DUBLIN BELLYBUSTERS

My girlfriend Michelle often gives out to me about never doing what I plan to do. She can't understand it when I change our dinner reservations 10 minutes before our booking or just decide I'm staying where I am for a bit longer for no better reason than that I quite like it and don't feel like leaving yet. I guess I like to think i am spontaneous but there is actually a deeper underlying truth about me at work here. I don't think we, as humans, have a final destination - be it spiritual, afterlife, etc. I think that when we die, well... that's it. I don't believe, to quote my mother, that 'things happen for a reason', I don't believe that we are essentially good or bad or that we get what we deserve. I don't even think there is any way to measure what a person (but not a poker-player) deserves. While my belief that there is no intelligent design behind it all makes me a rather cynical creature, I also think it liberates me with a tremendous sense of horizon.

I am loathed to feel fixed into an arrangement, to work a 9-5, to make long-term commitments or even have dogmatic/rigid opinions. Don't get me wrong - I am still loyal and I would like to think of myself as fundamentally reliable. I just don't want to feel trapped into anything. I want every moment to be a constant decision to want to still do what I am doing. I guess I've done everything I can to structure my life so that, where possible, I have that sort of freedom. Now, try to explain that to your girlfriend - that you don't like the idea of permanence and marriage but that you actually think that's a good thing because it means that you are always re-affirming your desire to be who you are, do what you're doing, be with who you are with. Tricky!

Anyway, I digress, but this all came to mind because today I decided to stay in London for two more days. Sitting in a cafe with my luggage a couple of hours ago, I realised I just didn't want to go to the airport. My flight was about 5 bucks inc. taxes so it's not like I was precious about it. So, I just booked another flight, my friend Dave kindly offered to put me up for another two nights and I rang a friend of mine who I know is coming here tomorrow night. We made plans so now I even have someone to hang out with. All in all, it's my natural inertia kicking in, making me reluctant to do anything until I'm motivated or ready.

I have been keeping tabs on the goings-on at the Hellenic Center all afternoon, having slept the morning away in what was similar to a jet-lag induced coma. You see, while there is no time difference between Dublin and London, there is a significant difference between my hours and those of the 'real world'. My normal day starts at between 1pm and 3pm - a lie-in is 4pm and an early start is anything before midday. In preparation for the tourney, I got up at 11.30am on Sunday so that the shift would be gradual. Well my body is obviously having none of it and despite going to bed at a reasonable 3am last night, I woke today at 2.30pm. I guess I'm destined for life as a vampire.

Michael Craig has reported throughout the afternoon, announcing that the eventual winner was Adam Noone, an experienced online SNG specialist who had begun the table with a big chiplead. His coverage did not, however extend into the Heads-Up results which may be kept hush-hush so as not to spoil the TV coverage. In any case, I hope he does well. When the interviewer asked me yesterday who the toughest would be, I told them that I thought it would be Chris Ferguson as he is probably the best heads-up poker player in the world. Not that i think Ivey or DeWolfe would be too shabby either but I do think that they are both capable of overplaying a marginal hand against an amateur, feeling that they could over-power them. Contriving a situation like that, for me, would be the challengers best chance of winning.

I am heading back to Dublin tomorrow evening where I will, no doubt, go back to the online tournament grind. My last 8 weeks have been my most lucrative since turning pro(fitable) back in July '07 and I hope that continues. The question most people have been asking me is whether or not I plan to play more live games, either in Dublin or in Connecticut when I get there in October. The answer I give them is always the same - "When casino's higher dealers who can deal 60 hands an hour and allow me to play in the centre of a Venn Diagram of 8 tables, then I will consider it. Until then, the $20-$50 Full Tilt Tourney Circuit is my place of work."

I just put my hand in my pocket to take out my credit card and as I open my wallet out drops a Hendon Mob card protector, given to me earlier by Joe Beevers. At the time, I was chatting with him, fellow mobster Barny Boatman and Gary Jones. It was a sort-of consolation prize. Barny remembered me from the night before when I had asked him online if he would play the Bellybusters tourney. He was very jovial and self-deprecating about his role as Final Table commentator with Gary and Robert Williamson III the next day - “I’m there more for light relief as I am unable to offer any real poker insights.” Joe, on the other hand, is a very cool customer; very tall, not at all unfriendly but certainly more withdrawn and serious than I expected. It was nice of him to give me this little trinket but it would have been nicer still to have some cards to put under it.

