Kapow !!!!!!!

Neil 'BadBeat' Channing finally realises its time for a new nickname.

If you’ve never sat in a unisex Thai massage parlour at midnight on a Saturday night in London with two lovely girls from Ireland and one of your best friends who has just won over $1.2 million, well, I can heartily recommend it.

More of that in a bit. Since the last entry I expected a fairly quiet month what with Cheltenham, Patrick’s Day and the Irish Poker Open all occurring within a couple of days of each other. Before all that I had to tournament direct a 150 runner event in Dublin where words like, ‘fun’ ‘amazingly professional’ and ‘carnage’ were all thrown into the mix; the end result was a great event and proof that I can still drink more tequila shots than any Dublin Student.

Next up was Cheltenham and it was a big improvement on last year, by that I mean viewing it. Last year I was trying to punt on it and view it from a student hostel with a weak broadband connection in New Zealand. This year I was in Boyle Sports telephone centre taking bets on the phone as well as laying out a few of my own. You don’t need to read this blog for long to realise I’m not very smart which translates into, I did my brains.

St .Patrick’s Day fell on a Monday which enabled me to take the smart option and go into work, therefore no celebrations this year, don’t worry, I made up for it a couple of days later.

Those couple of days later involved me attending the premiere poker event in Ireland; the Paddy Power sponsored Irish Open.
I Arrived at the citywest hotel in afternoon of Thursday for a meeting and then along with one optimistic investor decided to have a crack at qualifying for the main event. 60 plus runners ponied up for the last satellite and with 9 players remaining I was chip leader with the top 6 winning a seat, of course I finished 9th.
The pain was nulled pretty quickly with a few pints of the black stuff and some lively banter in the bar. I joined our online qualifiers and our recently signed sponsored player to advise them on how to play; thankfully they took no notice of me.

Events like this are a great way to catch up with dear friends and on the first evening messers Camel, BadBeat, Paidraig, Rory, Scott, Jesse, Ian McD and Duthie were all on good form. I left the bar to see if there was any action going on and saw me old flatmate Neil ‘Badbeat’ Channing in a high stakes game sitting next to one Teddy of Sheringham. Being imbibed with a few scoops I kept chanting ‘England’s number one, England’s England’s number one’. Every time Teddy turned round I would put my hands on Neil’s shoulders, give Teddy a little wink and point at Neil explaining he was England’s number one. He was of course mildly irritated at this but being a footballer I guessed he wasn’t that smart; he proved this by turning round every time I sang it. I sang it until my voice was hoarse.

Friday saw me take in a leisurely breakfast (a welcome all you can eat treat and after a weeks fasting, I did literally eat all I could eat).
I did look to enter a one table satellite for the main event but refused to pay 50 euros in juice, considering the sponsors were adding 200,000 plus as there was a player shortfall I thought sod em, I was unlikely to win it anyway.
One of our online players turned up and played a one hand satellite. Basically you get two cards and the best hand wins. Years ago Sean Hayes, a part time poker player bored me stupid by attempting to explain to me how he had been outdrawn in one of these things.
There was no moaning from our Gary though as his 6-2 o/s did the business and saw him play in the 1500 euro event. This left me free to do some schmoozing, networking and watch a little poker.

John Duthie was playing Andy Black heads up for more than most of us earn in a year and I accepted John’s invite to sit next to him. The play and banter was top drawer but I got scared that Mr Black might be picking up tells off me so I left them to it. I bumped into the Camel who repeated to me a very surreal experience he had just encountered in the men’s lavatory.
Keith explained he was having a jimmy riddle on his own when an elderly Irishmen sidled up to the urinal next to him rather than one of the other 100 or so free ones in the toilet area. He then started looking straight at him asking him if it was windy in here. Keith became very concerned and gave it his best ‘smile to the nutter’ look. The guy asked him if it was windy in here again, Keith bravely answered no upon which the bloke let out the longest nosiest gurgliest fart and remarked, ‘it is now.’


I watched the poker for a while along with more meetings and after a gut busting lunch decided to pass on the bucking bronco the sponsors had installed in the lobby. Later I spent a worthwhile hour watching the ladies tournament, being careful not to linger to long on the girlfriends or wives of poker players I knew. After dinner I went for a quiet pint with the Camel and discovered the beauty of being a resident in the only hostelry serving alcohol in Ireland on Good Friday. You couldn’t get a drink without producing a room key which left Keith and I safely enconsed in two large comfy chairs, lending out our room keys in return for a pint of the black stuff. Many pints later it was time for bed.

