Wednesday 1 February 2012

Back to the grind, GUKPT trip report and that.

Ok, so my first blog of 2012 comes at the end of an interesting January. I started off with a mission to try and grind 50k hands, which i didnt quite achieve (43k), but i've put this down to me completing the rehab from my injury, and being able to train and play for the mighty Reffley Royals again, which i am LOVING btw (semi-final of 2 cups [final tbp at Carrow road, where we lost last year to the soap/tax dodgers from UEA] and 2nd in the league). I trained my arse off pre-season, and felt great at the beginning of the season winning player of the month...






The gaffer thinks he is a funny c**to putting a picture of Hayley Cropper (from Corrie apparently) on the website just because i was too lazy to get my hair cut at the time. Anyway, back to poker... and quickly. (F**k you RB ;-) x


So i managed to put in a bit more volume, due to a conscious effort to do so, and whilst reading a recent magazine article with a feature on myself and 5 other PKR cash game pro's my reasons as to why i need to play more were only reinforced by looking at their hand volume compared to mine. I played a paltry 240k hands last year, which, whilst still producing a good profit, wasnt anywhere near the amount i should be putting in, and was kinda put to shame by the others who had all played a minimum of 350k. I obv have my reasons, and moving/doing up house, training/playing football and golf, as well as keeping my hand in on the climbing front, all meant that i was always gonna be well behind these well known PKR grinders. This year though, things are a' changin'.


So despite putting in more volume, i actually had a losing month on the cash tables (not by that much, but nevertheless, a losing month), mainly due to some misadventures at 2/4 and 5/10. Meh, pretty standard, and from what i gather a lot of PKR regs havent had the best start to the year, but hey ho, we keep on truckin', cos thats what we do. As it turns out though, my month was actually a winning month, due to two 2nd places in both the PKR prime time and the open (totaling in just over $3k), so along with cakeback (over $1k this month, which is always welcome), its not too bad, and i can still afford to buy Lenor, and not the cheap alternative.


GUKPT Manchester


Drove up on Thursday night feeling good about playing live again after destroying the cash table at my local poker club on Tuesday night (i busted the tournament in record time but thats obv irrelevant). I opted to stay at a guest house because i couldnt find anywhere else that would leave my options open re busting/staying in the tournament, so i duly arrived at the wonderfully uninspiring 'Ivy Lodge', where i was greeted by a young Mancunian called Paul, who, complete with stereotypical friendly Northern demeanor, insisted that i try some of his wife's home-made chicken soup at no charge... 


'Come sit down and tell me all about this poker game. It's mostly luck right?'...


I quickly changed the subject to football, and because I didnt want to be rude, even though i was tired from the drive and just wanted to go and starfish my no doubt lumpy bed and watch suffen crap on tv to fall asleep to, i entered the communal kitchen and was given a hearty bowl of soup and some crusty white bread. As it goes, the soup generated a welcome, warming and somewhat nostalgic feeling - it was around 5pm. It was getting dark, freezing outside, and i had resisted the temptation of services junk food for my entire trip. Which, tbf was quite an achievement, because even though i normally cant stand junk food, i believe there is actually some kind of law to eat it when on a road trip. Anyways, i actually really enjoyed the soup, so much so that i had another bowl full (although i had no choice in this matter, Pauls wife was hovering over me, ladle at the ready, keen for me to continue complimenting her culinary wizardry - Yes, i like the fucking soup!! stop asking me if its alright!!!).


So i make my escape after the second serving ('home made you know, not from a tin!'), resisting the urge to crash out for a bit, deciding instead to have a shower, get down to the casino, get registered for the next day and maybe play a bit of cash. So i open the bathroom door, stared for about 5 seconds, and lolled, very loud.




Maybe it was because i was tired, but i literally cried with laughter, especially when i attempted to give the shitter a test run and had to sit on the wonk with one foot in the shower cubicle because the sink was 'in the way'. Anyone else had to sit on the wonk to have a dump cos the sink is in the way?? I sat there thinking FML, but actually changed it to LML - these solitary moments of self induced hilarity are golden to me, and this is one i'll never forget.


Tournament day


I arrived at the casino in good time, and tried to look cool (but massively failing to) as i walked in pretty wet and covered in hail (poxy Manc weather). I ordered a coffee and sat down to watch a bit of the cricket before heading over to the tables to check where i was sitting. Cool, table 16, live stream camera almost literally right down my throat. As play got underway, my friends back home were texting me saying 'i can seeeeee yoooooouuuuuuuuuuuuuu!!!' I resisted the urge to wave and instead opted for the Peter Kay two finger leaning on the face salute. About half hour into level 1, where i'd won a few small pots without showdown, i started to feel comfortable and realised that there wasnt anyone to be particularly worried about, except perhaps for a guy 2 to my left, a guy called Lewis Hunter, who seemed to be making some nicely timed squeezes, and barreling without fear. I figured i'd just stay out of his way, speshly with him having position on me. 


