Champ Gets Pinged

Golfers dream of playing a round at St. Andrews. Footballers dream of Wembley. For Guinness drinkers, the ultimate stage is O'Connor's pub in Doolin, County Clare, deep in the West of Ireland.

I got to perform in the theatre of dreams in early January when I stopped off there with Mike Sexton and his lovely wife Karen for a half gallon or so after a sight seeing trip to the Cliffs of Moher.

As the black stuff flowed, Mike told us a story. Several years ago during the World Series of Poker in Binion's, he was sitting in a stud hi-lo game beside a guy who went by the name of Champ. The Americans were never shy when it came to the nicknames department. It's pretty handy if the guy next to you is a good conversationalist when playing this game or otherwise you'll go gaga before your time. Luckily, Champ fit the bill and the lads had an ongoing chat about a subject close to both their hearts: golf.

They were sitting close to the rail and the game had quite a big audience. Don't ask me why anybody in their right mind would watch stud hi-lo, I can only assume they were all sick. After a while, one of the railbirds asked them if they played golf. As they'd been talking about it for over an hour, this might seem a pretty dumb question but you have to bear in mind this was America.

After they had confirmed that this was indeed the case, the railbird launched into his sales pitch. He said his room mate in the Golden Nugget had recently acquired a brand new set of Ping irons which were considered the nuts at the time in the golfing fraternity. Unfortunately, this clever investment was quickly followed by a series of not so clever investments in the gambling business resulting in his buddy being financially embarrassed. In fact, he was busted with the aforementioned golf clubs his only vehicle for refinancing his gambling empire. Champ began to think that a brand new set of Pings would do wonders for his game and felt a bargain coming on. He made an initial enquiry as to what the out-of-luck gambler might consider a reasonable offer.

The railbird said that his buddy was emotionally attached to his Pings and despite the downturn in his fortunes, he would be unlikely to part with them for anything less than 350 dollars. Though Champ considered this a reasonable price, he stuck to the bargain plan and took two black chips from his stack, handed them to the railbird and told him there'd be a good tip in it for him if he could persuade his buddy to accept this offer. As the railbird left the casino clutching Champ's two black chips, Mike questioned Champ's judgement in giving money to a complete stranger and tried to prepare him for a disappointment as he was of the opinion that Champ would never see the stranger or the black chips again. In this life at least.

Champ was a little upset at the thought that people could be so dishonest in dealings of this nature with a fellow golfer. His faith was amazingly rewarded about twenty minutes later when the railbird reappeared, handed Champ back the two chips and explained that despite his best efforts his buddy couldn't be parted from his lovely clubs under any circumstances unless the circumstances involved 250 dollars. Champ was thrilled and now handed the guy two black chips and two green chips while giving Mike an "I told you so" look. The railbird said he'd be back in no time at all with the clubs. That was the last that was ever seen of him. The next time somebody extracts the exact maximum from you in a pot, you can console yourself with the thought that you're not the first, and probably won't be the last.

The man who knew everything
Sometimes, you should just keep your mouth shut. Recently, I was playing online and a big pot developed between an American and a guy from Geneva. The American got a bit unlucky on the river and just couldn't help calling his opponent "a stupid German moron". No comment.