20/01/2011

The Ogmore Poker Tour, Leg 3 - The Crazy Eight's

Lee Davy

Why do women hate it when men do anything that doesn’t involve them? Why haven’t any of them got hobbies? My Nan used to nit and bake egg and bacon pie. Why don’t women do those things anymore? The only time they pretend they have a hobby is when you ask them for a jump.

Shopping, painting your nails, trying on shoes, watching television, reading fashion magazines and complaining do not constitute proper hobbies.

It doesn’t even matter what it is that you are doing they will still hate it. My wife used to hate it when I played football. I used to play every Saturday and Sunday and each game ended with a session in the pub with the lads. After I gave up playing she hated it when I watched them and went to the pub. When I gave up drinking and stopped going to the pub she hated the fact that I watched too much football on TV. I stopped watching TV and instead played Pro Evolution Soccer on the Playstation and she hated that. I stopped playing on the Playstation and started gambling on sports, I used to spend a lot of time on the laptop checking out the form and watching results and she hated that. I used to work long hours and then when I got home people would still ring me because of my position and she hated that. I quit my job and started to play poker and guess what - she hated that!

Now reverse the roles and look at life from her perspective and you would love it - more time for me to do my thing without the dragon breathing fire down my neck? Can I go out shopping love? No problemo! Can I go out with the girls love? No problemo! Can I go out every Wednesday night to play darts? No problemo! Can I go abroad with the girls for a week? No problemo!

Now I am not an idiot. I realise life is all about finding the right balance. I think through experience and a few bust ups my wife and I have just about got there, especially when it comes to my poker playing time. In that area of my life the dragon just puffs the occasional bit of smoke. All the flames have gone.

Some of my friend’s wives could take a chill pill or two though. I don’t think they realise that if you keep on complaining to him about the time he spends on his own then there could be trouble ahead. For starters he will start to lie about everything. Take poker for example. The Ogmore Poker Tour Leg 3 took place in a local Rugby Club. It was organised by Rodney and his brother Eddie Ace. It is our quarterly biggie. A £100+2 freezeout, the £2 going to Gary “The Sleeper” Acreman for supplying the plate pie, sausage rolls and egg sandwiches.

The winner of this tournament will take home over a grand. Now that is quite a tidy sum of money and you could do wonders with that especially at this time of the year. But how many of them tell their wives how much the first prize is? How many of them tell them how much it is to enter? That is the problem that they have created. The bloke’s lie so much they don’t even remember if they have won or lost themselves? When they win they tell them they lost and when they lose they tell them they won.

So ladies chill out and get a hobby of your own instead of giving your bloke a hard time. And if your hobby is bingo and you win £50 then I want at least £25! That being said I bet they lie about how much they win and lose at Bingo!

18 of us paid the £100 for a total prize pool of £1,800. There was also £36 for The Sleeper. £36 for a buffet he is having a laugh - I think I will do the next one.

Three Chinese guys turned up and it was hilarious because none of them could speak English, we didn’t know where any of them had come from and they just stared at the buffet in disbelief. I had one of them on my table and of course the lads kept wanting me to translate because I am half-caste Chinese myself - hilarious!

Andrew “Too Nice” Bayliss christens any group of Chinese people playing poker The Crazy Eights and these three were no exception. People just love it when Chinese people sit down at a poker table in my local games. People follow them like flies around shit.

The game started like a house on fire when Neil “Black 4” Farm was knocked out quicker than Brock Lesnar facing a leg drop from Hulk Hogan. This was so funny because he gets so excited about these things and he was out in the first hand when his Aces were cracked by The Sleeper’s Kings. All he could do now was drink, which is a disaster for him and good news for everyone else.

Slowly but surely the tournament tables started to shrink and the cash game tables started to grow. I joined them just before the break after getting knocked out with this hand.

The blinds were 400/800 when one of the Crazy Eights opened under the gun for 2,000. Danny Mac shoved all-in behind him for his remaining stack of about 10,000. This was the third consecutive time he had done this. I looked down at 77 and felt if I also shoved I would get heads up against Danny and would be in good shape against his range. I shoved for 15,000. Erhan “Kurty” Kurt called my all-in and so did The Crazy Eight. The Crazy Eight turned over JJ, Danny Mac turned over TT, Kurty turned over AQcc and I turned over my 77.

“You shoved with that shit?” Shouted Black 4 from the rail.

“Watch a 7 come down!” I said as I rose from my chair.

“Nofuckingwayillwinthisfuckingpot!” screamed the Crazy Eight.

It was the first time I had heard him speak all day. The rest of the Crazy Eights got up from their seats to join him.

Bobby Eggs was dealing. Bobby is like an older version of Bruce Forsyth, if it is even possible to be older than Bruce Forsyth! He turns the flop, turn and river like Brucie does on Play Your Cards Right!

“So what do you want Ching? A seven?” he said.

“Just get on with it Bob!” Shouted Black 4 eager to get some more players into his cash game.

“Nofuckingsevennofuckingseven.” Screamed the Crazy Eights.

Flop: 7c

I remained silent.

“Whatthefuckfuckignhellwhatthefuck.” Screamed the Crazy Eight.

“And now for the turn.” Said Bob.

“Bob just turn the fucking card!” Said Black 4.

“Turnthefuckingcardeggmanturnthefuckingcard.” Screamed the Crazy Eights.

Flop: Tc

“Yes!” Shouted Danny Mac. “In your face Chinaman!” he said.

“It is coming to me! I have won this pot!” Screamed Kurty who had now turned the nut flush draw.

“Youcallmefuckingchinamanyoufuckingplick.” The Crazy Eight screamed towards Danny’s direction.

“I was talking to him!” Danny shouted back to the Crazy Eight with his finger pointing in my face.

The place was starting to resemble the United Nations. There were Turks, Chinamen, Welsh men and Bruce Forsyth type people everywhere!

I was down and out. The Crazy Eight was going nuts. Danny was jumping up and down and Kurty was sure he was going to win.

Flop: Jh

“Afuckingjackafuckingjackfuckyouplickfuckyouplickwhothechinamannowplick.” The Crazy Eight screamed.

“I preferred him when he said fuck all.” Said Danny.

Kurty didn’t hit is nut flush or his straight draw, all of our chips went over to the Crazy Eight and we all felt like a bunch of plicks. The Crazy Eight sat behind the Great Wall of China and never said another word all night.

That particular Crazy Eight managed to hold on to his chip lead and take down the tournament - OUR tournament! Andrew “Too Nice” Bayliss finished in second place and the other Crazy Eight finished third. Our big tournament and all of the money went to two complete strangers and the richest man in our group!

It was a good night though. All poker nights are. We all headed home to our wives and girlfriends with our own individual stories to tell. Except those stories won’t be individual, in fact they will all be the same. The lads will go home and tell their wives and girlfriends that they had a good laugh - not bad for a £30 freezeout. They only had to pay 50p for The Sleepers buffet and they were very unlucky. 4th place - just outside the money! Didn’t have chance to play in the cash game because the tournament lasted so long.

Me?

I am fucked. No secrets in my household. She reads all about it in BLUFF Europe magazine while she nits Bobby Eggs another jumper.

This article first appeared in BLUFF Europe magazine.

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