DUBLIN BELLYBUSTERS

So get this. I'm in this orphanage in Dublin. It's 1969 and today is my 10th birthday. I'm not really an orphan but my mother gave birth to me out of wedlock so I was taken off her as a newborn and sent here. The priests who run the orphanage are friendly most of the time - "Make your 60 rosaries a day without messing and you won't get a beating". It's a fair deal and they keep their end most of the time.

So this morning, I'm finished serving mass. I'm in the Sacristy, taking off my cassock when the priest comes in. He tells me that because it's my birthday, I can have some altar wine. I take a big gulp and immediately feel a bit funny. Next thing I know, the priest is touching me in a strange way. I'm thinking: "What the fuck are you doing?" I try to leave but he grabs me. He fucks me in the ass. I start to cry. He fucks me in the mouth. I'm so upset after that I go back to my room and start punching myself in the face.

Luckily my face heals. Later that day, another priest comes into my bedroom. I tell him what happened and he tells me that I deserved whatever I got. He tells me that I am a bastard child and I should be grateful to have a home at all. I go outside and squish as many ants as I can find.

The next day, I tell my best friend about what happened. I ask him if I should write a letter to the police. He tells me that there's no point. He says that the last kid who did that was beaten so badly that he never came back from the hospital. "That's bullshit", I say. He looks at me: "I'm sorry dude", he says, "but it's just something you have to get used to. It happens to everyone here from time to time."  

"No fuck you!", I say, "This can't be something we have to just put up with. Where do these priests get off behaving this way". So I write my letter and a policeman comes. He brings me to the police station and asks me about what happened. I tell him and he tells me that I am lying. I swear to him that it is the truth and tell him that it has also happened to lots of my friends. He tells me that I am a trouble-maker. He says that if I don't stop making up these stories, he'll put me in prison.

That night, I am beaten and raped by two of the priests at the same time. When they are finished, they spit on me and tell me that I am going to Hell. They tell me that I better get used to it and do you know what the weird thing is? I did.

Forty years on and I am celebrating my fiftieth birthday. Opening the newspaper, I read how the members of the clergy involved in child sex abuse are being publicly commended by the Archbishop of Westminster, Rev Vincent Nichols. According to him, it takes great 'courage' for them to confront their actions. "I think of those in religious orders", he says, "who have to face these facts from their past which instinctively and quite naturally they'd rather not look at".

Quite right. I am thinking of them too. I am thinking how dreadful it must be for them. As I know only too well, nobody likes listening to a bad beat story and I can only imagine it garners even less sympathy coming from the perspective of the ones who inflicted the beats.

A few moments ago, I won a $200 Satellite to The Full Tilt Poker - Espana Series. The tournament had 61 entrants and as such, gave away 4 $3K prize packages with 5th getting his money back. I couldn't resist taking a punt for two reasons:

I excel in tournaments of this size.
The field was full of Spanish players and had not a single recognised player.

As was my hope, the tournament played super-soft and I easily negotiated my way to a chip-lead come final table time. From there, it was a case of boxing clever. With 6 left, I surrendered my chip-lead but I was never in danger with the short-stacks going at each other in a battle for survival. Oddly, the tournament continued after the 5th place finisher hit the rail. We all had our packages in the bag but played it out for the glory. I finished in 1st place after my Q9 beat my opponent's K4 all-in preflop.

The package includes flights to Madrid, hotel accommodation, a €1500 seat in Event I and a little spending money. The tournament is a 3-day affair but has a guarantee of just $150K, implying there won't be a big turnout. Here's hoping for the 2nd installment of the 'I Don't Hate Live Poker' saga!

Last night, I played a handful of MTTs. My 45ers went terribly and I was down about 1K with just two games left. One of them was a 69er and one was the $25K Guarantee. I took 3rd in the 69er and had the chip-lead with 200 left in the 25K. Two hours later, there were 35 remaining and I was 5th. Nick 'Rounder63' Carrillo was railing me and I sold 10% of my action to him. I had pieces of Nick for two of his last four big scores so I was determined to repay the complement. I was also desperate to take down a big score as a bacon-less 8 weeks had resulted in an 8K MTT downswing.

A couple of bad-beats and one lost flip dented my chances as I plummeted out of the top5 and back to an average stack. I rebuilt well for the next hour and won a crucial race with AJ vs 1010 to be top5 again with 12 left. My friend and fellow Bellybuster Thang 'thang911' Nguyen was sitting to my immediate left and we pumped each other up for a 1-2 finish. He was, at this stage, however, nursing a short stack but a double-up would put him back in the hunt for the final table. It came when his QQ beat AJ and we were final table bound.

