I would have loved to get this trip report up sooner but my real life job (as opposed to this fantasy dream job) got in the way more than I would have liked it to. For anyone who doesn’t know what I do when I disappear with nothing more than a laptop in my hand (or to prospective employers who may be Googling me in the future), I’m charged with the responsibility of keeping the poker community up to date with the latest happenings at the largest poker tournaments in the country. This Bank Holiday weekend, I was in the Burlington Hotel in Dublin for the most prestigious Irish tournament – The Irish Open.
When I got to my room on the Friday, I soon realised that its layout was butchered in half so that it could make the room beside it into a wonderful executive suite. As it transpired over the weekend, that suite housed the lovely Kara Scott, although she spent most of the weekend getting the lift up and down to the 4th floor, perhaps where one Brian Townsend was camped out? There were two other problems with my room, one was that the toilet was placed right in front of the hotel room door which ordinarily wouldn’t be an issue but I have this awful habit of leaving the toilet doors open while I’m in locked hotel rooms. Strange, I know, but on two of the mornings accommodation staff timed their entry perfectly to the moment where I was about to announce bombs away! The other problem was that the wheels on my bed were a bit too free moving and whenever I’d sit on the bed it’d fly about 6ft across the room. It definitely led to some disturbing alcohol induced nightmares of rolling down a hill and off a pier to my death. Explains how I managed to wake up for the start of play every morning anyway! With all my complaints though, my room wasn’t even one tenth as bad as the room I was lumped with in the enchanted and long forgotten halls of the Gleneagle back in October, as Sam will testify.
This year saw me being part of the biggest blogging team yet. I’m glad to report that most of them could keep up with the drinks. Sam was renowned for saying he was going to the toilet only to duck off to bed or do the loots at the cash tables, Darragh kind of filled in this role this time around and ironically was the only person to be late on one of the days, despite not drinking! Both Ed and Brian couldn’t get enough pints into them (much respect) and those moments the barmen started to leave the bar in single file every night were some of the lowest of the entire event. Was great to put some more faces to names although I think at this point about 90% of the faces stored in my brain belong to random poker players and some of the stuff that happened was comical beyond belief. I had a great laugh at the expense of some poor guy who slipped off the counter and collapsed into a mess on the ground. He proved he wasn’t a quitter by eventually getting up and digging into all the idle drinks that were on a table nearby!
Having distinctively said that I was shit at poker only last week, it was only natural for me to gravitate towards the cash tables at every available opportunity. On the first night I only ventured over so I could order some food. I ended up doubling up on my second hand when someone shoved blind for 200 and I snapped with the King-Ten in the blinds and held against Q2. I left after I finished my platter of incinerated onion rings and what looked to be sausages. On the second night, I threw away €80 within the first few minutes and kind of tilted myself. I called a raise with the JcTs in the SB and 4 of us see a flop of 8c5c9s. I check and the original raiser bets €30, he’s called in two spots and with action back to me, I decide that I didn’t call a raise preflop to fold to that board and ship for €120. I’m snapped in one spot and then the button agonises for a while before saying he’s priced in to call. I’m up against 9cTc and 4c7c and bing the 7 on the river for the wonderful treble up. Felt sorry for the guy who thought he was priced in only to be drawing pretty dead with what he thought was a big draw! I won a little on the 3rd night but left because of the ever-present fear of having both my chips and myself swallowed up by the giant American beside me.
Having finished in the green on all three nights, I’m now once again convinced that I’m absolutely brilliant at this game and would ask everyone to ignore that nonsense I rattled off a while back. It’s a shame though, I was almost out, only to be sucked back in to what I know to be a vicious circle once again in the dying moments!
As I posted on my Facebook, I’m already looking forward to bruising my hips in search of horrible coolers at future events and the late night craic in the bar every night!
