Game Report: Big Laz's Homegame 20/1/06

The theme of Friday night could easily have been 'people do the strangest things'.

Which could have been amusing, if not for the fact that on two out of three occasions, the agent of strangeness was me. Twice I contrived to make truly donktastic plays at key moments.

The third occasion was more sinister than comedic.

To set the scene, I was playing for the first time in Big Laz's homegame. Whereas the TPT games tend to have around 6-8 players in a series of SitNGos, Laz had amassed 15 entrants for a 2-table game, including a couple of workmates from Alabama.

His set up is very impressive, with two tables and nice quality chips. My main achievement of the evening was finally mastering riffling 8 chips together.

The hospitality stretched to a sumptuous buffet, which was very well received - a polite euphemism for wolfed down in seconds - and fine whisky was also freely available from out host. I like his style!

In the main event I was going pretty well and had accumulated a fair number of chips.

Having not played a hand in the first few orbits, I ran into a succession of reasonable starting hands. 99, 55, AQs, and the like. Each time I managed to take the pot down pre-flop, or on the flop. So none of my cards were being seen.

The biggest pot came with 55, which Dave defended his big blind against. Calling my pre flop raise, and leading out with a big bet on a Q-high uncoordinated flop.

This sent me into a long dwell, which led to me concluding Dave was betting a queen he didn't have. He's much more likely to check-raise here with the queen.

I was proved right when he couldn't call my all-in bet.

From a position of relative strength, I then crashed out in flames after tangling in spectacularly dumb style with The Tank.

In MP I open raised with ATo, and was smooth called by The Tank. We both saw a flop of KK3 which, to me, looked well worth a sizeable continuation bet.

This was promptly reraised by The Tank, and effectively left me a choice of push or fold.

The obvious conclusion is fold. But I just couldn't see what was beating me. I began to fixate on the feeling that he couldn't possibly reraise here if he had a king.

With position, that would be a bet for the turn.

Equally I couldn't see him having a big pocket pair, since that would be a reraising hand pre-flop. Eventually I concluded my ace high was probably good against some sort of drawing hand.

When I pushed, he certainly looked pretty dismayed, which gave me hope.

Once he'd reluctantly called, and turned over AJs, the folly of my play became apparent. No ten or twice paired board for me, and I was out 7th of 15 in a battle of the kickers.

I won't even begin to list the number of mistakes I made in that hand. Suffice to say, I won't play it that way next time.

If you think that was bad, prepare to be astounded by even worse play in the next game.

After the main event had concluded with a 1,2,3 for Tank, Teacake and Dave, the participants split into two SitNGos.

Again I didn't see a huge number of great hands. Though I did get some chips reraising with QQ pre-flop and getting Teacake to make a disciplined laydown with what he later claimed was KQ.

Leaving him short stacked later proved to be the start if my downfall.

Players were dropping very slowly and the rising blinds meant there were a lot of pre-flop raises to take down the blinds from all positions.

Looking down at the mighty 72, and *thinking* I was open raising, I pushed all-in.

Only to discover Teacake had already pushed with his tiny stack. Crap! I was going to see a showdown.

For this execrable play I can only blame a combination of beer and fatigue. Another lesson relearned - always pay attention at the table. Phil Ivey I am not.

All folded around, and with cards on their backs I found myself up against Q2s. Dominated.

A 7 on the flop gave momentary hope, but a Q on the river brought Teacake back into the game. Which he duly went on to win, as I finished out of the money again.

So, a great venue, a munificent host, good company, and an abysmal performance by me.

If that wasn't odd enough, things were to get even odder as I arrived home at around 4am.

Unusually Mrs Div was waiting for me, and somewhat upset after something she had read on a website she is a member of.

The website is a sort of networking/community site for expectant mothers. Members are assigned to groups according to due date, and can publish diaries and participate in discussions on their forum. It lets women share their pregnancy experiences, as well as the progress of the newborns.

Whilst reading the diary of a new mother, she spotted a strangely familiar picture. A quick check of our records had confirmed to her it was indeed one of the earliest pictures taken of Baby Div - asleep in her Moses basket.

Even stranger, it wasn't one she had posted on the site. So not only was someone passing off our child as theirs, but she couldn't work out where the picture had been acquired.

On checking the site, I agreed with her opinion that it was our picture, and was able to confirm that I had published it on this very blog way back in July last year.

Of all the websites on the net, the imposter had lifted a picture from the site of the husband of one of the potential viewers of her diary.

I don't know what the odds are on that, but suddenly winning Euromillions doesn't seem so infeasible after all!

