've ever seen including Mickey Wernick, Paul Jackson, Marc Goodwin, Harpit Gurnam, Martyn Cavanagh, Steve Jelinek, Rob Reece, Chicken Joe and Dave Colclough. In fact, the whole field was tough, and although I assumed that I'd have a 'I know their game better than they know mine' advantage, I think it would have been better saving my dosh for a GUKPT or something instead.

I did decide that it would be good experience and somewhat of a challenge, but that only comes into effect if you actually get further than a few hands. To be fair, I made it about half way, but only through grinding a shortstack and never getting above my starting stack.

This was due to a couple of mistakes, apart from actually playing the comp in the first place. Ironically, although I was sat at a table with Thewy, El Blondie, Woodley, Herbert and Singleton (who, for some unknown reason, turned into a raising machine), the player who took most of my chips early doors was the lesser known Tony Fellone (gotta love the cool gangster name!).

I called a raise with 8c 4c (it was a loose table, as you can imagine) and bet out 500 on a 5c 2c 5d Flop. Everyone folded except Tony. Check, check on the Kc Turn, and then another check from Tony on the 4d River. I bet out 1.5k, and Tony made it 4.5k.

Against anyone else, I'd fold, but Tony seemed like a rash, loose player lacking the calculation of someone who'd check-raise the nuts on the River. A straight or flush would flat call my bet on a paired board, and I eliminated all possible house hands: he was uncharacteristically passive on the flop with draws out there if he had the 5, Pocket Fours would fold the flop (and I had one!), Kings would have raised pre-flop, and he surely wouldn't check 3 times with Pocket Sixes. Also, I'd just seen his poker face when he had a hand against Woodley, and this time he looked different.

So... going with my belief (which I try to do to avoid playing scared poker), I made the call but was shown Ac 8c, which was a mighty surprise, but proved that I'd somehow managed to outthink myself. I never tilt, but I rued my decision for a good while and later deemed it to be a terrible call, if only because I forgot to consider the amount of bluffing hands that he could have held, which is very few. However, in hindsight, it only cost me 3k, and if I hadn't been knocked down to 4k, then I wouldn't have doubled up off Julian Thew's flopped two pair with a flush and straight draw as my card didn't arrive to the River, by which time, and with a deeper stack, he probably would have pushed me off the hand.

My next mistake came a couple of levels later, looking down at As-Ts in early position, I decided to limp and see a Tc-Ah-Qh multiway Flop. Everyone checked and Chicken Joe bet 700, which was check-raised to 1,600 by Z Mirza who'd limped in early position too. I dwelt up for ages before calling, believing Joe was going to sense danger and step out the way whilst also giving me position on Mirza to see what he did on the Turn. Hands I was worried about were K-J and A-Q (he would have raised a set up pre-flop), yet he could still have A-J or below (Joe is a loose player) or even the draw.

Anyhow, a raggy heart came on the Turn, and after Mirza checked nervously, I decided to represent the flush to either stop him rivering another heart if I had him beat or get him off the straight or two pair. So, I popped out 2.5k, but he quickly called and we saw a blank River. At this point I knew that (1) I'd made a mistake in betting the Turn and (2) that he had me beat, most likely with the straight, and probably holding a heart.

If a heart had hit the River, then I would have grabbed my balls and pushed in either hoping he didn't have a heart, or that he'd fold the Jack. However, because it wasn't red, and although I contemplated an all-in, I decided against it and checked. He showed Kh-Jc and said he would have called, and I believe him. But I had 6k and was still in with a shot, which isn't bad considering that if there'd been some pre-flop action I might have done my whole stack.

On a sidenote, I was made to show my hand here after trying to muck, which I hate. Apparently the rule here, which isn't applied consistently, is that all checked hands on the River have to be shown. Not only is this time-consuming, annoying and unnecessary, but it gives away a lot of information in a game that should be about deception. Paul Jackson detested this rule too, and claimed that if people wanted to collude, then they could just muck their hand before being asked to reveal and there'd be nothing the dealers could do.

