Casino MK is always an experience.
On paper it should be fun. It's a big casino attached to a shopping centre, should have plenty of passing traffic and if Aspers Stratford is anything to go by - they can sell you the illusion that you're anywhere but Milton Keynes for a couple of hours.
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I was actually only passing through for some shopping. Of which I did none but buy an overpriced steak and mushroom sandwich on some bread with a name I can't pronounce. Might have been called Foccacia, might as well have been called Gianluigi Buffon. I'm too indecisive, which makes my autopilot into the world's most bland poker room quite confusing.
Even more so that the only thing running was a £20 Turbo. 15,000 chips, self dealt because Casino MK apparently have 3 poker dealers and the rest of them have been moved to the pit remove people's money from them and tell them it's just bad luck.
So we have one dealer on the 25p cash game table sat on his tod because nobody is playing. One dealing a 1/1 cash game with 4 players and the other one doing the buyins. 25% rake, if you don't mind. Just demolish the poker room, put in some Da Vinci's Diamonds and be done with it. But I digress.
No sooner am I in my seat, I am set upon by who I will be calling 'Daddy'. Not in a fetish way, but because he didn't recognise me as a regular and decided to bring the questions to me as if he was a Chelsea Hooligan and I had just showed up in his pub like an undercover reporter. He reminded me of the character Pongo in the film Scum with Ray Winstone. Flanked by a couple of other regs who he seemed to have running about giving him cigarettes and coffee.
"Who was I?"
"How old am I?"
"Where am I from?"
"Do I play poker a lot?"
These weren't friendly getting to know your table mates questions, this was the Spanish Inquisition. And it caught me totally off guard. Well you know what they about that say don't you?
I kind of had him down as someone who tries to push around the kids who come in from the Uni accommodation around the corner. Doesn't like younger players, finds them too full of tricks, always raising his blinds and talking about this Gee Tee Oh. Must be a Korean footballer.
Told him I was 26, play in Luton a lot (or at least used to), mainly play PLO online. Thought that would satisfy his thirst for questioning me like a community support police officer who's caught a kid with half a bottle of Glen's Vodka and a small pouch of Amber Leaf in the park.
He just whips his phone out and starts showing me pictures of people.
"Play in Luton do ya? Know him do ya?" Endless carousel of Luton's finest, half I know and half I don't. The Daddy is growing more and more incensed by my apparently unbelievable backstory. It's 17 minutes on the quick train from Bedford to Luton. I've hardly told him I used to play in the Aviation Club in Paris.
Shows me a picture of Will Kassouf. Everyone knows Will Kassouf by now. Apparently my confirmation that "Yes, I have watched poker in the last 2 years and am aware of Will Kassouf" meant he had to try and call him. Couldn't get through though he said. (It didn't even ring).
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Anyway POKER.
Run it up to about 28k without much struggle. Flop a set of
, get it all in vs top pair and win.
Oh wait Daddy is back and he thinks I played my hand badly.
"Wouldn't have reraised that flop" - The guy had 7 bigs behind.
I was content to listen to his analysis because who knows he may just drop a nugget of wisdom. Nah he just wants to offer me out heads up. Flanked by his friend, the last comment I heard before I got moved was "You won't be no good against me...".
And people wonder why newer players are intimidated by live poker with people like this around. I mean I've played my share of comps and this doesn't really get under my skin, but this guy clearly plays these comps day in, day out with very limited success and just wants to have a pop at anyone new who comes around.
He left the tournament shortly after, I watched him put his jacket on and leave, no longer interested in sticking around for a heads up clash of the titans worthy of £14.95 on Box Office.
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Because this affair was a Turbo, I spend the final table just jamming on everyone with impunity because there was a grand total of £140 up top and it was getting late. If I was going to min cash for £30, I'd still be out of pocket on the taxi home. As luck would have it, we chopped it and we took first place money. That's 4 for 4 in live comps this year. All with buyins lower than £40. Remember my post 18 months ago where I said we'd be millionaires? Still working on it.
Which I then lost to Sunny Mistri playing Heads Up PLO while drunk. And had to fork out £30 for the taxi.
Ce'st La Vie.
I wonder if The Daddy is reading this? Probably, seeing as he seems keep mugshots of half of Bedfordshire's poker scene. Take a tip from that Pink Floyd song, and leave those kids alone.
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