After a couple of emails/posts to the site in question, the imposter has now been revealed and their diary deleted. Investigations now suggest they were actually running more than one imaginary diary.

That's either someone with a very sick sense of humour, or severe psychological problems!

Which again goes to prove that people do the strangest things - and not just in poker.

Living For The Weekend

The weekend is here, and I've got beer in, a new poker game lined up, and permission from the wife to make a big night of it.

Tonight the TPT are venturing out to another home game, and there should be enough players to make it a 2-table SitNGo. Should be fun.

What more could I ask for?

Well......get a load of this!

Yes, I'm in for one of the biggest lottery jackpots ever.

Usually I ignore the Euromillions, but when the jackpot goes north of about £40 million, it usually catches my eye.

Tonight it should be around £85 million!!

Unlike some lotteries, there's NO tax, and NO staggered payments. The likelihood is that on Monday morning, someone will be depositing a single cheque for the equivalent of around $150 million with their suddenly obsequious local bank manager.

I've resisted the temptation to remortgage the house and 'invest' my lifetime savings in tickets. Even if I had, the odds on winning would still be infinitesimally low.

So, I won't be holding my breath.

I do hope that whoever wins is not some murderer or rapist out on parole, nor some nitwitted 16-year old girl who will be knocked up by her not so daft boyfriend before the cheque has cleared.

Equally I hope it's not some miserable 40-year old guy who still lives with his parents, and 6 months after collecting his winnings will still be living with them, still be driving his ten year old banger, still be doing the same menial job, and still won't have a girlfriend.

When I see these dull bastards moaning in the papers about how miserable the money has made them, it makes me wish Camelot had a clause in the contract that said they were entitled to reclaim the winnings if the person proved too dull to deserve the money.

Of course I want to win, but don't we all? Most of us are smart enough to know it's so unlikely as to be only worth joking about.

What I do hope for, is to hear that someone has won, chosen to remain anonymous, but has issued a statement saying they will be quitting their job immediately, sticking a prudent amount in long term investments, sorting out their friends and relatives mortgages, and heading off on a VERY long world tour with much cash in hand.

We can all hope for that.

Good News/Bad News

Good News - The maniacs are back, and they have money to spend.

Bad News - It's my money.

As the saying goes, be careful what you wish for.

Previously, I was bemoaning the lack of action at the tables. Last night had more action than Paris Hilton's bedroom.

Unfortunately for me, I got to spend the night with the chihuahua.

To be fair, the first big hit of the night was entirely my own fault.

Within a few hands, the table maniac had made himself known by raising every hand he played and playing like he had no fold button.

Soon thereafter I flopped the nut straight, with a bunch of low cards, but by the time the action got to me there'd been a raise and a reraise.

At this point, greed got the better of me. My vision coloured by the fact the reraise had come from the resident maniac, I re-reraised, only to see the first bettor fold and the maniac go all-in.

Cards on their backs, and my hand didn't look so good. The maniac had the same straight, but with a draw to a better one. Which duly arrived on the river.

Omaha 101. Don't get all your chips in on the flop with an unimprovable hand.

Unfortunately that was a lesson learned, which proved to be utterly futile.

The maniac proved to be the poker equivalent of The Teflon Don. No matter how bad his starting hands, or how stupidly he played them, nobody could lay a glove on him.

By the end of the night he'd quintupled his buy-in with gems such as:

• calling a raise and re-raise on the flop and hitting his 2-outer


• getting it all in on the turn with 2 pair against a made straight and nut flush draw, only to hit his full house on the river

According to Cardplayer he was 7% to hit the first, and 12% the second.

Meanwhile my hard earned lesson was going to waste. Three times I managed to get my chips in with the nuts, plus the best draw. Each time I either split the hand when there was no improvement, or lost it to a crazy outdraw.

Yes the maniac got me with his 12%er. Just as well Mrs Div was at the gym, and the baby was sleeping. I would not have been good company at that moment.

Even when he lost he still got lucky. Betting my made Broadway hard, I was sick to see the board pair on the river.

What could he have been drawing too? Only a full house I thought, so when he checked to me on the river I checked behind, fearing the worst.

I was happy to see the pot slide my way. Agog, when I saw he'd called a pot size bet on the turn, drawing to a WHEEL against my made Broadway. If only he'd hit.

Despite his successes, when he finally departed with his booty the rest of the table seemed genuinely disappointed. It was certainly action packed, and I doubt he will hold onto the cash for long.

For a few minutes after each beat I was steaming, but really you have to take the rough with the smooth.

That's the nature of the game. Without maniacs, there'd be a lot less fun, and a whole lot less cash on the table.

Every dog must have his day. Even if he is a 93/7 underdog.