Apart from those hands, I didn't really hit much, and spent most of the time ducking and diving (even getting back up to 9k at one point) before cold cards allowed the 'cost of poker' to demolish me. With the blinds at 300/600 and about to rise, I saw one Ace and pushed my 4.5k in from latish position after remaining frustratingly patient through a seemingly endless sea of 8-3, T-2, Q-4, etc.

Of course, poker is all about timing (aka luck), and I ended up running into A-K and Kings behind me. Luckily, the A-K was pushed off the hand pre-flop, so I had a chance, but my outs didn't arrive and I was deservedly out of the door. Rob Reece was the chap that finished me off, and he seemed like a nice lad, even if he does look like Chris Moyles.

Bit gutted because I feel I spent £800 without gaining too much in the way of experience or enjoyment. Also, I didn't play particularly well and am begrudgingly sighing over a recent lack of cards and, more importantly, opportunities. I'm not playing amazingly, but solid enough and feel that I deserve the cards to run a bit better for me at those crucial times. Still, am remaining patient and looking forward to playing a couple of freezeouts at the Luton Christmas Cracker. Praying for a final table at the moment.

NICE GUYS DO FINISH FIRST

2007-11-17T18:29:00.000-08:00

I haven’t been posting much of late, but that’s because I’ve been updating in Walsall and Dublin before returning to Ireland to play the inaugural blondepoker.com Waterford Winter Festival. I have plenty of tales to tell, but that’s for another time. Before I do anything, I must backtrack a month or two and dedicate a few words to the incredible run of Julian ‘Yoyo’ Thew.

For those that don’t know (what rock have you been living under!), Julian won the Baden EPT in Austria last month. Not only that, but he also triumphed in the Plymouth GUKPT in September, not to mention a victory in a Walsall side event and a Broadway final table sandwiched somewhere in between. To say he’s hot after what was a turbulent (in poker terms) and exceedingly dry spell is the understatement of the year, and I think Julian now comfortably surpasses Mr Final Table himself, Ian ‘Invincible’ Cox, in the form stakes.

I first met Julian at the lively Gala Casino in Nottingham in June 2002 when I first entered the live poker foray. I don’t think he’d been playing too long himself at that point (perhaps just 6 months in Ireland), and he certainly wasn’t the full time sponsored pro he is now, but back then, he was fresh-faced, enviously younger looking than his years, and lacking the eye-bags that life in the poker fast lane is guaranteed to bring you. He was still as nonchalant as ever, not just in his cool, calm, collected approach to everything, but also physically, somehow striding into the cardroom each week as if he were on holiday in Cornwall, shamelessly donning cardigan and sandals.

What struck me about Julian was that he was one of the few genuinely nice guys in the cardroom, and someone you just knew you could trust your life savings with. I know it gets boring hearing every one say how he’s the “nice guy of poker”, but it’s true. He didn’t have a bad word to say about anyone, and he’d give everyone the time of day, even if you knew he despised them deep down.

In truth, that probably has its downside too, as I’m sure a few people would have taken advantage of his generosity and done him for a few bob. If you’re as amicable and successful as Julian, then you might as well have the words ‘Nip Me’ tattooed on your forehead. I don’t know for sure, but I’m hoping he’s prepared to tell people to feck off if need be, especially after recent victories.

Having said that, Julian has backed me a couple of times, and tikay makes no secret about how generous Thewy is in swapping percentages. When I offered to sell Julian a percentage of myself in the recent GUKPT, he didn’t batter an eyelid. I don’t have a particularly impressive track record in tournament poker, so the chances are that his investment would go down the pan, but he fancied putting a bit of faith in me. I didn’t come home with millions, but I returned him a profit nonetheless, and even though it wasn’t much, it felt nice to actually thank him in monetary terms for his support.

But that’s enough of the character assessment, what really intrigues me about Julian is not his kind-heartedness, but his continual success rate in side events. In fact, for a while, I was nicknaming him ‘the Sid Event King’, and if you check out his stats, you’ll see why. Apart from the odd score in Amsterdam and a distant win in Luton, the majority of Julian’s triumphs prior to Plymouth and Baden were in events of £750 buy-in or less. The £300 bracket in particular appeared to be Julian’s niche, and if he made the final, he was almost guaranteed to win it. I don’t think you’ll find any player in the world with a better final table win rate than Thewy.

