"I've always thought there was something really dirty about that girl" says the semi-well known British pro in seat ten to nobody in particular, as an attractive female casino employee walks past. The World Series of Poker is getting under way in Las Vegas. The best players in the world along with thousands of wannabees to play for astronomical sums of money and a chance for a shot at fame and glory. But I'm not there. I'm in Walsall, deep in the heart of the Black Country, playing a £100 freezeout . And to be fair, there's a pretty big turnout for a Bank Holiday Monday - 165 runners makes it a tournament worth winning for sure. I'm here with my friend Joe, somewhat of a veteran of these casino crapshoot tournaments, having spent his time in the trenches in Coventry, Birmingham and *gulp* Dudley. Sadly for Joe, he busts within the first half hour and after doing half my stack to the aforementioned known pro when I flop two pair with 4-5 suited and relucta...
of no specific waterways relevance...