I went home to revitalise and returned Sunday to spend some quality time with our qualifiers, Gary, Martin, Mike and Mervin who where all in good spirits, perhaps because Mike had cashed for 5000 euro and was busy buying them at the bar. We later settled in to watch the super Sunday footy where Chelsea gave Arsenal a trouncing which was enjoyed by all and sundry including one Robbie Keane who had popped in for a few with his mates.

Another footballer crossed my path in the form of one Tony Cascarino and as I was chatting to Paidraig Parkinson I caught this bit of banter. A friend of ours Rory was walking past wearing an Ireland top, quick as a flash Paidraig shouted out ‘look Tony, Rory was a good footballer like you, he could have played for Ireland, except he wasn’t English’.

Later in the evening I railed my old mucker and flat mate BadBeat Channing whose chips had been up and down more than a pubescent schoolboy on being handed his first issue of men only. His chips took a turn for the better when his 5-5 beat his opponents 6-6 on the river in one huge pot and I instantly looked for a price from Paddy Power but they were no where to be seen. After the smoke had cleared he had made the final 6 as chip leader, had position on the only danger man and seemed destined for a decent place at least.

Later still we retired to the bar again where I was introduced to Lisa and Tessa, two lovely Irish fillies who were to make my laughter lines grow a little longer over the coming days. Drinks consumed we all retired at a decent time to ensure maximum vocal support for our boy.


Monday started again with an all you can eat along with Mr McDonald Senior, a great bloke and finalist in the 1500 euro tournament. With Channing in the final of the big one it was unlikely I would be putting my hand in my pocket for beers from here on in.
Instead of sitting around getting nervous I thought id play in the 300 euro event to convince myself I couldn’t play the game anymore, mission was accomplished a few levels into the tournament.

I did manage to survive though whilst our boy was knocking out player after player in the final. In fact he managed it in record time and we were in the bar by 6pm. I told Teddy he was England’s number one, I hope he listened and had got a bet on.
As the new champ was busy doing all sorts of media, I was left to walk around the room with the trophy, as I was wearing my boylepoker shirt im not sure the sponsors were overly impressed.

I was given money to buy people drinks (I task I excelled at) before we moved onto the Thai restaurant a 4 minute walk from the hotel for the celebratory meal. Again I was tasked with ordering drinks “Bring as much champagne as is humanly possible” was my order for the evening, it seemed to work.
I got the winners jersey signed by those that were there at the time and intend to do something special with it in the near future. (As in sell it on EBay). I could tell you what happened after this but this is the one and only time I will censor myself on this blog, but thank you Lisa and Tessa for a great night.

The following day was more meetings interspersed with a lunch that the memory off still makes me smile now. I joined some of the dealers who let me in on some of the gossip that was going on behind the scenes. For example one well known player had lured a dealer to his room and began initiating sex. When he was knocked back the girl was confronted with the line, “But you were flirting with me? And I bought you a drink” One of the girls had had a moment with another well known player, when I asked her for more lurid details her response was “We all surrender sooner or later” (of course this line was so good Channing plagiarised it in his most recent article).
The bill came, they all folded to me in the Big Blind and I was priced in. I tried to claim a misdeal but no one listened.

I half interviewed an applicant for a role in Boylepoker who was more fun than barrel full of leprechauns on St. Patrick’s Day. When I asked her for an original idea she said “Every time a player is knocked out of a tournament, the dealer should turn to the nearest camera, make a gun sign with there hand and shout ‘player down KAPOW!’. If I could have hired her on the spot I would have done. What probably prevented me was one of her colleagues who said, “wait, you haven’t seen her sober yet!”

Thursday evening saw me flying to London for a meeting and carrying a substantial chunk of cash to be delivered to Mr Channing. Had I been mugged it would have been jackpot time for the mugger but luckily the only mug was moi. Dinner in the Vic casino, money delivered and a welcome early night. After work on Friday it was Channing Party part 5 held in a swanky Italian restaurant in Holborn where a 100 or so of the great and good and not so good convened for a mutual love-in. It was awesome to see so many friends all turn up to celebrate our comrade’s victory. Yorkshire Kevin flew in and told me he had just intervened in a fight where a 10 year kid was getting a beating from an older bloke. He said he jumped in, looked the attacker in the eye and told him to stop and then said your not transferring your weight properly, it was that kind of night.

Saturday was a rest day then in the evening The Champ took Me Lisa and Tessa to dinner at his local gastropub. At around midnight and after more champagne and fine food we took a taxi to a well known Thai unisex massage parlour where we indulged the steam room, plunge pool and sauna before an hours revitalising massage (nope, sorry to disappoint you but it wasn’t the type of place that did a ‘happy ending’). The girls made it back to the airport for their early morning flight whilst I retired gracefully from all the fun and returned to Ireland and work the next day. As someone much smarter than me recently commented, im winning a losing battle.