A Poker Education

For the first time in a while I actually got some decent time at the virtual tables on Friday night.

The late night was hardly worth the effort since the play was so flat. I was pretty much card dead throughout, and my few decent hands didn't generate much action.

I've seen it suggested elsewhere that January is an arid month for online players, since many of the biggest donators are skint after Christmas, and don't reappear for a while.

This makes a lot of sense to me. Logic would dictate that the loose fishy players who are the key contributors to my online bankroll are probably the sort of feckless types who max out the credit card and overdraft in December, with no clear plan as to how to pay it off.

Of course, since they are losing players, they have no Neteller reserve to dip into to reload their poker accounts, so they need to await the arrival of the January salary to provide more funds to lose online.

Much more entertaining than Friday's online efforts was Saturday's outing to The Cincinnati Club in Glasgow.

Dave Colclough has overhauled the management of the cardroom, and introduced a £100 rebuy on Saturday's - which Littlewoods had sponsored by making it a £10k guaranteed prizepool.

I wasn't playing, but a few friends were, so I went in to railbird and enjoy the festivities.

My mates didn't cash, but we did get to spend some time with a few of the southern softies who had come up to support Dave in his new venture.

Chief amongst them were Rob Yong, Simon 'Chubbs' Nowab, and Nick Whiten.

Let me tell you, if those guys played as good as they talked, there would be no point anyone else turning up!! They probably drink so much for medicinal purposes - to keep their throats lubricated.

They're very good company, and generous to a fault. If anyone wants a new perspective on the WSOP, check out Rob's diary from 2005 on Blonde Poker. A cracking read.

The highlight of the night (sometime around 5am) was seeing Rob, then Chubbs, take on Dave Colclough heads up.

It's not often you get the chance to see such serious players at close quarters. Not only seeing every hand, but also hearing the speechplay, and seeing their mannerisms and reaction as the game ebbed and flowed.

I was shattered by that point, but the poker was gripping, and I'd consider it a priceless learning experience.

Let's Buy PokerStars

Saw this on Blondepoker - Let's Buy Poker Stars.

Or perhaps the bloggers should mount a counter-bid to the RGP offer?

After all, wasn't ScurvyDog suggesting 2006 was the year for bloggers to get more active?

Ooops I Did It Again

Another new month, another horrendous opening session.

Fortunately, since I'd been offline for about a week, I'd decided to kick things off with a night of low buy-in poker. So while the count in buy-ins was high, the fiscal punishment was relatively low.

I've just finished Nolan Dalla's compelling biography of Stuey Ungar - The Man Behind The Shades.

One quote from that book rattled around my head throughout the session. Billy Baxter's pronouncement that 'Poker is like pool. Some days you make every shot; other days you hit nothing but the rail.'

Hitting the rail last night meant doubling through fairly rapidly on table one; before losing the lot when my top set lost to middle set spiking their one outer for quads.

Simultaneously on table two, another buy in disappeared when another top set hand saw all the chips in on the turn, against someone holding 2-pair and a gutshot. The gutshot arrived on the river.

At that point the red mist descended and the tilt monster took hold.

Oddly, I now seem more prone to tilting than when I first started playing. I suspect it's down to understanding the game better, and instinctively knowing the odds.

Whereas before I had a vague idea that I'd been rather unlucky, I now know instantly when I've lost to a 10/1 shot after offering the caller 2/1 odds.

The most annoying thing was that gutshot guy took an eternity to make the call. The longer he waited, the worse feeling I got about it. When I should have been willing him to call, because I knew he was well behind, I found myself thinking 'fold, fold'.

Sometimes I can be philosophical about these things. Sometimes I can be uberpiqued. Last night was definitely an uberpique night.

Last week I delved into Super System 2 for the first time.

An early chapter covers Doyle's views on internet poker. One of the benefits he lists is that more hands per hour means variance evens out more quickly.

Which is a perfectly rational and positive minded comment. It's just that sometimes it's easy to miss this, and just recall the bad beats coming along twice as fast.

I should perhaps add that to my list of aims for the year. Stay positive, embrace the bad beats, and remember the awful calls that went well - of which there are many more.

Why I Am Useless At Live Poker

A few of my posts in the last month or two have reported my crashing and burning in live MTTs - usually whilst attempting some sort of 'fancy move'.

This week I got a match report from fellow TPTer Dave, on his most recent live excursion. An excerpt of which follows, with his permission. The names have been changed to protect the participants...

We are midway through the rebuy period, when a pot develops between two guys, a Swedish dude (Player 1) I got to know well, and Player 2.