Later on, I was talking with Gary who told me I looked the spitting image of Navan comedian Dermot Moran. My hair was a wee bit on the spiky-disheveled side but beyond that I didn’t see the resemblance. I also wasn’t sure if it was meant as a complement, a friendly jab or a neutral comment. Gary is a groovy, slightly hippie sort of guy so I can’t imagine he was trying to wind me up by telling me that in that moment, I looked like Ireland’s red-wine swilling poet-comedian who abounds in charm but not in sophistication. Luckily, Joe came back over before I got a chance to find out. He unloaded some more Hendon Mob paraphernalia on me and I thanked him, telling him that they would be on e-bay within the hour.

I am sitting in the dim-sum restaurant just a few metres down from the Hellenic Centre. I overheard a member of Full Tilt staff say it was the only decent place locally so I figured, if its good enough for Ivey-et-al, it’s good enough for little old me and my laptop. I decided I would sit outside for two reasons:

Firstly, I don’t want Michael Craig to think I’m stalking him as he has been more than friendly all day and I want to leave him be with his colleagues.

Secondly, it’s a really nice warm evening and I would prefer to eat al fresco.

Low and behold… an internet signal. The restaurant has its own Wi-Fi so I took the opportunity to tell my girlfriend Michelle about my ‘bustedness’ but also how much I enjoyed the day. She seemed more disappointed than me and I realized how well I was taking my defeat. Its funny – I am not beyond a wee temper tantrum when I lose a $50 game online (that’s not exactly true, my threshold probably extends to multiple online defeats in a row before my toys are thrown) but yet I was unperturbed at being eliminated here. Maybe I’m growing up or maybe being in ‘real company’ forces you to take it on the chin with some grace. Anyway, from there, I ate my prawn toast, squid satay and duck with hoi sin while typing some more blog entries.

Didn’t I get eliminated an hour ago? Well yes, but you see there are no trapdoors or burly bouncers to eject you once your time has come. This opens the door for LOSERS like myself to hang around in a desperate attempt to meet celebrity poker players. Michael was kind enough to do an introduction exchange – I introduced him to Hendon Mobster Joe Beevers (who has played in a couple of my private online games but I must admit to only meeting in person moments earlier) and he introduced me to Andy Bloch whose game I have always admired, believing him to be the most under-rated of the world’s elite. Andy was, as you can imagine, another likeable man, friendly and willing to talk strategy with a perfect stranger. He had just arrived as part of the TEAM FULL TILT CELEBRITY BANDWAGON who included Phil Ivey, Chris Ferguson, Roland DeWolfe and Allen Cunningham. I exchanged brief words with Allen who again was super-polite, not at all reticent and happy to meet-n-greet.

Remember that bit about me winning my coin-flips? Well I didn’t. I lost two of them. With 7K in chips and the blinds 200/400, the button raised into my BB. I looked down at JJ and asked for a count of his stack. He had 3100 so I just shoved. He called, showing big slick and we we’re off to the races. I did the hard work, dodging an Ace or King on the flop but he turned an Ace to double up and reduce me to a short-stack. One of the other players asked me if that meant I was dangerous now. I told him it probably meant I was pot-committed in my SB. Of course I wasn’t – I still had over 3500 but when it got round to me Blind versus Blind the next hand, I shoved with A10. The BB folded and I flashed the Ace for the table, explaining that I wouldn’t be open-shoving with rags…. I swear!

The next hand it got to me on the button with A8. Again I shoved and again, I took down the blinds. So I was back to just over 4K. A round later and the blinds had gone up. I let them pass through me as there was always a raise in front of me and each time I had rags. Finally, I looked down at 44 in the Hijack. With 900 in dead-money out there I wasn’t about to get cute and shoved. The BB made a marginal but I think correct call with A9, muttering something about it being De Wolfe’s favorite hand. I prayed briefly that De Wolfe wasn’t a fan of pocket 5s before my opponent tabled A9. An Ace flopped and I was sent packing. Oh well. GG!