I often inquired as to why he could only succeed in the side events, but Julian never had an answer. Although I assumed that he either froze in the big one, his style wasn’t as effective, or he just played better against a certain type of player, it would appear as though it was simply a matter of variance, as recent results, unless they were a fluke, have proved.

Julian’s playing style has always interested me – bamboozled me, to be more precise. How does he do so well? Does he read players better than me? Does he have better timing? Perhaps he changes gears at the right time? Or maybe he is indeed as lucky as people seem to think he is.

In my opinion, I think the key word is ‘gamble’. Although this is a word frowned upon by many poker geeks, gambling is a big part of the game and, if applied correctly, can be used as a huge weapon. For instance, Julian seems to have that magical ability to play a big stack better than everyone else, so if the opportunity for him to become big stacked arrives, he’s willing to snap it up in a jiffy, even if he isn’t the favourite in the hand. Of course, this strategy requires you to be a regular tournament player for rewards to be reaped, and Julian has had more than his fair share of fruitless outings.

In this sense, Julian is fearless, and is never worried about exiting a comp, whatever the level. Similarly, when he has a meaty stack, he doesn’t hesitate in calling down players. If he has the inferior hand, then so be it, but he’s not the one all-in, so he’s happy to take pot shots at people. Not only is there the chance that he might win the hand (2-3 isn’t that far behind A-K) and increase his lead even further, but it also sends people a stark message and one that they are unlikely to forget - mess around with Julian at your peril. He doesn’t even have to win the hand to implant that fearsome reminder in his opponents’ heads.

I could go on forever about the ins and outs of Julian’s game, but at the moment, it’s merely guesswork. He probably isn’t sure himself what the key to his success is, he just has a natural game that is working, and he’s understandably happy to stick with it, whether it makes sense or not.

Whatever you think of Julian and his game, the most marvellous thing is that he’s a nice guy that wins. People often mistakenly say that poker players are some of the most honest people you’re ever likely to meet. Bollox, from what I’ve witnessed over the last few years, it’s the complete opposite, and Julian Thew is the exception. It’s not true what they say, nice guys do finish first, and regularly too.

ON THE SEA SHORE

2007-11-09T06:56:00.000-08:00

I don't know why, but I thought I'd mix it up a bit on the blog with a film review. I'm no Barry Norman, but let's give this a shot.

Saw Saw 4 last week after seeing Saw 2 and Saw 3 before I saw Saw 4... on the sea shore. The bottom line is that, well, it's more of the same really and doesn't really add anything to its predecessors. Whilst the first one had originality, tension, character development and a little mystery, this one continues the theme of the other sequels that 'more is more', when I really think 'less is more' in these situations.

In the right hands, rather than Beavis and Butthead, these films should have been one of the best collection of horror films ever made, but instead, we're arrived at a 4th installment which is almost a parody of the Saw film itself, and sometimes even manages to verge on comedy. A case example is the opening scene and the Braindead-esque (such an apt word) use of gore. Whilst you'll probably want to vomit into your popcorn on first showing, you'll be laughing about the ludicrousy of it all on the way home rather than having any unwanted nightmares.

It's clear to me that the writers have just been told by some big wig somewhere, "make lots of traps", and whilst this is entertaining for a while (I personally like the one where one is blind, the other unable to speak), it soon becomes rather tedious as the traps aren't particularly innovative anymore and there seems to be one around every corner. At least the victims of these devices are worthy this time though. Last time it was a depressed nurse and a poor fella unable to get over the death of his son (yes, great choice Jigsaw - punish them!), but now we're back to drug dealers, rapists, and so on, so at least there's a return of logic somewhere in the film.