No sooner had i thought about not getting involved in anything big with him, he started talking to me... 'Its James right? Hey James, my mate is watching at home and has bet me £50 that you wont let me try your hat on straight away'. I obv snap let him, and he duly obliged by giving his mate the big thumbs up into the camera, and handing me back my hat asking me what id like to drink. I told him i'd have a quadruple JD and coke a bit later and got a laugh from the rest of the table. The bastard only went on to take it down and win just shy of £50k - all my run good musta transfered onto him via my lucky hat, eff it.


Ok, so i got into a few interesting spots, one of which being when i got moved to another table, and it was against this middle aged dumpy lady who i thought was a bit of a fish initially, but realising fairly quickly that she wasnt there to fuck about and was actually pretty good. She opens to 950 utg +2 with the blinds at 200/400, ante 50 and it folds round to me OTB. I make it 2300 to go with AQo, the blinds fold, and she peels. Flop is 9,10,J all hearts and dumpy lady checks fairly quickly. I knew i had a red card but couldnt remember if it was a heart so i had a quick peep, and had to subsequently sigh inwardly after seeing the bad news. If either was a heart then i'da prob gone ahead and bet there - we both had around 35k behind, but i decided to check and see the turn, which was a complete brick, 2c or suffen. Pot is about 5200 and she leads for 3k. This sucked a bit, but i was kinda expecting it. I couldnt really reraise here because if she jams then i have to fold what could potentially be the best hand if the river comes to my rescue, either by completing a straight or bringing another heart for me to rep if she checks, so i elect to see a river card, which is the 7h. After about 10 seconds she checks, and i dont waste a lot of time in betting 6.8k into an 11k pot. She tanks for what seems like an eternity before saying that she 'has' to call. Im like 'Really?? you have to?? wtf?? Fffffolllddddd you fucking heffer!!! (sorry, bit harsh i know, but its what i was thinking at the time). Totally oblivious to my inner cries, she makes the crying/hero call with a set of 10's and takes a pretty decent chunk of my stack. Surprisingly though, i wasnt affected by this at all because i think i played it fine, and i dont think i'd play it any differently if i was in the same spot again given the circumstances, so i just ordered a cup of tea, and went back to folding garbage. 


Ibiza Angel massage girl didnt distract me at all


After scoffing beef bourguignon at the buffet and catching up with my old mate Simon Deadman (who, despite being only a young lad, is a kinda live circuit veteran already - haha, good to see you Si!), and trying to pick his brain a bit, I managed to find some good spots to squeeze/shove with on the way to the final level of the day, one of which went down well with the table chip leader, who raised in mid position and got a caller from the cut-off. I jam for 16 bb's. Chippie really wants to call but cant because of guy behind and mucks. Guy in the HJ folds and chippie tells me he had his favourite hand J10hh and woulda called if it wasnt for the tricky other biggish stack behind. We'd all been doing a bit of show and tell, so I felt obliged to show him my 910ss.


There was definitely a buzz around the place when Jake Cody arrived, speshly when after being there for about 15 mins, he knocked what musta been a pint all over himself and others at the table, haha, good going Jake, really cool. That may have unsettled him (yeah right), cos he busted shortly after that, just before my final hand, which came just after midnight where i shove UTG with AQdd and 18bbs, folding round to the bb who shows me QQ. /nh. no ace, hat, coat, im gone just before the end of day 1 in 68th/177.


All in all though, it was a really good experience, despite being ridiculously card dead (seriously, ridiculously!). In fact, the only negative was this one guy at the table who just didnt understand the term 'personal space' and he almost got the...




...treatment, but luckily i didnt have to resort to this, which is good because he was quite an unsavory looking fella. Anyway, I took a lot of positives from the weekend and cant wait for leg 2 in Walsall, where i'll hope to catch up with an old friend and run a bit betterer :-)


Now i just want to finish with some, what i think, are the best pics from a photo shoot that my friend Nicola has just had done. She's a very talented, creative, humble, funny and obv gorgeous young lady, and we have a pretty unique bond. I always used to tell her that she should get into modelling but for one reason or another she was reluctant. Anyway, she finally took the plunge, and i think she looks great...


























Oh, and check this out if you get 5 minutes... http://foodonmydog.tumblr.com/ In terms of quality blogs, this is right up there with lil'daves imo - Bordering on genius. 


And shout out to my new Scandie protege! :-)