The first 3 levels are completed and from here on in it’s gonna be a shove-fest! We started with 5K in chips and with the first 3 levels being 25/50, 50/100 and 100/200, there was room for some play. I have made a point to be the chatty one at the table. People seem a little guarded, particularly when after I got them to reveal their on-line screen-names, I shouted up to Michael to Sharkscope them for me. So far, I have made a few bluffs, played positional small-ball and won all but one of the hands I have been involved in. The hand that I folded was when I had made a small reraise preflop, got both blinds to call and then made a continuation bet on a 886 board and although he might have had the 6, I got re-raised by the SB and decided this wasn’t a good spot to continue with my 77. After the hand I asked him whether he had 9s or 10s to which he replied, “Yes, one of them!” Somewhat annoying was the fact that I got Aces in two of my first 5 hands and only took down the miserable blinds. I also got no action for my QQ just before the break.

I chatted with Michael during the break – he’s a thorough gentleman, not that I expected anything less. He asked me how I was doing, I gave him the run through on the hands I’d had but was quick to point out that it was now turbo-time and that I was gonna have to win a few coinflips over the next hour to hang about. Here’s hoping!

The sort-of nervy silence in the room has disappeared with a lot of conversations starting. The room is chock-a-block so I guess you can’t stand that close to someone without eventually saying hello. I haven’t spoken a word to anyone yet coz I’m furiously typing. The general dress is casual – mostly jeans and shirts or jeans and hoodies. Funny thing is I don’t feel over-dressed in my dress shirt and trousers because I actually feel comfortable in this garb. My uniform is normally my pajamas but as my friend Dave said to me this morning, “it’s like you’re joining the rest of us in the real world today”. My real world morning included an early wake-up call, a shower, a short walk and then a 20-minute journey on the tube from Fulham. Then, just like a real person, I popped into a café on my way to work to pick up a cappuccino. I wonder if my parents and school-teachers would be proud.

No matter what happens in the tournament, I definitely struck the first blow today by getting to the front of that queue half an hour ago. People are filing in to an increasingly cramped green room and I’m sitting comfortably and smugly at the back of the room with my laptop on one of the few tables. The mix of people is interesting. I reckon I might be one of the youngest. While I can’t tell who are the players and who are the spectators, 80% of the people here are 30-50 with a sprinkling of oldies and smaller sprinkling of 20-somethings. I don’t know why but I expected this to be a internet-kid event. The vast majority of the field are men with just a couple of women – one will be at my table.

I just caught a glimpse of Michael Craig with whom I’m looking forward to speaking. He seemed busy doing stuff in the lobby so I didn’t bother him.

The Hellenic Centre is a nice building – not the mammoth sports arena I was expecting. I got myself to the front of the queue and like Noah’s Arc, entry was in pairs. I, however, came alone – two reasons:
 
1 I think players having friends or partners here is gonna distract from their focus and I don’t want my attention compromised one iota.

2 I like facing challenges alone. I’m an existentialist, maybe even a inside-out/upside down twisted sort of nihilist and while I love the company of others, I think we are all fundamentally alone.

My girlfriend is understandably feeling left out but while I love her and would love her support, I also couldn’t consciously/financially justify her coming from Connecticut for what might be a five-minute affair. Not that I’m assuming the worst but it’s unrealistic to have high expectations as a tournament poker player. I think if this tourney could be played 1000 times, my results would be among the best. But it isn’t. So, as Joe Hachem would say – “One time baby, one time!”. On last week’s episode of WSOP 2008, Daniel Negreanu was quick to point out that Joe, ‘the lucky SOB’, should be saying “One more time, just one more time!”. While that may be true, I think he missed the point of what is a very existential phrase.

Texas Hold ‘em hand situations are replicated often so in the long-term, you will win about as often as you should. However, you will never be in that same point in time in your life again, with that same opportunity to pick up that pot and progress in that tournament. Your life is gonna change somehow based on the outcome on that turn of a card but crucially (and understandably), in that moment, poker players see it as changing for the better if they win. When people reach pivotal moments in their lives, they make decisions. Usually, they will survive to interpret retrospectively the value of those decisions (usually with the outcome/results of them in mind). However, when there is a chance that they will not survive - ie. 'life or death' situations - these moments carry a little more existential weight. Now, if we take the game of tournament poker as a metaphor for life (something which I will be doing a lot), then those times when we need to hit/miss particular cards in order to survive are exactly those moments.

I’m hoping my hands hold up 'one time' today as today would certainly be the most important time for them to hold up in my short poker career thus far. If they don’t, then so be it. I’m gonna have plenty of other opportunities, plenty of other one times!