Vegas & The Aftermath - Diary

[boldie]

At The Broadway last night, there was a Free Buffet for the players. Not the best Buffet ever served, but about normal for The Broadway, where the Restaurant serves the finest of fine cuisine (not a word you hear in Casinos very often) but their buffets always & only ever consist of microwaved chips, dodgy looking chicken & tough burgers. Fair to say, most would agree, that Buffets are The Broadway's achilles heel, but it's free, so we can't complain.

yeah I sighed at that too

[TightEnd]

the (old) boy did good in last night's Luton 1st Anniversary comp

Friday 22/02/2008
                     
£100 Holdem
Entries .....     101 
TOTAL:  £10,100
             
1 Max Wilfred -- £3,540
2 Tony Kendall -- £2,020   
3 John Potts -- £1,520
4 Fabian Versel -- £1,010
5 Adrian Lambe -- £710
6 Chris Stavri -- £400           
7 Graham Wheldon -- £350
8 Dominic Ricepierse -- £300
9 Victor Crespin -- £250

[celtic]

Chris stavri....... worst player with the best cash rate at luton.............. IMO of course.

[77dave]

Chris Stavri....... worst player with the best cash rate at luton.............. IMO of course.

Vinny please  how can you limit it to just Luton.

I think he is a shocker  but he does have self confidence

[celtic]

lol jim

ambrose lost it with him last night, called a pre flop 14k raise oop blinds 1k 2k with 8 10o/s flop 679!!!!!!!!

was quite funny tho to be fair.

[celtic]

oh and prior to that mel fowler ( who he lives with) threaened to smash his face in after chris outdrew him and celebrated in mels face.

you missing us Jim?

[tikay]

OK, after THE most hectic, hedonistic but flu-ravaged, week I can recall, it's time to settle down.

I do the Show tonight, & apart from a meet on Thursday or Friday in London, that's it, I'm empty all this coming week, (unheard of, & worrying) though I have a bunch of writing commissions to sort out.

Got so much stuff to record from the past week though. It's been doubly difficult for me, because my Broadband has packed up at home, & so PC access has been awkward. After promising, & writing, the first of a three-part tale about my dear friend Slow-Mo, I "lost" it when my Broadband went AWOL, but I managed to rescue it this morning, & I'll Post that first. Please bear with me, it's not much of a tale, but Simon (SlowMo) influenced my life - unwittingly - in three different ways, & so I want to record it, by way of thanking him properly.

[tikay]

 
Right, SlowMo, aka Simon Hawksworth. In fact, he changed my life THREE times, not two, as I suggested.

SlowMo lives in a big spread right across the road from Wollaton Golf Course, is married to Hollly, & has two very fine sons, both at Nottingham High, & his life revolves around ensuring his Son's get the best upbringing.

He has his own business, & I'm not entirely sure how it works, but essentially, he trades commodities - gold, silver, aluminium, etc, & I think he trades in Futures in the underlying stock. Very complicated stuff, but money is made in derivatives & commodities when markets are volatile. So I guess he gets by....

Anyhow, his first life-changing affect on me was in Golf. Golf? Life-Changing? Well yes, in a way. When I took up Golf, not that long ago, I was made Captain of my Club - "Royal" Ormonde - within three years, something of a record I would imagine, & being a Golf-Club Captain is some big deal - in the golf world, anyway, it's every golfers pinnacle of achievement. And I luck-boxed my way to being Captain super-quick, notwithstanding that I'm truly the worst golfer ever to hold a club. I ended up playing over 200 courses in three years, playing golf 4 times a week minimum, giving speeches at Golf-Clubs (as Captain & Vice Captain) several times a week.

How did he & I meet at Golf? - I'll never, ever, forget the day, & the moment.

I was working - very hard - at the time, & my Chairman thought I was killing myself, & not working optimally, by working 7 days a week, 16 hours a day. I was  successful - very - but burning out, & he knew it. So he bought me a set of Golf Lessons, the idea being I'd find an outside interest, & chill a bit. Little did he realise the chain of events he was to set in motion......

So, I took the lessons - did no good at all - & he (John Kirkland, OBE, my Chairman) treated me to a round of Golf, just me & him, & we played up on the Derbyshire Dales somewhere. Loved it, & so I set about finding a Golf Club to join - &, more importantly, one that would have me. John had promised to pay my joining fee, & Annual Membership for the rest of my life. Some bloke was John Kirkland.

