Wednesday, June 11, 2008



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!


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