What is probably the saving grace, and I'm not usually a great advocater of over-exposing the villain, are the Jigsaw flashbacks, which prove to be the most successful scenes, (1) because Tobin is the only good actor in the film and still manages to make the character interesting with that slight sense of 'he can flip at any given moment' and (2) it's the only time the film slows down, tries to add some depth to the narrative and actually avoid the nonsensical. The most intriguing thing about these scenes, is that it actually enables you to sympathise with the Jigsaw character, making him more likable than the other characters. That in itself is bizarre seeing that he is the antagonist and likes to send people to hell and back, but at least it's intriguing.

Whilst there are numerous other flaws with the film - the stupid camera effects that make the film hard to follow, too many protaganists, the failure to successfully intertwine the other films into the story, two new coppers that look the same, the illogical decisions of characters, the dreary, unoriginal settings - this showing is still an improvement on the third and possibly hovering around the standard of the second, mainly because, amid all its faults, it still has enough appeal, shock value and morality (making the guy try to see what he sees is the most fascinating part) to entertain for 90 minutes. However, I think this might be the end. The well set-up, but 'we don't care' revealing of the accomplice is clearly hinting at a Saw 5 to follow next Halloween, but by that time, I'm almost certain that viewers will finally turn away if the writers just churn out the same old tosh once again. If they kept the story simple, held back on the gore a little and focused on just a couple of key characters, then they'd be in with a shot, but somehow, I just can't see this happening.

I give it 3 stars. 1 for Tobin, 1 for at least making the effort to push this further than the usual dumb teen slasher, 0.5 for traps and 0.5 for baps. Hold on, there weren't any baps. Okay, gonna have to give it 2.5. What I expected, can't complain.

ESCAPING THE DOGHOUSE

2007-10-27T10:23:00.000-07:00

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. You might take a fleeting glance at another woman, perhaps you've incorrectly answered the "do I look fat in this?" question, maybe you've even dared to disagree with the love of your life, but all of these crimes pale in comparison to eliminating your girlfriend from a £1,000 GUKPT tournament.

Last week, after pimping myself off to a few interested investors, I decided to take a pop at the penultimate GUKPT event and stump up the 1k buy-in. After a good performance at the Gutshot, I felt my game was in good nick and so fancied myself for a score here. Also, given that I can't afford to play the 3.5k Main Event, this was my last chance to give the Tour a crack before the inaugural season came to a close. The structure is excellent and it's a very affordable buy-in, so it would have been a shame if I hadn't graced it with my presence at least once this year.

I won't bore you with my own personal hand history of the event, but it may be worth retelling my double-up. Raising it up with A-T pre-flop, I was called in two places by Lam Trinh and Paul Dobson, only for all three of us to check a dangerous Q-9-x Flop. A King on the Turn, and after they both checked again, I thought it was worth a bet to try and steal the pot. Dobson folded, but Trinh was having none of it and called. I was expecting a tricky decision on the River, but the Jack that arrived kind of made life easier, and after Trinh had check-raised me, I re-checked my cards and pushed all-in.

At this point, Trinh dipped into the think tank for what seemed an age. The bloggers gathered round, Trinh fiddled with his chips, and I chanted "call, call, call" (not out loud, obviously). Clearly not at his first dance, Trinh even feigned a call at one point by sliding his chips across the felt and grinding to a halt just before the end. Some frown upon this and label it bad sportsmanship, but I don't mind it. Psychology is a big part of the game, and if you are foolish to reveal a tell in this situation, then you probably don't deserve to be called.

I don't know whether he saw something amiss, or just didn't see how I could bet an A-T on the Turn, but Trinh called in the end and looked understandably dejected when he saw my hand. The blogs all seem to have seen different cards in front of Trinh, but no one seems to have reported what he actually had... a pocket pair of tens.

This double up was all well and good, but as alluded to in the opening paragraph, the truly crucial moment was when I near ended my relationship with one Dana Immanuel. I'm very disapproving of softplay, so when Dana pushed all-in for 5.5k and blinds of 200/400 with 7-7, I didn't hesitate to call with my Pocket Queens. No Seven arrived and I was in big big trouble.

As she offered her hand in defeat, I felt a slight twist in what was a firmer than normal handshake, and it was then that I realsied I'd be sleeping in the bath tub for the rest of the week. All I can say is, thank God it was my birthday, it gave me a little leeway in that all I wanted as a present was forgiveness.

