This Bogus Poetry

As I get settled at my new table I took stock of my new opponents. Again it was a mixed table. There were a few younger internet player guys in logos, as well as a few older nittish tight guys. With the Russian who has a huge amount of chips on my right, I was facing a whole new calibre of opponent. I was fortunate to have direct position on him, but I knew that there would be no more easy progress and I would have to be on the top of my game from now on, even more so. He looked unassuming - about 14 and seemed like he was just about to start shaving, but I knew that appearances were deceptive and he would be a formidable opponent. Kostritsyn started as he meant to go on by raising a lot of pots and then getting involved post flop with a lot of small bets. I started patiently. I had not played with him before and possibly not played with anyone of that calibre before, so I wanted to try and get more of an idea of his play before I started to get out of line against him. After about an

I start the day with 159,700 chips which far exceeded any expectations of how I would progress in this event, especially after how my first few days in Vegas went. My progress had been comparatively serene and I'd managed to chip up without really playing a big pot. I'd been lucky and found good spots, but was also pleased with my ability to stay out of trouble which is a HUGE factor considering this is the slowest structured tournament of the year. My day three table draw was promising. I started as the largest stack on my table and had two excellent young players, Anders Taylor and Tristan Wade (online name Cr8ive), directly to my right. They both had nice stacks too, but I had direct position on them which would be a huge advantage, plus I figured I would also be unknown to them. The rest of my table was something of a mystery. I spent the evening beforehand reading Tristan Wade's blog to try and get a read on his play. I was well rested and as well prepared as I felt I

Much belated but here we go... After Day one, I have three days off and return to play day 2b on Saturday. My table is in the Amazon Room, very close to the Secondary Feature Table where 'The Unabomber' Phil Laak is no doubt going through some of his trademark ‘crazy antics’. It seemed like a pretty good table, with German Eddy Scharf the only name pro. I’d seen Scharf on TV and he seemed to play pretty tight, solid and predictable and I didn’t expect him to get out of line too much against a table of unknowns. Getting to my seat and scanning the table it was clear that I was the second youngest there. This was a marked contrast to the end of day one and a welcome sight. Table draw In seat one was a guy called Mario who was a nice guy and regular at Commerce. He was a decent player but called a little too much and spewed a little, something I looked to take advantage of. He also gave me a delicious burrito as he was allergic to tomato seeds. I was in seat three and each side of

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DSCF0311 , originally uploaded by phillhuxley . In the Three Cities area of Malta where my poker tournament took place, I noticed some cool, beat up looking buildings. Afterfiguring out how to get over there, I realised that they were part of an old dockyard which now seems closed down. Fences were around to stop people getting in and as there was bright sunlight and security, I n...ever even tried that one, but I managed to take some nice exterior shots.

I've just arrived in Malta to play a few tournaments. After examining some of the local walls (solid but stylish), I decided to play a cash game for a few hours on my first night here. The casino's rake is absurd, but the players are terrible. I take a seat in a 2/5 euro game because there is one free. I plan to perhaps drop down to 1/2 later, but my first hand at the table convinces me otherwise. Two guys get 100 big blinds each in preflop, then get the other 25bb all in on the flop. When it comes to show down, one flips over QJs for a pair and the caller turns over a 4, mucks his other card and then shoves his stacks of chips into the middle of the table so they topple over and storms off John D'Agostino style. So the game goes on, there is often a straddle to 10 and a dead minimum raise to 20. It's a juicy game for sure! I lose a big flip when I get 90bbs + dead money in preflop with TT (the nuts!) and the guy with AK rivers a king on me. I reload to 500 and grind it

Last week I traveled to the English capital to play two poker tournaments. I sold shares in myself to a selection of people from a forum I post on and I was looking forward to playing live and hoping for a chance to have a deep run. As the students were still away, I booked a room at University College London's Halls of Residence near Oxford Circus. It was odd to be back in a small room with bluetack stained walls and even odder that it was in the West End just up the road from where I used to work. The single bed was....well....adequate, but the Internet connection was perfect and the kitchen was awesome. ENGLISH POKER OPEN The Palm Beach Casino in Mayfair was the venue for the English Poker Open. It had been held in Nottingham last year and I was sad I missed it, so I vowed to play this year. The venue was a pretty nice casino but very cramped. Several players including myself were wedged into certain areas and it was a nightmare to move around. Added to this one of the screens w

"But most of the places that you go, the girl ain't gonna fuck you. You call the number on this card and tell them Tony sent you, you'll have a good time, if you know what I mean..." It's 10am on Tuesday July 6 2010 and I'm in the back of a cab driving through Las Vegas. I have $10,000 in my pocket. Clearly there has been some kind of misunderstanding. When I mentioned to the taxi driver that I was playing in the Main Event and then afterwards I planned to relax, he obviously took that to mean I'd like to hire a lady for night. Being the kindhearted fella that he is, he chose to advise me which escort agency to use so I didn't get 'dickrolled'. Yes he used the word dickrolled. I take Tony's card and that of the agency, pay for the cab and walk through the 40 degree early morning heat towards the back entrance of the Rio Casino. There is even a red carpet with cold air blowers to sooth my passage to the casino entrance. I bin the business ca

