The Lady and the Farmer
Following on the great success of the Paddy Power
Irish Open, it doesn't come as a great surprise that
RTÉ, the Irish national TV station, has decided to extend its poker coverage. That the chosen event is the PartyPoker-sponsored
Irish Poker Championship (partypokeripc.com) and is to be held in Galway in January seems appropriate. Galway has always held a special place in the hearts of Irish gamblers. The annual weeklong horse racing festival held there every summer is like a convention for gamblers, lunatics, party animals, serial drinkers, and insomniacs. Millions of euro change hands at the track daily, lots of it wagered on very average beasts that'd look more at home in a glue factory than on a racetrack. Nobody cares. As soon as the last race is over, the party begins in earnest. Drinking, dancing, and singing (some of it decidedly dodgy) carry on until long after the milk has been delivered. Huge poker games take place, involving larger-than-life characters who would have Runyon signing up for life. When you've experienced the race week once, signing up for life is exactly what you do.
Of all the stories from that poker game in Galway, one of my favourites involves the legendary Colette Doherty. At the time, Colette was the
Irish Open champion and had been the first woman to compete in the
World Series of Poker main event. When she visited Galway, they were queuing up to play with her. They must have been mad. They were playing seven-card stud, half-pot betting, which just happened to be Colette's road game. Her best customer was a farmer who was absolutely loving it and cheerfully losing a fortune. In one pot, Colette had a pair of queens showing and bet strongly from start to finish. After the farmer had called the bet she had made after the last card had been dealt, she shrugged her shoulders and said, "You must win; I only have what's showing."
"You win," said the farmer. "I only called to frighten you."
That's Galway.
Promote That Man!
Julian Gardner is a pretty cool customer. That might explain why he is England's leading money winner at the
WSOP and has cashed four times in the main event before the age of 30, including second place in 2002, when it just seemed that Robert Varkonyi was destined to win. I usually hang out with Julian and Scott Gray at major events, because both of them are much more liable to be going on about something funny that happened at their table than rabbiting on about some hand
that can't be changed. Julian's coolness was put to the test by the manner of his elimination from the main event this year. I was talking to him about 15 minutes after he'd been knocked out and he calmly told me what had happened. He was at the TV table with about $1 million in chips and was quite comfortable. He looked up at the clock, which indicated that there were 68 players remaining in the tournament. The next jump in prize money was one of $30,000, when the 64th player was eliminated. Bearing this in mind, Julian decided to make a play to gather a few more chips rather than passively ante himself off to guarantee another 30 grand. It went horribly wrong and he got knocked out. He then discovered that the clock was wrong and that he'd actually finished 64th. Had he had the right information, he wouldn't have bothered making the move he had made and still would have been in the tournament with another $30,000 coming to him, and far more importantly, a genuine chance of winning the event. Most guys would have been screaming blue murder, but not Julian. He just got on with planning where we were going to go for a beer.
While Julian was going through the paperwork, I went to the poker room to see for myself what was going on. The players were now on a break and the security guard didn't want to let me in. If security had its way at the
World Series, there wouldn't be any poker player in the poker room. This guy was OK, though, and said he'd escort me in to get a look at the clock. I hope he didn't get fired for being civil. Of course, Julian was right. Two clocks showed 68 players remaining; all the rest showed 61. The security guy asked me if I was happy now. So, I asked him if he knew why these two clocks showed a different number of players remaining. He was great. He immediately replied that these two clocks were for the cash game. For once, I was speechless. Sometimes, you've just got to stand back and admire the beauty of a play.