The standard on the final table was poor. With one exception, our opponents were weak tight, rarely defending and almost never 3-betting. I took the initiative and began raising every pot that got to me unopened. The tactic worked as I doubled my stack and took the chip-lead without much confrontation. Thang was busy enough, keeping himself above water but my loose style reduced his opportunities to late-position steal. From 6-handed on, I relentlessly pillaged the blinds. When resistance came, I was happy to fold because it was profitable to raise every pot pre-flop given how tight the table played. Thang moved into 2nd place, winning a big pot by knocking out the 6th place finisher. He had 1.4 million chips to my 2.5 million. The other 3 players had less than 700K.

5-Handed didn't last long as two of the short-stacks went at it. 4-handed was a different story as we battled for the best part of half an hour. I lost a big pot to Thang. Thang lost a big pot to one of the others. I took a shot at the short stack with 8-7 suited from the SB but his 10-4 held up. Unfazed, I continued to make my pre-flop raises. Thang seemed to target my blinds which was actually a really smart tactic as they were the only pots where I couldn't get a raise in before him. I defended on two occasions but check-folded when I failed to connect. The one thing I didn't want to do was get out of line versus the only decent player left.

Finally, the short-stack died when he ran into my AQ. I had 3 million while Thang and the other guy had 1.5 million each. 10 minutes later, they went at it preflop, getting it all-in with A10 and AJ. Thang had the AJ and they held when he flopped trips. We had almost identical stacks and agreed to chop, winning $7800 each. Playing on for the honour and the title, I got the better of my friend, winning a big pot when I flopped a straight and finishing him off when my 1010 held versus his Q7.

It was a fantastic achievement as we outlasted almost 2000 players in what was one of the biggest $24 fields of all time. It was my biggest score to date and I followed it up this afternoon with a 2nd place in the $30 Turbo Event. This poker is a streaky business. Bring on the streaky bacon!

Bump for the following animated movie.

My good friend Stinky Budz sent me the link and I cried with laughter when I first watched it. It is destined to be quoted ad nauseum in poker circles.

"You're a role-model", said Donald Trump to a victorious Joan Rivers, the woman who had, for the previous 6 episodes, delivered a most vitriolic public attack on her fellow contestant. Rivers called Annie Duke a 'Nazi'. She called her 'scum' and said that she would 'spit on the ground and drown her mother in it'. She called her 'a despicable human being', a 'piece of shit' and 'beyond white trash'. She called her two-faced and compared her to Hitler, a comment that she has since stood behind.

Not content with verbally abusing Annie's character, she called into question the character of the people with whom she associated. She degraded the generosity shown by Annie's poker friends, calling them Mafiosi and claiming that their money had blood on it. Never, in the history of Reality Television, has a person been subjected to such vile and unwarranted attacks as Annie Duke was made to endure. But this was all model behaviour according to 'The Donald'. These incidents were laudable and demonstrated to him that she was a worthy winner of his show. Of course, the fact that his blood relative works for Joan's charity had nothing to do with the outcome.

Reality Television is a cynical business. The moments that appear most 'real' are almost always the moments that are scripted or contrived. Public opinion inexplicably swayed in Joan's favour in recent weeks. America rallied behind her as a bastion for good versus the evil, conniving 'pokah playa'! Nothing was spared in an effort to conjure up the notion that Joan had the moral high-ground. Even poor ol' God got thrown into the mix as, with sledgehammer subtlety, the holy Joes rushed to her assistance in a crisis - a crisis which might have been of her own making but was far more likely the brainchild of the show's producers. In fact, David Tutera, the party planner who was at the centre of the onscreen clash, has since come out in the media saying that The Apprentice producers 'manipulated' the situation by telling him ahead of time that he was not to give Rivers any ideas of his own.

In short, Annie was set-up. She was busy winning the game, unaware that it was a game within a game. You may need to be calculated, gutsy and deceptive to succeed in poker but you need to be cunning, cut-throat and downright dishonest if you're going to make it in the Entertainment Industry. That was Joan's edge all along.

Today was my last Sunday before I return to Ireland. As I sat, drinking my Dunkin's Caramel French Vanilla Iced latte (God, I miss real coffee!), watching Max's Little League Baseball Game (God, I miss cricket!), I started reminiscing about a recent live poker experience that wasn't loathsome. Well, initially I started reminiscing about the highlights of my cricket career (Yes, 'highlights' plural - fuck you all! There has been more than one!) but Michelle threatened to take her own life.