I tired 6 or 7 different courses, & one of them was Quarndon, in Derby - very posh. I was not versed in the niceties of golf-club etiquette in those days, & arrived at the Car-Park in full golf-gear, just needing to change into my golf shoes. Which I did. In the Car-Park. Wrong! Suddenly, some old sergent-major type buffoon ROARED at me - right across the Car-Park - "WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?".

Eh? WTF?

"I'm putting my golf-shoes on" I replied innocently.

"Not in MY Car-Park you don't. And it's "Sir" when you address me, you hear me laddo?"

Well, as you can imagine, like that I did not, & so that was that Club off the list. Nobody, not no-one, nowhere, no-how, speaks to me like that. I may be from the wrong side of the street, but some things I just won't buy.

So I continued my golf-club "Tour", & eventually, a pal invited me to take a look at Ormonde Fields Golf Club, in Codnor, Derbyshire, & so I polled up there one day with my pal. We changed - in the dressing room, I learn quick  - & we play 18 holes, & I loved the course, adored it. Lots of nature & willdlife, too. And the Members were all friendly, "good luck Mate, enjoy it, if you want any help, just say" da de da. So far, so good, & I still had the burning inner rage in me from that donkey at Quarndon.

So, we finish the round, & my pal - Bill Jepson, another great character - invites me into the Club-House for a drink. Remember the experience I had at Quarndon, & that, already, I'd realised that Golf Clubs were stuffy, posh, places.

So I was a bit taken aback, when we entered the Club House. Working-class guys, like me, lots of them, tea in mugs, comfy chairs & tables, & nobody had to wear Jackets & Ties - almost unheard of in a Golf Clubhouse. This looked good.

But the clincher was this bloke. The TV was on - Arsenal v Man Utd I think - & there was a bloke shouting at the telly. And I don't just mean shouting, I mean ROARING at the TV. And he was, well, I have to say, standing on his chair at the time. His face was bright red, steam was hissing from his ears, & his arms were waving around like windmills.

"IT'S A CORNER YOU IDIOTIC REF, A BLOODY CORNER, ARE YOU BLIND, ARE YOU STUPID" he spluttered, saliva spraying everyehere.

Well, this is a bit more homely, eh? And the TV shouter was none other than Slow-Mo. (The shouting at the Telly thing, I'll explain that in Part Two, but it's all part of the jigsaw).

I joined the club there & then, got accepted immediately, & spent a few very, very, happy years there.

We played all over the UK, we went on golf breaks to Skeggy twice a year, & to Scotland, played all the Championship Courses, the lot, mostly with Simon. And the friendship built & built & eventually led to parts 2 & 3 of how he changed my life, more of which to follow in seperate Posts, including how he came to be called Slow-Mo.

So, Simon & I play all over. Simon is a magical golfer - plays off 2 or 3 I think. He started as a Club Pro, down in Southampton, thats the route budding professionals take, sit their exams, give lessons to the Members, sell clubs, etc. But I think girls got in the way, & Simon abandoned his dream of being a golf pro & went into business.

Simon is a perfectionist in all things. When he plays golf, & I must have played a hundred rounds with him - thats 1,800 holes - he's never happy, & I don't think I've ever heard him say he was pleased with a shot he made. He could hit a three-wood so sweet you could but stand in awe, & generally pitched to the green from any distance up to 150 yards to within 18 inches. Still never happy. "Should have been nearer". And yet, there was me, hacking about in the rough, it could take me 10 shots - at a Par three - just to get IN to the bunker, & another 10 to get out. But Simon was patience personified with me, always trying to help me, his patience was endless. It must be said, he did advise me to take up wood-cutting or something agricultural many times though. Apparently my swing was agricultural. On a good day.

But he was OH so slow, especially when putting out. Pace up & down, to & from both ends of the green, wind-speed, direction, grass length, grass nap, all had to be assesssed. It could take him 10 minutes to line up a putt, & the fourballs behind would be backing up in huge groups. Nobody wanted to follow Simon round the course, you'd go out clean-shaven & come back with a bloody beard.

We played one day in a big Club Comp, we were not in the same fourball, his Group were following mine.

We had teed off at the "blind" seventh, we were on our third shot now probably, & we were already a good way ahead of Simon's Group, (inervitably, Simon is SOOOO slow) following behind, but my ball was lost, & we were all looking for it, wandering around in the long grass. As Simon's group was so far behind, they did not send a "spotter" up (a "spotter" was etiquette on a blind hole, to ensure the Group in front had cleared).

