Killarney Part 2

Thursday 1st October

Woke up bright and early for Lunch and made our way over to the Card room. Marios and the rest of the Ladbrokes guys were running round erecting banners and stuff. I did my bit to help and stayed out of the way.

That night we had arranged a special tourney to be played on the main stage during the super satellite. It would be 6 Brits, 6 Scandies and 6 Irish. It would consist of 3 tables of 6, 2 from each team. The top 2 from each table playing the final. Points would be awarded to finalists. Six for 1st down to 1 for 6th. It was a 100 euro buy-in and we decided to split the money if our team won.

Our team consisted of Myself, Tim “T8MML” Blake, Richard “Daddymac” Sinclair, Bill “BBMoney” Fenn, Alex “Alexb” Bowler and Paul “LordLucan” McCann. Tim was my partner.

The middle table had the comfiest chairs so being team captain we sat there. (I told Tim that’s why to save his feelings, they looked like they were the strongest ones)

I started well and took a slender lead.
Blinds 50/100 I raise to 275 with A7 off suit. The scandi boy called from the button and the flop came 10c Jc 6d. I check, he bets 350.
“Are you at it” I ask. And he gives me a nervous smile. I raise to 900 he pauses, then calls. He knows I could be at it so I suspect he just wants to see what I do on the turn. The turn is a 4 of clubs and I check to him again. This time he bets 1100 leaving himself around 2500. I am certain he can’t call a raise and make it 2300 to go. I was right and he folds. Of course I have to show my hand, it was only a bit of fun after all. Big mistake, all respect from here was gone. (Not that I get much)
He tapped the table and said pocket sevens. I have a lot of respect for Scandinavians. Unlike many British Players they understand that the best hand doesn’t always win. They are not ashamed to pass the best hand to a good play. They don’t ever get mad when they are bluffed. Bluff a British player once and he would rather go to bed broke than risk you doing it to him again.
I raised from the button the next 2 rounds. Once with AJ, another with QJ of diamonds. Both times Alan “Biglad” Truick pushes all in. After the 3rd time, I make a stand and call with A8. He has QK and when the flop comes A J 3 I am in great shape. That was until of course the jammy Irish bastard rivered the 10. ARGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG.
Still had plenty of chips though and when the other Irish Lad on the button pushes on my big blind, calling with AK of spades was not tough. However him spiking a winning pair with his 67 off, was!
Whoever said the Irish are lucky. Doh!

I had just enough left to make the big blind pass and push all in under the gun (5 handed by now) with 23 of diamonds. Mr 67 called this time holding AQ. I was unable to return the favour and a harmless board meant I was forced to be a spectator. Roy Brindley, the non Irish, Irish Captain, had been first to exit. So I didn’t feel too bad.

The final consisted of AlexB and BBMoney (representing the side of truth and justice), 2 Scandies, and the two lucky Irish bastards from my table (Who’s bitter?). Being a team event, collusion, slowrolling and rub downs were actively encouraged (at least by me). It was no surprise then that the two players from each team who had qualified for the final had both come from the same tables.
The Irish boys luck had run out and they finished in 6th and 5th leaving the Brits battling it out with their old adversaries.

After dispatching Scandi number 1 it was 2 brits v’s the young fish Jonas “Nebuchad” Danielson. A fellow Ladbrokes pro. His game is a little weak and his chances would be small…………………. Yeah right he smashed us.

(Had the pleasure to talk a few scenarios over with Jonas the night before, his thinking on the game is possibly beyond that of any other player in the world)

BBMoney was trying to explain how he made a huge (Uncallable move) which Jonas called to win.
“He’s a fish” he declared, yeah, yeah! HEEEE’S the fish.

Due to some stupid rule that I wasn’t consulted on, despite the points being even, the winning player took the prize for his team. Sigh!

One consolation was Kila had won her seat for the Main event during the super Satellite. Very well done, considering she had struggled for chips for much of the event.

Now I have been Playing poker for over 5 years, 4 of those professionally. In all that time, none of my mates from Chorley has ever joined me at an event. Finally my good friend Steve Trafford had qualified. (AKA Slim-Gifted, Ironic name as he is neither) He was joined by three other of our friends. Martin “Big Mart” Holcroft, Mick “The Pud” Parkinson and Dave “Dopey” Hope.
(These are not online poker alias’. Needless to say Chorley is not a great place to be given a nickname. Nobody is called “Ace”, “Chopper” or “Butch”. You get things like “Fat Dave”, “Fat Ging” or “Brain Damage” etc. In fact how big Marty gets away with it I don’t know. Maybe because he’s a lump who would clobber anyone who called him a less than flattering name)

It was getting late and it was time to prepare for the main event.
About 12 pints did the trick.

Just a note. The phrase “Scandi” is what we call our Scandinavian friends. They do not take offense as many have told me such. It is used as a term or endearment much in the same way we call people Taff’s, Jocks and Paddies and they call us English Bastards.