What really unnerved me was when she said, "I don't mind you knocking me out, as long as you win some money." Gulp. At this point I knew the smiles were only temporary, and that the pressure was now double what it was before. Cash and lose the dosh, or cash and lose a testicle. Crikey, it's a lose lose situation, but I'd rather hand out some money on a platter rather than a love sphere.

Perhaps this is what spurred me on, because although I struggled to find any hands or opportunities on Day 2, I did just about enough to make it into into the last 36 for what was a 3k payday. I finished Day 1 well above average, so was a tad disappointed to have not extended on that, but still, I would be returning for Day 3 nonetheless with a shot at the 120k first prize.

Day 3 arrived, and when the dust settled and the smoke cleared, I finished in 19th place. Out of circa 430 players, 19th is pretty commendable, and at least provided proof that I was capable of going deep in these comps. Unfortunately, I just couldn't find the vital double up when I needed it, otherwise I really think I was in with a shout. However, I didn't get Aces, Kings or Queens once in those final two days, and when very few flops are being seen, you need to find a hand at some point.

Anyhow, what it has done is make me hungry for more. I'm working the Dublin EPT, but when I return I'll be playing Waterford and pencilling in a few dates on the UK calender. I like the look of the 50k GJP event, and Season 2 of the GUKPT is sure to tempt me, so hopefully I'll make a big final table in the near future. I'd better escape that doghouse first though, I can see the door, but have yet to get through it.

THE THIRD MAN

2007-10-17T19:54:00.000-07:00

During the World Series of Poker Europe, I recall one surreal moment when a line of celebrated poker authors crossed my path as I sat perched at my laptop. Grouping together on the balcony, it was as if they'd momentarily found common ground and formed their own little book club for them to discuss how they made their name in the industry armed with nothing but a pen.

First up, was Des Wilson, who was striking fear into my heart by telling me that the first chapter of his 300 plus page book that I had just started reading was the best chapter - he, in my humble opinion, was thankfully wrong and the rest of my read wasn't the downhill slide that I'd been threatened with.

Behind him, was a hunched Al Alvarez, the much loved-author of 'The Biggest Game In Town', but showing his age at 78 as he hobbled before me. A great man, according to my flat mate and not easy-to-please colleague, Jen Mason.

Then, beyond them was... er, hold on, who the eck is he?

"This is Michael Craig," claims Des as he attempts to introduce me to the third man.

At this point, there is an awkward silence. Before me stands a foreboding figure with a menacing stare. He is middle-aged, plump and balding; in fact, he looks like every other poker player I've ever met, and perhaps that's the problem. I recognise the name, but not the face, and as I try desperately to work out why the words Michael and Craig are familiar, Des and Michael await my response with somewhat baited breath.

"Er... hi ya, how's it going?" is the best I can muster as I continue to rack my brains.

Suddenly, a light bulb glistens in the labyrinth of my convoluted mind. "Hey, didn't he write something?" I ask myself. "Wasn't it that book about the banker, and the er... something or other?"

"You wrote er..." I hesitate embarrassingly.

If memory serves me correct, Des added "The Professor, The Banker and the Suicide King" segment of my incomplete question with a certain sense of suprise for my ignorance. Meanwhile, Michael's flabber is a little gasted and I can detect the words "How can you not know who I am?" dying to spurt from his lips.

In truth, as a journalist, I ought to know who our third man is, but I must confess to never touching his book. In fact, I'm not a big reader, and if I do delve into the world of poker literature, it tends to be within the realms of strategy as I look to improve my own game.

As it became clear that I wasn't particularly accustomed to the name Michael Craig and that I hadn't set eyes on his widely purchased creation, our limited 'Hi, how's it going?, "Fine, you?" dialogue soon ended and I tip-toed red-faced back to my computer.

What is most outrageous about this rather unfulfilling anecdote, however, is not that I didn't know who our dear Mr Craig was, but that he didn't have the foggiest who I was. Quite remarkable! I'm like bigger than the Queen these days.