Simon's Partner that day was a scratch golfer, he hit the ball 350 yards every time. And his tee shot, all 325 yards of it on this occasion, hit me smack on the top of my head. That's on the full, too - 325 yards, on the full, at 100+mph. And golf balls are bloody hard.

The sheer force knocked me over, flat out, & there was much alarm, was I dead? I was barely conscious, blood was eveywhere, & the world was spinning. I lay there for minutes, everyone was tending me, "shall we call an ambulance?" sorta thing. Lady Vice (Lady Vice-Captain) trundled up, she was 38 stone, & offered the kiss of life, which was enough for me to assume a sitting position, being kissed by Lady Vice was enough to make the dead wake up, if she sucked instead of blew you'd disappear.

So there I am, sat there on the grass, my shirt crimson with the blood, I don't know what day it is, but I know I'm lucky to be alive, & there are concerned peeps all round me. I've got a lump on my head bigger than a tennis-ball, it's funny but it's not funny, I could be dying, really.

Suddenly, Simon & the Group behind arrive, faces white as sheets, all worried, "sorry Tony" one says, "really sorry mate, you OK?" says another. Then Simon speaks. My bestest golf mate Simon.

"Don't suppose you noticed where the ball went after it hit you, did you?"

Next, spread betting.......

[redsimon]

I thought he was named slow mo from how long he took to squeeze his cards at Super Stud Great story Tony...

[Rookie (Rodney)]

Brilliant!

[celtic]

Brilliant!

understatement!!!!!!!!

[tikay]

...but before I do Volume 2 of Slow-Mo's War & Peace opus, the last week.

dtd last Sunday night, busted out of the £100 early, & played Cash, notably with the cash-game Legend Kim Costa, surely there are few better cash-game companions than Kim. He did me a huge personal favour during the game, for which I thank him.

In bed by 6, up by Noon on Monday, drove down to Luton Days Inn Hotel, a sort of halfway-house for me en route to Feltham, where I had a meeting early On Tuesday, so I thought I'd get a head-start on the drive. Worked all afternoon, did not even go to Luton G in the evening, I was too tired, & I had to be up bright & early on Tuesday for the Feltham Meet. Which then got postponed until Friday......

Went to Feltham Tuesday, did the Show in the Evening, done just after midnight, & was due back in the Studio by 10am on the Wednesday. But I cocked-up my hotel arrangements, & had to drive back up to Luton overnight, & back down for 10am the next morning, like a daft bugger. And of course, on Wednesday morning, the traffic was horrific, & I was late, the first time I've ever been late for a Sky gig. I was not a happy chappie.

We were in the Studio all day, from 11am to 5pm, doing a rehearsal for a brand new Show - we hope, if it get's approved - with Norman Pace, who was most unwell, but he soldiered on. (He's now gone down with bad bronchitis, & let's hope he soon recovers), & I drove home afterwards, but could not resist playing the Luton Tourney (badly) on the way home, getting home eventually at 4am Thursday.

Due to play The Broadway £500 Thursday night, I booked into The Birmingham Marriott Thursday afternoon, but became a little unwell, & although I played the £500, my heart was not in it. In bed by 0230am, & due to leave Birmingham at 8am Friday, for an 11am meet in Feltham, (I booked it early deliberately, so I could get back to The Broadway for Day Two of the £500 - there's optimism for you...) but I could not get out of bed, I just felt terrible, & it was 10am before I left Birmingham via the M40, & I was late again for my Sky meet, twice in 2 days, sheesh.....

The meeting went terrific, we discussed all sorts, including a new role for me at Sky, & I was fired up with enthusiasm & adrenelin after it ended at 4pm. But I can't drive home from Feltham to Derbyshire mid Friday afternoon - M25, M40, A43 & M1 on a Friday afternoon? - no chance! So I decided to stay in the Feltham Office & get some writing done. Then I saw that there was a nice £100-er at Luton at 8.30pm. Well, that would be plain stupid, especially as I planned to go to Blackpool on Saturday, which would entail leaving home at Noon on Saturday. So, Luton was deffo a no-no.

Anyway, I ended up chopping the Luton Comp, left Luton at 0600, got home at 0800, in bed by 0830, up at Noon, & straight on the road to Blackpool, nearly 3 hours North for me.

