I've just returned from Dublin, where I had a fantastic time with all of my friends from Bridgnorth who came over to play in a tournament that supported the Simon Community for the homeless of Dublin. While there, I met up with an 18-year-old poker player whom I had met a fortnight before in Maidstone. He got a £36 flight from Manchester, but was overwhelmed by the atmosphere and went on the piss all day long and all night. He ended up blind drunk and on a chair in the hotel, waiting for me to come down, as he was left with no accommodations and also had managed to miss his flight back home. He had no money whatsoever, so I stuck him in my van and took care of his passage back to the UK. Once we'd gotten on the ferry, I bought him the largest breakfast of them all, but he left the lot and spent the entire trip on the toilet being sick. When we put off of the ferry, he instructed me that he had to be at his auntie's in Manchester, and then he threw up in my Balaclava hat. I dropped him off in Manchester, and he didn't even say goodbye, as when I dropped him off, he was throwing up again outside the van!
Two weeks before, we had started the 888.com
UK Poker Open IV in Maidstone, and this was also the start of a fairy tale. Now, this might not seem to you to be the start of a fairy tale, but it was on that exact day that the
Daily Mirror started giving away fairy-tale books, one a day for 12 days. I have two grandchildren, and I want to give them fairy-tale books for Christmas. The first book out was Dick Whittington, and I had bought a
Daily Mirror to get my first one, and then went around to every crew member at the tournament and asked if any of them had a
Daily Mirror, and wouldn't you know that they were all too sophisticated for that. So, I ended up ringing the help line at the
Daily Mirror to send me another one because, you understand, I have two grandchildren and can't give one without the other.
There were 12 fairy-tale books and there were also 12 players who sat down in the fairy-tale story started at Maidstone studios on Sunday. They included very tough players like Dave Clayton and Mark Goodwin, but there was also a 20-year-old player named Andrew Feldman. Now, to my knowledge, nobody had ever heard of Feldman, but according to form, he had played thousands and thousands of hands online with Dave Clayton, and by sheer coincidence, they ended up at the same table together. And who do you think was heads up in the heat but the two of them? Feldman went on to win the heat and also his semifinal, where he beat a Dane named Thomas Kvejborg.
It was Kvejborg who gave me the toughest decision I ever had to make in the history of my tournament directing. On three occasions, he spoke out of turn at the semifinal table, and on the third occasion, it was during a crucial decision by Andy Black, so I had to go to the table and give him a 20-minute penalty. The 20 minutes seemed like an eternity to me, and also to Thomas. I know that he did not speak out intentionally, and I hated to do it, but I had to, as it was the only way I could get him to respond. While Thomas was away from the semifinal table, we lost Andy Black, who was knocked out while trying to steal Thomas' dead big blind, and another player went weak with the same move.
When Thomas came back to the table, he'd gone up practically $4,000 in the prize money, and then went on to make the final table. It's definitely the first penalty I've given, and I can't think of any player in any other British tournament who got a penalty on television. And it did hurt me more than it hurt young Thomas. I know what's right and I know what's wrong, and I think that in the interest of the game, it was the right decision, because a person cannot speak to influence someone else when the action is not on him. Miraculously, though he lost 37,000 in chips, Thomas came back to reach the final with an average stack, and Feldman did, as well.
On the morning of the final table, I struggled to get the last of my grandchildren's fairy-tale books, which on that day happened to be
The Three Little Pigs. I'd sent my three co-workers - Ozzie, John, and Spivver - to Somerfields to queue up, because it didn't open until 10 o'clock, and I was setting up the chips for the final table. So, three grown men were all queuing up for
The Three Little Pigs, and the staff thought there was a gag on.
The final table was one of the most exciting I've ever witnessed. Also in the final were Richard Ashby, Luke Patten, and the boy from nowhere, Gideon Barnett, who won his seat from a charity qualifier at the Stanmore River Club. When the final was heads up, Gideon had a 3-1 chip lead over Feldman, but the fairy tale was completed when Feldman chipped back at him to win the 888.com UK Open IV. The green room was absolutely buzzing, with Feldman's mother and grandfather hanging on to every hand. Mrs. Feldman told me it was one of the greatest moments that she and her father had ever witnessed. This kid has a fantastic future, and yet he still isn't old enough to play in the
World Series of Poker.
I believe that every day is a fairy tale in the poker world. It could be the butcher, the baker, or the candlestick maker, and one of these days, it could be you who has your house blown away. Once upon a time, there was a boy named Andrew Feldman who went to Maidstone in Kent, and he won a poker tournament and walked away with $250,000.
