We'll get to Gala tonight though, and there will be live updates on any interesting proceedings.
Despite the fact that Gala is renowned not just throughout this diary, but throughout the Nottingham poker scene as a place that falls short of every mark, I somehow managed to forget that you get absolutely no phone signal in there.
I'd been sat at the table about 30 seconds before I whipped my phone out to write my first update. No connectivity. So, instead of getting increasingly heated posts, you're getting one long moan. Yayyyyyyyyy.
First hand. My chips hadn't even arrived at the table. We're 6-handed. I check
from the big blind. Flop is
. I bet £3 into £6, player 2 raises to £22, Phen calls, I call.
on the turn. Phen leads for £56, I call, player 2 goes all-in for £135 which only just covers Phen who calls. I call obviously. Player 2 is splashing around with "a straight draw." Hero. Phen flips over the other
, accompanied by the
, which was all the better for him when the river came the
. My chips arrive. Ship half of them over there, please!
We reload, and an orbit or so later we pick up
otb in a limped straddled pot. We make it £15 and go heads up. Flop is the beautiful
. Villain checks, we bet £27 he calls. Turn was the
I think? Pretty much a brick anyway. Villain checks with a little under £100 left so we jam for just over pot, and he sighs, and he calls, and he holds with
. Just spooning them out tonight!
Nothing really happened for a while, except I found myself in two or three really good spots to bluff versus this old guy, but he just seemed to land the perfect check-calling hand every time. So with 0% value bet success and 0% bluff success I found myself in a £300 hole. Then the game just went crackers. I folded bet-folded
on
in a 5-way pot. Pretty easy fold, but it was just getting a little frustrating by this time! With about £130 in front of me, I decided I wasn't going to pull up anymore money, but at the same time the game was too juicy to leave. I made the devastatingly difficult decision to get out of this game before I started truly knocking it in. I get dealt in one last hand tho.
again. Alright. Raise £13 over the straddle, SEVEN CALLERS.
. Boringhell. The small blind donk-shoves for £48, I've got £115 behind and decide to pile. Old guy tanks for ages and calls, Jimmy tanks for ages and calls. This could get me out of it.
on the turn. I sigh quite audibly, but then so does everybody else. There is hope yet!
on the river. That's a straight! Jimmy rolls over the superior
though and scoops the lot. Marvelous! I leave penniless (sort of...) and a little cranky!
Going to pile on some calories before bed so my chest can repair itself throughout the night (I'm not referring to the cavity where once there dwelled a heart, I mean my pathetic pectoral muscles; they're all torn and shit.)
DEM MACROS.
New currently doing a lose for January. Morale: 70%
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