Anyway a wee raise and call, then the flop comes A 5 7

Player 1 comes out betting 1/2 pot, Player 2 flat calls.

Turn 9

Player 1 bets same amount (obviously this is only 1/4 the now growing pot)

Player 2 flat calls

River brings a second A

So the board now look like this: A 5 7 9 A

Pot size is now roughly 6000
Player 1 has 2000
Player 2 has 2500

Player 1 then bets 1500......

Player 2 looks uneasy, then says the following:

"I know you must have an Ace, and must be sitting with trip aces.....so I'll fold, and show you how lucky you were to hit that river"

Player 2 then proceeds to flip over his hand to reveal.....wait for it.....5 5!!!...Much to the astonishment of the table....

HE FOLDED THE FULL HOUSE!

As Teacake responded - What's that quote about making a good move on a bad player is a bad move?

Lesson learned. It's ABC poker next time from me!

Reclaiming Your Poker Rake

When I started playing poker, I had no idea what rakeback was.

Within a year, it seemed only common sense to set up a rakeback account for some of the networks I played on.

Initially I did a little bit of research within the blogger community, but I didn't get any clear recommendation on sites to avoid or go with.

Eventually, I settled on Rake The Rake since they covered the poker rooms which I did not yet have accounts with, and wanted to add to my poker portfolio.

I wanted to avoid having several rakeback arrangements with different organisations for different poker sites.

Like most of the rakeback sites, Rake The Rake web pages are pretty amateurish and the sign up processes are mainly manual, rather than automated. Most of these companies seem to be very small operations.

Never judge a book by it's cover. Their customer service puts the majority of the big poker sites to shame. Admittedly that's a bit like saying, 'well he's not quite as bad as Pol Pot or Hitler', but it's a recommendation nonetheless.

I didn't want to shill them in any way until I was happy with their service and reliability. After 3 months, I can say the payments have all hit my account bang on time.

I got an email from them this morning, offering an extra bonus to new recruits during January - an extra $10 in your account after 200 raked hands - so this seemed like an opportune moment. There's an extra $5 in it for me too, so don't be shy.

They run monthly member only promos - such as freerolls. The info is on their site. They have even come up with a sort of workaround for the lack of Party Poker rakeback. Not perfect, but better than nothing.

As I said, their processes are pretty manual. So there's no bonus code as such.

Instead, if you are interested, go to the Rake The Rake website, and - if you like what you see - quote my member number (RTR04083) in your sign up email.

Shill ends.

2005 Poker Review

Well, since I kicked off this blog at the start of last year, I can effectively roll up the annual review and blog anniversary posts into one.

Which is just as well, as I'm lagging behind again.

Looking back to my earliest posts, it's amazing how much things have changed already.

In the early days I was playing exclusively No Limit Hold Em SnG on Pacific Poker, within a few weeks I'd moved on to cash Limit Hold Em on Party Poker, and by year end I was playing cash Omaha and Omaha Hi/Lo across a number of sites, including PokerStars.

In the interim I've played the very occasional blogger tourney (damn international time zones), read a lot of great posts, had some extreme silliness at the micro NLH tables, and even met the blogfather in person - and the blogfather's father!

I've also got involved in a homegame which meets on a too irregular basis (the TPT), and Glasgow has participated in the poker boom with the introduction of The Cincinnati Club to the scene, and rumours of card room expansion at the Gala Riverboat Casino.

Additionally, I have become something of a sponge for poker knowledge, with several books already read and re-read, and a whole pile more to work through.

The only target I set for the year was a somewhat one dimensional profit target of $6000.

Which, I'm well aware, pales into insignificance when I follow the adventures of the likes of DoubleAs or Scott McMillan, but even so I managed to miss it by a country mile.

Starting Bankroll:	$440
Ending Bankroll:	$3,469
Profit:	$3,029

So, the glass is either half full; or half empty.

I'm inclined to see it as the former, since my original target was set with a degree of naivety.

I hadn't been playing that long, I'd hit a somewhat lucky streak, and I had no appreciation of the range of games that were on offer.

Equally, I had no idea just how time consuming bringing up baby would be. Ah, how innocent I was pre-June.

As I got engrossed in games other than No Limit Hold Em, I had to stick around the micro limits a lot longer than expected. Consequently my hourly win rate has been pretty low. Multiply that by a much lower than anticipated time at the tables, and it all becomes clear.

For next year my aims are slightly broader.

I want to continue expanding my experience of other forms of poker. Next targets will probably be Stud and Stud Hi-Lo. If that goes well I might even take a crack at Triple Draw.