As you may recall from an earlier blog, the poker game at the Skyline Bar/Restaurant in Windsor Locks has a great structure, a heated venue and for the most part, a friendly bunch of regulars. (There was the 'chip-dumping-from-the-hoody-pocket-gate' scandal and another time when I got into up in a verbal contre-tente with a weird-looking red-neck who seemed to get his fashion and personal grooming tips from Hulk Hogan circa 1988.) I normally do everything in my powers to avoid a live poker game with strangers but two reasons compelled me to play:

1. This is a good game, expertly run by a genuine and friendly poker enthusiast by the name of Bob (a Mohegan Sun cash game regular).
2. Michelle loves live poker a little bit more than I hate it.

Michelle and I arrived fashionably late to discover that the game had been moved from to the bar due to a 'Sweet 16' Birthday party in the hall. Little did we know at the time but this meant that about two hours later, we would be made to suffer the Saturday Night Karaoke from ear-achingly close proximity. We took our seats and I immediately began pillaging my table, building my starting stack of 1500 to over 7K in the first hour. One bad call cost me a quarter of my stack and a disgusting beat cost me another quarter so when we finally got down to 3 tables, I was grinding an average stack.

It was around this time that Michelle got knocked out. She sat behind me for 20 minutes or so before a cash-game got started and I allowed her a peak at my hole cards. On the first hand she saw, I treated her to a devilishly good/reckless squeeze play when I shipped my 5K  stack with A5 suited after a raise to 600 from early position and two callers put 2100 out there to be thieved. As the final table approached (the tournament of 55 paid out all 9 final tablers) and we were short-handed on two tables, I began opening every pot that got to me unopened and re-raising those that had been. My stack went from 9K to 13K during these two orbits of indiscriminate aggression.

Disaster struck on the final table as I ran my AK into Aces with 7 players remaining. I lost and was left with just 2K in chips or one big blind. I waited two hands before shoving King-10 which was called by two players before the player in the Small Blind isolated with an over-shove. The other two players folded and the Small Blind tabled 88, giving me a coin-flip to more than quadruple up. A King came in the window and I held, taking down a 9K pot. I shoved 3 of the next 4 hands to hammer my way back to a top 3 stack. At this point the blinds doubled to 2K/4K and unsurprisingly, this spelled the end of the three short stacks in quick succession.

Four-handed and with 6K just sitting out there each hand, I went into jam-bot mode. The 4th place finisher blinded himself out, refusing to pick a spot until he was all-in for his big blind. Three-handed action lasted about 5 minutes before the other two players got it in with A8 and JJ. The Big-Stack's JJ held and he went Heads-up with me with a 2:1 advantage.  With the blinds were 4K/8K, we each took turns shoving before I got too clever for my own good and min-raised with Q3. Figuring he would miss 67% of flops, my plan was to shove on any flop and most likely win a bigger pot. The flop came 578 and he insta-called me with an ugly 83. It held and I picked up $550 for 2nd place. In retrospect, I should have just shoved pre-flop but c'est la vie!

Meanwhile on the cash table, Michelle was into her 2nd buy-in, her first having been bad-beated off her in a pot that she played perfectly, trapping her wild opponents by slow-playing her AQ only for JQ to river her after all the money was already in. She had also had a fight with a player at her table after he mucked his hand after the player in the side-pot with him folded. He forgot that Michelle was still in the hand - she had gone all-in preflop. Regardless of the fact that he had the better hand, his cards were in the muck, an error that should have cost him the entire main pot. He raked in the pot and refused to give it up. She gave him a trademark ear-bashing and they reached a compromise, electing to split the main pot.

Michelle was in no mood to leave so I ordered a quesadilla. Ten minutes later, she got into a hand with the other lady at the table. Michelle raised to $21 UTG (there was a $4 straddle) and she re-raised, making it $43 to go. Michelle called and the flop came all babies. She fired out a bet of $37 and Michelle shoved for a little over $150. She insta-called and showed AK. Michelle proudly tabled her hooks. Boom came the Ace on the turn and she was insta-fisted, drawing dead to a Jack which didn't come. I took my quesadilla to go and we headed to the exit, conducting the obligatory post-mortem, agreeing that the call with AK was pretty atrocious. She played great all night and lost $250. "I hate live poker!", she said. I couldn't resist a rye smile.

