Several days ago, just as I was heading out to a comp, I encountered a rather unnerving moment. I lost my breath, broke into a cold sweat, and ran around my bedroom in a blind panic. The reason? Nope, it wasn’t due to my porn collection being unearthed, it was in fact the rather disconcerting case of a missing chip.About 18 months ago, my brother returned from Vegas with a souvenir - two one-dollar Binions Horseshoe Casino chips, one of which was handed over to me as a holiday gift. As it came into my possession, I decided to name the chip Charlie, merely as a result of alliteration, but it was a name that I would grow to love as time progressed.
At the time, I had no idea of the powers Charlie held, but, on my very next visit to the local casino, I soon realised that she was indeed a lucky chip.
Many players claim to possess lucky charms from golden camels to mouldy oranges, but Charlie truly was blessed. Initially, my only use for her was as a card-protector, as too often I’d witnessed a kafuffle due to the dealer swiping in live cards. ‘Not me!’ I thought to myself – hence my new protector.
However, after playing for all of five minutes, Charlie (not my poker skills of course) brought me a timely double-up. ‘Wow!’ I said with my eyes widening, ‘maybe this lass is more than just a card protector.’
By the end of the weekend (as this was a 2 day affair), I was sitting on the final table with a pile of chips in front of me and a Cheshire cat grin etched on my face. After the usual quarrels regarding deals, I eventually came away with just over £4,000. This was my biggest scoop to date and I owed it all to my new found friend. In hindsight, I can only imagine what would have happened if I’d opted to continue rather than agreeing to a deal.
Ever since then, Charlie has always accompanied me to the felt, whether it’s the £5 rebuy at Walsall or the £1,500 Main Event at Luton, she continues to sit reassuringly on my cards, hand after hand after hand.Recently however, I’ve begun to question her powers, frequently, and God forgive me, suggesting that perhaps she isn’t the lucky charm that I thought she was. Bullets busted, flopped sets outflushed, gigantic draws missing on every occasion, it’s as if the magic has vanished. I’ve tried rubbing her, but to no avail. I even whispered sweet nothings into her ear, in the sheer hope that she would embrace my show of affection, but, like many a woman, she merely gave me the cold shoulder.
Like all female companions, Charlie has a tendency to tease. At the Walsall £300er, I had the chip lead with 3 tables remaining, only to find 80% of my stack evaporate in one hand when I ran Kings into another big-stacker’s Pocket Rockets. Charlie even had the balls to allow a King to hit the flop, only to follow up the torment with an Ace on the turn.
It’s as if I’d mistreated her somehow. Where, when, why, how, I just didn’t know. A Sunday or two ago, I was strolling through the park, and I even contemplated ending our relationship there and then by tossing her headfirst into the canal. Fortunately, I came to my senses and swiftly repocketed her before I did something rash.
Last night I had a few quiet moments with Charlie, exchanging a few choice words. I was angry at first, but, after a short period of staring into her beautiful eyes (the two in ‘Binions’), I realised what a fool I’d been.
I’d clearly been taking her for granted. Never taking the time to thank her for my good fortune, constantly failing to recognise her importance at the table. At one point, I even considered that perhaps it was because of me that I’d been winning a few comps, but I soon vanquished that idiotic theory.
Well, things are going to change around here. I’m a new man, a modern man in fact. From now on, Charlie will receive my full respect. No longer will I toss her to one side as soon as I enter the house, no more chucking her round like a rag doll, I’ll even make sure she is dusted as regularly as she deserves. She needs to be handled with kiddie gloves, and God dammit, that’s just what she’ll get.
I acknowledge that she won’t forgive me overnight, but I’m in for the long haul. I don’t expect her to give me the WSOP Main Event this year, or even a WPT Event, I just hope that we can build on what we have and leave those successes for another year. After all, if I win it at this early stage in my career, then perhaps she’d feel surplus to requirements, scared that her millionaire owner would just cast her aside before moving onto other pastures.So, back to my opening paragraph. Yes, I did lose my breath, yes, I did break into a cold sweat, and yes, I did run around the room in a blind panic (I hesitate to confess that this series of events is actually true) – but I’m not ashamed.
I’m not saddened to say that I’ve become so used to having her around that when she does go missing, I become more than slightly concerned. Will I be able to play without her? Can I focus on my game? Will her lack of presence affect my confidence?
Thankfully, these questions never required answers as, on this occasion, Charlie returned to me within 10 minutes - I found her hiding in a plastic bag. Why she was there, I'll never know, but I refuse to consider suicide via suffocation as a feasible option.
Whatever happens between us, Charlie will always be my side, willing the cards in my favour and using her womanly powers to make sure that I come out the other end a winner, however long it takes.
Oh, did I win my tournament that night? Well, no, I crashed out early doors. Guess Charlie really is a loooooooooooooong term lucky charm. I’m a patient man though, you have to be with some of these lasses…