I don't expect to be a genius in any of these games by year end, or a mixed games specialist, but I'd certainly like to be capable of taking on a HORSE tourney without breaking out in a cold sweat.

I want to play live more. That's partly dependent on friends availability for homegames, and my capacity for getting out to play at other card rooms.

In the games I already play, I want to move up the limits. Presently I wouldn't feel comfortable buying into a Pot Limit Omaha game for more than $100.

I'd like to be in the $200 games by year end, and I should already be perfectly capable of beating the Party $3/$6 Limit Hold Em tables.

I want to take a few shots at bigger events. Maybe try to satellite into the PokerStars $500k like the guy who won $110,103 last night, after qualifying from a $3 rebuy!

Or perhaps take a shot at qualifying for one of the WSOP, WPT, or EPT events.

More of a wishlist entry, than a proper target, would be to actually attend a proper WPBT event. Since that's pretty unlikely (unless taking a shot produces a VERY good result), maybe I should have a chat with some of the UK bloggers and Jan about forming an EPBT circuit.

It would be somewhat craven to avoid setting a monetary target too, so I'll stick with the same number as last year and hope to clear $6,000.

So, to summarise:

• Learn new games


• Play live more


• Move up limits


• Take some shots


• Meet more bloggers


• Clear $6,000

That seems pretty attainable to me. Most importantly, I intend to have even more fun next year than I did last.

Despite the occasional badbeats, nonsensical play, and teeth grindingly irritating table chat, poker is still lots-and-lots of fun, with many more highpoints than lows.

I'm lucky to have found a hobby which is effectively self financing, and which has given me a lot of pleasure, as well as an outlet for my more creative impulses.

Wishing you a happy, and successful 2006.

December Summary

But first, a very Happy New Year to you and your family, from me and mine.



This post brought to you courtesy of Baby Div, who poses the question:

If blogs are gay, how come bloggers keep posting photos of their kids?

Not much to report for December, due to low poker volume. Really it was pretty much a rerun of November...

Start month really badly, grit teeth, and grind back to even and (just) beyond by month end.

I'll post a years end summary soon, but whatever I write will pale in comparison with the likes of Pauly - the man who is living the dream.

Game Report: Cincinnati Club Limited Rebuy 29/12/05

Before writing up a trip report proper for this night, it's worth covering some recent changes to the organisation of The Cincinnati Club.

I don't know the ins-and-outs in terms of the commercials, but the long-and-short of it is the poker side of the club is now being managed by poker pro Dave 'El Blondie' Colclough of Blonde Poker.

The changes which have been introduced to the regular game are:

- all tables dealt by professional dealers rather than self dealt
- a full-time tournament director
- 4000 starting chips for a £20 initial buy-in
- 50/50 blinds for 30 minutes then 50/100 for 30 minutes
- a max of two £20 rebuys in the 60 minute rebuy period
- a very gentle blind increment thereafter
- a very flat payout structure

All of which leads to a fantastic amount of play, in a very professional atmosphere. It's early days for the new regime, but they are off to a flier in my eyes.

Thursday was a long day for me, since Baby Div had been safely deposited with the doting grandparents while the Mrs and I did some shopping, before partaking of a very leisurely late lunch in a tapas bar, over several glasses of rioja (yes, we were in Glasgow, Scotland) to celebrate my birthday.

After collecting baby and returning home, there was no time for a nap before braving the snow and heading off to the club.

My live poker excursions (homegames excepted) are all too rare, and I was ready to play, particularly as we were relatively mob handed - myself, Dave, Teacake, and Pat all making the trip.

There were about forty runners which meant a final table of nine and top five paid.

After drawing for seats, I was disappointed to find Dave sitting two to my left. I'm sure there were easier blinds to steal in the room.

Initially I didn't get involved at all. With the blinds so low I didn't see any point committing chips unless there was a pot worth winning, and with a steady succession of 92, 83 hole cards being dealt, I didn't have much ammo to work with.

That all changed in the second half hour, with blinds at 50/100. In my BB I saw a raise from MP. Unusually it was a min raise to 200, when most raises were in the 3-5 BB range.

Unsurprisingly the guy found a couple of callers, including the SB, at which point I found myself staring at two lovely aces in the BB.

Hmmm. I hadn't played a hand all night, yet here I was in a raised pot, with several callers, looking at Aces. Out of position. What to do?

My immediate instinct was to reraise and thin the field. However, on my previous visit to CinCins, I felt I'd played my big hands a bit too hard, and not milked enough chips.

A reraise from me would just be screaming 'monster'. So, I decided to play it slow and take the risk of trying to gain the maximum chips. Call.

