Whilst Richard Trigg was deservedly taking all the plaudits for his first Grosvenor United Kingdom Poker Tour (GUKPT) victory at Blackpool a few weekends ago, my thoughts were on a small group of Valley boys who were making their annual pilgrimage to the Las Vegas of the North for the fourth consecutive year.
“Blackpool might not be pretty to look at it but everyone goes. It’s nostalgic and has a lot of history.” Said Trigg after his win.
For working class Northerners such as myself Blackpool is the dog’s bollocks. Floridians head to Disneyworld, Californians head to Venice Beach and we head to the wind, rain and kiss me quick hats of Blackpool.
Years later I would sit down to eat at the Michelin Star restaurant The Fat Duck. One of the courses is a plate of seafood that is designed to look just like a beach. It also smells like a beach, and they even make you wear an iPod so you can listen to the sound of the beach. All I could think about was Blackpool.
Once again the lads did the Valleys proud as they made two side event final tables and for the fourth consecutive year walked away as a group with a tidy profit. I have been missing from the previous two years because of my work on the World Poker Tour (WPT), and I have really missed the trip.
In my first year I finished second in the £100 side event for £2,330. It was my biggest poker tournament win at the time and at no point in the latter stages of the tournament did I ever think I wouldn’t win. It was one of those tournaments where you hit everything. When I was heads up I fell behind and got it in with pocket fives against pocket sixes. I flopped a five, but my opponent turned a six and I had to settle for second.
The following year I decided to play in the £1,000 Main Event. I had just left the Railway and started to pretend I was a professional poker player. Investing £1,000 in a poker tournament was, and still is, too much money for me. I sold something like 40% of my action and settled down to play.
For a mere writer like me every decision in a £1k event makes you shake. These days I watch with a tinge of green when people seemingly throw away £1k bullets in re-entry events like rice at a wedding. Not me. £1k is about a third of my monthly wage, and if I am being honest about it, way above my pay grade. I shouldn’t even be playing in them.
When I reached the money bubble I had a chat with the guys who had a piece of me. I was short stacked and wanted to know if they just wanted me to squeeze into the money or go for it. The consensus was I wouldn’t be in this position often and to go for it so I did.
Once in the money a huge weight lifted off my shoulders. No matter what happened from here on in I could call this a success and I was going home with more money than I came with.
I always ask the pros at which stage in the tournament do they start thinking about the win. I rarely get a decent answer to this question. Players usually take the stock route by saying they take each hand as it comes. This is not how it was for me.
I had developed a huge debt totaling around £30,000 through poor consumer spending and gambling. I had won around £5,000 playing poker in my local cash game and had around £25,000 left to pay. This is all I kept thinking about. There was nearly £70k up top and if I could win, I could pay off my debt and finally have a bankroll that I could play poker with.
When we got down to the final three tables my good friend Gary Acreman and I ended up sitting next to each other in the blinds. I looked down to see pocket nines and moved all-in for around 15BB. My friend looked at his cards, looked at me and I thought he was going to cry.
“I’m sorry about this mate…I have to call.” Said Gary before turning over pocket kings.
The reason Gary was so gutted was because he didn’t need the money. He was financially secure for life and knew how knee deep in shit I was. You don’t see that in the games I am paid to watch these days. There are a lot of pros that are broke and need the win, but they hide it well. Not me. It was written all over my face. I flopped quad nines and knocked my mate out in 19th place.
Then with 13 players to go I stopped thinking about the credit card money for a bit and my ego kicked in. I kept picturing the final table. I heard my name being called out and as I marched to the table to take my seat my mates were all screaming from the rail. I was going to be in magazines. Shit I was going to have to write about myself!
At no point did I ever NOT think I would make the final table. I was cruising, laughing and joking with the other players on the table. I had been with them for so long they felt like a little family. Then in a blink of an eye they shunned me, and for the first time in my life I felt how cold and lonely poker can be.
I don’t remember the hand in great detail – a reason why I am never going to be a pro poker player – but I remember a raise coming in from mid-position and I decided to flat in the blinds with pocket jacks off a 20-25BB stack. My thought process was, ‘don’t get knocked out,’ so I was too scared to do the right thing which was to just shove.
The flop came queen high and I check called a c-bet, the turn was a low card, I checked and he moved all-in. I remember tanking for a few minutes. I got to my feet and tried to go through the hand in my head. When I talk to pro players about these moments they break down a range. This is what happened to me.
“If I call and he has a queen I am going to look like a right dick. Why didn’t I just shove? I knew this would happen. But what does he have? He wouldn’t shove with any hand holding a queen? He doesn’t shove with ace-queen or king-queen. He must have a draw. He must have something like king jack or ace king…but what if I’m wrong? This is my moment. This is the break I need.”
And so I called. I always call, and this is another reason why I was never going to make it as a player. I just don’t like to be pushed around.
“Great call.” Said my opponent who turned king-jack for the open ender.
Everyone tapped the felt in recognition. I felt like the king of the world. I remember looking around at the rail to see my friends. I wanted them to see how great I was, but nobody was there. I was so pleased with myself. I had made the right call and I was going to be at the final table. I could pay off my credit card bill, buy my wife and son some presents and have a little roll to start my life as a professional player.
I was so happy that I forgot there was another card to come. I wasn’t even looking when the dealer put the king onto the table. When I did look and saw that the dealer was handing the chips to my opponent I was confused. He had missed his draw. Then I realized that the king on the river had given him a higher pair than my jacks.
And that was that…no pats on the back, no hugs, no handshakes. The next hand was dealt before I had even sat down to collect my things. It was a horrible moment. I was a character. A member of the GUKPT cast, and now I had been savagely cut. It was one of the worst moments of my life.
I stumbled over to the cash area where my friends were playing and told them the bad news. They were all drunk and all congratulated me on my score. Nobody got it though. Nobody. That was my chance to pay off my debt and I blew it.
I am pretty sure I sat down and lost most of what I had won playing cash. I was in shock. I came back the next day and somehow made the final table of the £100 side event and with bounties and last longer bets managed to recoup my cash game losses.
That loss took me months to get over, and it made me realize that I could never be a professional poker player. I needed my future to be in my own hands, not the hands of a deck of cards. I was staking my financial future on the turn of cards and this just didn’t sit well with me.
From that point on I concentrated on my writing and poker has fallen deeper and deeper into the background. It’s a decision that I believe was the right one. You need to be able to play your poker without pressure. One day that will hopefully come, but with money earned through business, and not poker.
And who knows, maybe Blackpool will be the setting when I finally luck box my way to a decent chunk of change.