The following is inspired by true events. However, the following scenes are fictitious. They are the contents of my imagination and in no way depict actual events. Any similarity to the actual events are coincidental...

                                                                                                     FADE IN:

INT. MICHAEL'S CRAIG'S OFFICE. DAY.

We see an epic shot of the back of a man sitting at his desk, looking at his computer monitor. He is wearing underpants and a robe.

A familiar song intro plays:

"Dum-dededum-dededum-dededum!"

As the camera pans in, we can see that the man is multi-tabling - HEADS-UP NO LIMIT HOLD'EM AND HORSE GAMES. With the use of his mouse, he navigates his cursor around the screen, furiously hitting keys. We do not see his face.

"Dum-dededum-dededum-dededum!"


INT. MICHAEL CRAIG'S GYMROOM. DAY.

We see feet running at a gentle canter on a treadmill. The camera pans up to reveal a plank of wood resting on top of the console upon which is a laptop computer. There are 4 Heads-up games in action - again a mixture of NO LIMIT HOLD'EM AND HORSE.

"Dum-dedum-dedum-dedum-dum-dum-dum!"

From behind, we see the figure running on the treadmill. He wears shorts and an "I KNOCKED OUT A FULL TILT PRO" T-Shirt. He also has a towel around his neck.


INT. MICHAEL'S CRAIG'S OFFICE. DAY.

The door of the office is open. In the doorway, a man is embraced by his wife. There is a tear in the corner of her eye as he pulls away.

"De-noo-noo!
De-noo-noo!"

He leans down to hug his teenage daughter. Her face is insouciant.

"De-noo-noo
De-noo-noo!"

For the first time we see his face - it is Michael Craig. He kisses his daughter on the cheek, whispers something inaudible into her ear and turns to enter the room, making a final gesture - eye-contact and a solemn smile - to his wife.

"De-ne-noo-de-ne-ne-ne-noo!
De-ne-noo-de-noo-de-noo-noo-noooooo!
De-ne-ne-ne-noo!"

He is walking across the room to the computer console when suddenly he is grabbed from behind - his daughter throwing her arms around him, telling him how much she loves him and how she knows he's gonna be okay. He hugs her back.

"De-ne-noooooo!
De-ne-noooooo!"

                                         MICHAEL CRAIG
                    I promise you. Everything's gonna be ok. Those
                    Bellybusters don't have a chance...

He takes his seat at his computer. We can see on the computer's display that it is 9.30pm on May 7th 2009. Michael Craig launches Full Tilt...

"De-ne-noooooo!
De-ne-noooooo!"

                                                                                         FADE TO BLACK.

To find out what happened, go to:

http://www.dublinbellybusters.com/props.html

or

http://www.fulltiltpoker.com/poker-blog/2009/05/739_craig_vs_dublin_bellybusters_heads-up_the_outcome.php

Extra, Extra, Read All About It! Michael Craig has accepted the challenge from Patrick 'Dr Fill Good' McAllister, Nick 'Rounder63' Carrillo and my good self.

What challenge is that, I hear you say? It is a Heads-up Cash Game Relay Challenge with the proceeds and side-action going to Relay For Life - a charity of The American Cancer Society (ACS). What will it entail? Michael will play Patrick, Nick and I in 50c/$1 Deepstacked NLHE and $2/$4 HORSE for three hours. We will tag in and out relay-style on the hour but Michael will have no such luxury. Not only will the winners donate their spoils to Relay but Patrick and Michael have agreed to pledge an additional $250 to Relay in the event of their side losing money over all.

For more information and developments on this challenge plus ways for you to partipate vicariously in the fun (by way of sidebets/prop-bets), go to the BadBeatsPoker.net site and:

http://www.badbeatspoker.net/forum/challenges/3747-michael-craigs-greatest-challenge-ever-how-dr-fill-good-terrific-guy.html#post28910

Also, to read Michael's perspective on the challenge and more on the great cause for which we will be battling, go to the Ful Tilt Poker Blog and:

http://www.fulltiltpoker.com/poker-blog/2009/05/737_why_poker_players_are_awesome_part_2_or_3_or_5_or_50.php

Everybody knows somebody affected by cancer. For about 90 years, the ACS has been leading the efforts to cure, treat, detect and educate about cancer. In 1945, the ACS began funding cancer research and has, to date, contributed approximately 3 billion dollars. Please follow Dr Fill's generous lead and join us for what will be a fabulous and worthwhile event.