The flop was 334, and the SB - a spitting image of Albie Kinsella in Cracker - immediately bet out for 1000. Roughly a pot size bet, and a quarter of the starting stack.

My gut reaction was, no way does this guy have a 3. But there's a problem...Raising now would probably take the pot, and lose my customers, unless one of the callers has a 3. In which case my position is going to kill me later in the hand.

So, I decided to smooth call, and see how the rest of the table reacted. Everyone folded except the initial raiser, who is as likely to have a 3 as I am to have a 3some with Jessicas Simpson and Alba.

Now I'm eyeing his chips hungrily and praying he has KK or some similarly unputdownable hand.

The turn is a blank, and Albie bets out another 1000, which now starts to look pretty weak in the context of the pot size. He also - in my mind at least - seemed pretty uncomfortable, and I now made the determination that he didn't have a 3.

I started to think, medium pocket pair for Albie. Something like 88.

Since I was convinced I had the original raiser well beat, I smooth called again, hoping he would be thinking the same as me about Albie, and would move in to kill the action. He folded.

Crap! Now I wished I'd raised the turn.

When the river brought a second four, I got a horrible sinking feeling.

Albie again bet 1000. To call would leave me with 900, and no way was I passing, so I moved in. Hoping my initial read was correct.

He insta-called, showing 64 for the rivered full house. Double crap. Rebuy!

How I played the hand has been annoying me for two days, and I'm still veering between 'I played abysmally', and 'I played fine but got unlucky'. Veering more to the former than the latter.

I probably should have moved in on the turn, but still am not 100% sold on that.

That's the beauty of poker. If I can't agree with myself how I should have played, how can I possibly agree with anyone else?

Speaking to both players later, I discovered the initial raiser had TT, so not quite as monstrous a hand as I'd been hoping.

Albie, unlike his TV lookalike, turned out to be a very amiable guy, and I couldn't fault how he played. He busted out later in a vicious hand with Dave, where both made straights - Dave's being higher.

With several rebuys at the table, my replenished stack of 4000 was already comparatively short, so I knew I needed to make a few more moves.

The first opportunity came on my next BB when I saw a free flop with 34, and turned the idiot end of an OESD. Albie bet out on the six, but this time I raised.

He gave me a long hard look-up, and eventually folded. Much to my (hopefully undetectable) relief.

I declined the option of a final top-up, as it wouldn't have done much other than pull me back to an average stack, and I could feel the long day catching up on me.

Instead, I decided to look for a double through, or retire to the bar to enjoy the final hours of my birthday.

With the blinds now escalating, things were getting exciting, and I was looking for opportunities.

The first of which came when on my button, several limpers ran into a late position raiser, and I found myself looking down at 88 - not a monster, but playable.

Something about the manner of the raiser made me feel he wasn't exactly in love with his hand. My gut feel was something like AJ or AT. The raise seemed almost reluctant.

With a deeper stack, I'd have taken a flop, but I only had room for one decent raise. If the guy moved over the top, I'd have to call.

So, I made the raise. All folded back to the raiser, who gave it a long dwell, before passing JJ face up. I VERY carefully mucked my 88.

What a buzz. That's why I wish I played live more often.

My stack was still pretty weak but I had won time to pick another spot, which came when one of the bigger gamblers brought a hefty stack to the table, and within a few hands had open raised into my AKs.

Given our comparative stacks, there was only one move. All-in.

He quickly called and his A8 put me in great shape. No improvement for either of us, and suddenly I was back in the pack. Which is where it all went wrong...

As with AA, I found another big hand in the BB. This time TT. Sitting in the 1 seat, I'd seen a mid position limper, but failed to realise the SB - new to the table and sitting on the other side of the dealer - had completed. Stupid me.

So, my raise was not big enough to push out either limper. When the flop came down K high, and the SB bet out, I figured he'd caught part of it, but I couldn't be sure he'd hit a king, and even so, as the pre-flop raiser, I still had the initiative.

Just as important, giving up the hand now would leave me very short stacked, with the blinds climbing.

So, I decided to press on by representing AK or better, and raised. His reraise left me no option but to call all-in knowing I was behind, and he flipped K4s for a flopped two pair.

I had to laugh. There's me trying to represent AK to someone who is hoping that's exactly what I'm holding. No 2-outer for me, and time to hit the bar after a sporting handshake with my vanquisher.

We stuck around to railbird the final table, and were delighted to see Dave take third after almost seven hours play. There was no deal and the last two played to a rapid finish.

A long but very enjoyable night. The structure really is superb, with lots of play, and a very fair payout. Poker as it should be played.

I'd love to make it a weekly event, but realistically other demands mean I'm not going to make it that often.