Scene: Sitting at a bar in the Gold Coast Casino, Las Vegas - 8am. The World Cup Quarter Final between Brazil and the Netherlands is on the tv in front of us. A guy sits either side of me gambling in the fruit machines which are built into the surface of the bar. Their attention is suddenly grabbed when Holland grab an equaliser to make the score 1-1 Guy on my left: Wow! That was a good score. Who are Brazil playing against. Guy on my right: New Zealand... Guy on my left: The names of those players don't sound very Australian Guy on my right: They have a lot of migration there. Guy on my left: *nods and exhales to express understanding* Both go back to their fruit machines.

"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

"I call" says my opponent, flecks of processed meat spraying out of his mouth and on to the felt. As I discard my failed bluff, he tables his top pair before taking another bite of burnt, fat drenched sausage and stacking his newly won chips. I remind myself of the old poker maxim that if a guy is in a pot and he's eating, he's usually got a good hand, as otherwise he wants to concentrate on his food. However, this is a difficult rule to follow as there are no less than four people at the table eating big, greasy fried breakfasts. I should probably mention that its 1am on a Thursday morning. I am at the Circus Casino at Star City in North Birmingham. For those not from the area, Star City is an architectually uninspiring 'entertainment' complex, located in one of the roughest areas of the city. It containins a cinema, a range of below average chain restaurants and a casino. In its defence, I should also mention that it does have a crazy golf course. I have no

“Go back home Englander” I am sitting in a 2/2 no limit hold’em game in a Berlin casino and am not getting a warm welcome from a few of my hosts. The guy on my left is the businessman type, he’s drinking one of those overly large German glasses of beer and generally being an idiot. Being a dick is clearly something that transcends international boundaries. So he’s insulting me in German, mocking me for being unable to speak the language and deliberately using oversized chips to bet -saying the number in German. A couple of players laugh along with him – I notice they have both had to rebuy in the hour I’ve been at the table. Clearly my businessman friend wants to be ‘the man’. He tries to taunt me by repeatedly asking me what the score was in the Bayern Munich v Manchester United match that took place earlier in the week. Eventually respond by telling him the game is delicately poised for the second leg, as United have the away goal and although the Bavarians are now favourites as Roon

It’s the evening of Chinese New Year and I’m taking my chances in a shorthanded 30/60 game at the Oaks Club. The only reason I’m in this game is the middle aged Chinese megafish to my right and the fact there is no 15/30 game running tonight. The rest of the table seems pretty solid, though not without leaks. To celebrate Chinese New Year the card room is running an all you can eat Chinese buffet and the line snakes around the lobby. It’s unclear to me how one goes about getting a ticket for the buffet, but they are hot property and are being traded around the poker floor like cigarettes in a prison. A man painted orange and with loads of orange balloons attached to him ambles around the room, not sure of what he is expected to do. I assume he is supposed to be a tiger, as this is the year of the tiger, but to me he looks like a man painted orange who is waiting for his shift to finish. A little later he accidently pops one of his balloons, causing the old man on the next table to me t

I start day two with a healthy stack of 91,700. I’m in third position at the table in chips and with a table of complete unknowns, save for German pro Florian Langmann who has a big stack. Elsewhere at the table we have big glasses wearing Rasmus Vogt (who actually turns out to be a very good player), Slobodan Bjelbork (who sounds like a character from Star Trek) and the other big stack Simon Boss (who looks like classical conductor Simon Rattle with a shock of unkempt grey hair and plays like this is his first ever poker tournament) Day two is a struggle for me. I never manage to increase my stack and it hovers between 60,000 and 90,000 for most of the day. If day one was one of the best days of poker of my life, then day two was one of the hardest. Seated on table 31 out of 50, I knew my table wouldn’t break for several hours as they split the tables in reverse order, so I dig in and try and get some reads as I know I will be playing with these people for a while. However, the table

The European Poker Tour recently visited the city of Berlin. As the city has become my de facto second home, I felt duty bound to enter. I took some money from my previous winnings, won about 1,000 euros in satellites and sold 30% of the rest of my action to get together the 5,300 euro entry fee for the tournament. It was by far the biggest tournament I’ve ever played, but I thought there would be value. A million euros for first would surely gather a large field. The clash with the end of the Los Angeles Poker Classic and the NBC Heads Up Championships in Las Vegas would also ensure that some of the top players in the world would not be playing. My friend Nick bought 5% of my action and I also stayed at his apartment. Nick had promised that if I busted on the first day I would be subjected to his copy of UB40’s greatest hits. It was quite an incentive to perform. Nick is a true poker player and on the way to the Hyatt in Potsdamer Platz we discussed the pot odds of buying a train tic