Was unwell again, & eventually busted at 1am, & was home in Derbyshire & in bed by 4am this morning.

Left home 1pm today, & I'm in Feltham now, ready for tonight's Show, & I'm gonna find a Hotel & stay over, I'm a bit tired & off-colour, & can't face the drive home tonight. I'll work in the office all day tomorrow (Feltham) & then go home - via Luton, I fancy.....

I also need to pop down to Brighton on business one day this week, so I might do that Tuesday. And it's the dtd 3-2-1 next weekend, that'll be huge fun.

I run so damn good it's unbelievable.

I'd really like to play a bit of golf again, but time is the problem, but I'd love to have a round with Slow-Mo, bookiebasher, Karabiner, with Tom (who does not play Golf I don't think) there as Nature observer. That'd be so lovely. I've added it to my wish-list.

[tikay]

the (old) boy did good in last night's Luton 1st Anniversary comp

Friday 22/02/2008
                     
£100 Holdem
Entries .....     101 
TOTAL:  £10,100
             
1 Max Wilfred -- £3,540
2 Tony Kendall -- £2,020   
3 John Potts -- £1,520
4 Fabian Versel -- £1,010
5 Adrian Lambe -- £710
6 Chris Stavri -- £400           
7 Graham Wheldon -- £350
8 Dominic Ricepierse -- £300
9 Victor Crespin -- £250

In fact, it was a chop, almost inevitable (& no complaints) with Blinds at 10k 20k, & average stack 140k, at 0430. Luton-G had agreed to up the chips from 5k to 7.5k after player pressure (from players to me - why me? - & me to Management), & it was a lovely little Comp.

But Max had about half the Chips, & the blinds were silly, the two shorties both had 60k, so a deal was brokered.

Max was extremely generous, & took £2,300, me & 2 others £1,500, & the two Shorties £1,000 each.

Max cashed his money, gave me the surplus, & left me to divvi everything up with the others, but there was £400 left over when we'd sorted it all out, so that got added to the 3 x £1,500 & 2 x £1,000, £80 each.

[tikay]

lol jim

ambrose lost it with him last night, called a pre flop 14k raise oop blinds 1k 2k with 8 10o/s flop 679!!!!!!!!

was quite funny tho to be fair.

What actually happened was this, Ambro was sat next to Chris, on his RIGHT, so it was Ambro SB to Chris BB.

Chris gets a double-up with AA v QQ or whatever, it was a whopping pot, & promptly announces that he's pretty much gonna sit-out until the Final (a bit early, imo, this was 3 tables out), & only play Aces & Kings etc. Fair enough, but not the wisest thing to tell the entire table, now was it?

So Ambro takes note, & starts feeding off Chris's Blinds, Raise, Raise, Raise, all fair enough, Chris just Passes every time.

Chris then starts to get the needle at this - self-inflicted, imo - & when Ambro does it yet again with K-8, Chris gets uppity, & says "I'm fed up with you keep nicking my Blinds" & Calls. (He shoulda pushed imo, but never mind).

So, Ambro has K-8, the flop came 6-7-9 - not bad for Ambro, eh? Even better for Chris though, who had Ten-Eight.....!

Ambro pushes, Chris shouts "call" & SLAMS his cards down on the Table. Ambro is busted, & Chris is chirping, "I told you not to keep nicking my Blinds". Then the "how could you call with that shite/how could you Raise with that tosh?" stuff starts. Chris offers to shake hands, Ambro puts out his hand, then changes his mind, "no eff off you ****" & it goes off a bit. Just gay stuff really, no big deal, & they'll be all kissy cuddly & cooey-wooey again soon.

If Chris announces he's gonna "sit-out" to the Final, he has to expect others to dip their bread.

He was, by chance, apparently wearing one of Ambro's suits, too, or it may have been a Compo cast-off. It'd sleep 3, & be ideal for camping, it was like a mini-marquee.

[tikay]

I forgot to mention in Slow-Mo Part One that when I saw him stood on that chair, shouting & screaming at the telly, I asked someone "who's that headcase?". "Oh, he's the Immediate Past Captain" I was told.

I was a bit bothered that I would not be accepted as a Member by any Golf Club - they are very posh & stuffy, you know - but if this man was a Past-Captain at Royal Ormonde, they'd surely allow me in, was the thought-train.