However, as MacArthur said, 'I shall return', and, as he might have added, I'll be leaving with the money one of these days.

Merry Poker-mas To Me

In the run up to Christmas I left my job. The guys in the office gave me some book vouchers, and presciently commented 'We didn't know which ones to buy you, but we reckon you'll spend these on poker books.'

I scooped some other vouchers as Christmas presents, and put them to good use on a few X-Box games plus the following hoard...



Recently I've been re-reading my old strategy books, and I wanted to add a few to the collection. Brunson, Cloutier, and McEvoy are good enough for me!

More than that, I wanted to read some books with an orientation on the human side of the game. Hence the Stuey Ungar biography, as well as Anthony Holden's book, and of course, I HAD to get round to Hunter S. Thompson eventually.

Not quite a poker book, but in the general locale.

Let's Be Careful Out There

Online Poker Addict Jailed For A Year

I wonder what sites she played on.

Why I Love PokerStars

Been a hectic few days. Quite a lot of bloggable material, but not yet much time to put it together.

In my spare time, I've been clawing my way back to even for the month on the PokerStars PLO tables.

As I mentioned previously, the holiday season seems to have really brought out the crazies, leading to some very swingy sessions.

I've also been re-reading How Good Is Your Pot Limit Omaha - which is written in a multiple choice structure, so why not try this on for size...

With a mediocre AAxx hand, you limp with most of the table to see a AJx flop with two hearts.

An opponent bets, you raise, he reraises, you reraise all-in, he calls.

Fearing the flush draw, you are appalled when the 5h hits on the turn, but delighted when a second five hits on the river giving you the nut full house.

When the cards are flipped, is your opponent holding:

a. An unfortunate flush and straight draw
b. An optimistic flush draw only
c. A somewhat foolish straight only draw
d. Something else
e. 55xx

Answer: d. Something else. The guy had JJxx. No hearts, no straight draw, nothing but middle set. Drawing to a single jack for quads.

Love it!

Festive Fun

This is something you can have fun with when you have friends or family round over the holiday season. Upload a photo and see which celebrities you most closely resemble.

I'm not sure how accurate the system is, but it's a laugh. The first pic I tried, I got a pretty good match for Kevin Costner. Interestingly the second closest match was for fellow Scot Jackie Stewart.

The next pic I tried was seriously ego stroking - top match for Keanu Reeves (yeah!), and second was Ewan McGregor - another Scot, so maybe there is something in this genes malarky.

However, the top match for another of my photos rather weakened my faith in the system...Britney Spears. Hmmm. Can't quite see it myself.

Mrs Div seems to be pretty close to Annette Benning, and also scored highly for Penelope Cruz, Isabella Rossellini, Courteney Cox and Sarah Michelle Gellar.

Hmmm, remind me why I married her again?

So Here It Is...

...Merry Christmas.

The shopping is done, the presents are wrapped and under the tree, and I'm looking forward to our first Christmas as a family.

Absolutely zilch to report on the poker front, since I've been getting on with the much more important business of catching up with family and friends - which finds me today nursing a gargantuan hangover.

I'm not huge on the commercial aspects of Christmas, but I do like to take the chance afforded by extended holidays to socialise with those who I have been in only sporadic contact with over the rest of the year.

However you choose to spend the festive season, I hope you have a great time.

Back To Poker

But first a quick football update.

I got a commendably swift response from the Whistleblower site, and have had a short interchange with them, which is still ongoing.

I'll update further when that is concluded.

On the poker front, I'm seeing some extraordinary play in the last day or two. It must be the holiday season bringing out the occasional players.

I genuinely wonder if some of them know the rules of the game they are playing. This leads to a lot of straights losing to 2-pair that fill up on the river, sets losing to people drawing to mediocre flushes and backing into straights, etc.

That's all part of the game, and it's just a case of taking the medicine and getting back to the table.

The bonus is the players are often so bad, they don't get paid when they hit. Instead choosing to check it down, and let me see for free just how lucky they got.

One ATM this afternoon burned through EIGHT buy-ins in about forty five minutes, playing and raising well over half his starting hands. It was incredible to watch.

I was the happy recipient of some of his money, but I've redistributed it elsewhere tonight.

The other thing I've noticed is that chat is even worse than normal. So, I've had to turn it off again.

Which is a shame, since poker is a sociable game. But there's only so many moronic rednecks I can tolerate, before I start to get distracted.

It's fun to needle them, but leads me astray from the cards, so time to set temptation aside, for now.

Constable Savage and Commentator Brown

This article has been bouncing around my head for a few weeks, but since very few Celtic fans read my blog, it didn't seem relevant enough to post. Thanks to Paul at Celtic Quick News, things have changed somewhat in the last day!

The inspiration was hearing the classic Not The Nine O'Clock News Constable Savage sketch, on a matchday morning.

As the sketch progressed, I couldn't help but transpose Jock Brown and his ongoing obsession with Neil Lennon, for the aforementioned constable.

(As an aside, there's a long standing movie cliche that the boy/girl usually fight like crazy before eventually succumbing to their true feelings. Does Jock have a crush on Neil?)

Of course all of this is purely a product of my fevered imagination, and couldn't possibly have the slightest grounding in reality or fact.

------------------------------------------------------------
The Scene: Jock(J) is taken to task by the producer(P) for complaints about his commentating.

P: (The Setanta producer’s voice has a cutting edge.) Come in, shut the door. Now then, Brown, I want to talk to you about some comments you have been making lately. I think that perhaps you’re being a little overzealous.
J: (in a loud and somewhat pompous voice) Which comments do you mean then, sir?
P: Well, for instance, this one: loitering with intent to pass the ball to a team mate. Brown, maybe you’re not aware of this, but it is not illegal to make an accurate pass. Neither is running less quickly than others an offence.
J: You’re sure, sir?
P: Also there is no law against making a tackle on an opponent or sweating on the field of play.
J: If you say so, sir.
P: Yes, I do say so, Brown! Didn’t they teach you anything at law school?
J: I’m sorry, sir.
P: Some of these cases are plain stupid: looking at Barry Ferguson in a funny way ...Is this some kind of joke, Brown?
J: No, sir.
P: And we have some more here: walking on the grass, wearing a hooped shirt in a built-up area on a Sunday afternoon and possession of an offensive heritage. In short, Brown, in the space of one season you’ve brought 117 ridiculous, trumped-up and ludicrous charges.
J: Yes, sir.
P: Against the same man, Brown.
J: Yes, sir.
P: A Mr Neil Lennon of Glasgow Celtic.
J: Yes, sir.
P: (to Brown, who’s been standing so far) Sit down, Brown!
J: Yes, sir.
P: Brown, why do you keep criticising this man?
J: He’s a villain, sir.
P: A villain...
J: And a jailbird.
P: (exploding) I know he’s a jailbird, Brown. He’s down in the cells now. The SFA are holding him on a charge of possession of ginger hair and an Irish accent.
J: Well, well, well, well there you are, sir.
P: You accused him, Brown!
J: (stupidly pleased) Thank you, sir.
P: Brown, would I be correct in assuming that Mr Lennon is a Catholic gentleman?
J: Well, I can’t say I’ve ever noticed, sir.
P: (absolutely furious) Brown, you’re a bigot. It’s journalists like you that give the media a bad name. The fans love to jump on instances like that and the reputation of our profession can be permanently tarnished. Your whole time on television is dominated by racial hatred and petty personal vendettas. Do you get some kind of perverted gratification from going around stirring up trouble?
J: Yes (!), sir!
P: There’s no room for men like you in my company, Brown. I’m transferring you to The Sunday People. Get out!
J: Thank you, sir. (leaves the room)

The Corrupt State Of Scottish Football

When I started this blog, it was necessary to enter a blog description. As part of my description, I included the phrase 'Occasional comments on Glasgow Celtic Football Club, and the rotten, corrupt state of Scottish football.'

The word corrupt is a pretty strong one, and to understand where I was coming from, it may be instructive to pay a visit to the dictionary.com definition of the word corrupt.

1. Marked by immorality and perversion; depraved.
2. Venal; dishonest: a corrupt mayor.
3. Containing errors or alterations, as a text: a corrupt translation.
4. Archaic. Tainted; putrid.
Whilst I certainly think that Scottish football can at times be described as immoral, tainted, and putrid, my main interest is in the venal and dishonest.

The game in Scotland is administered by people who gain a lot from the game, but offer little in return - which certainly meets the definition of venal. I'm thinking here of the faceless suits who finagle their way into office bearing positions, and gain access to worldwide junkets financed indirectly by the season ticket holders at clubs across Scotland.

Scotland will not have a football team at World Cup 2006, but I guarantee we will have some men in suits there, and probably their wives too. They will fly business class, stay in expensive hotels, and dine in fine restaurants.

More importantly, in my eyes, there is a huge amount of dishonesty prevalent in the refereeing of the game. Dishonesty not in the sense of results being bought, but dishonesty in the sense of a complete refusal to accept any error or misjudgement on the part of those who officiate.

It seems to me those in power recognise that any admission of incompetence by the men-in-black on a Saturday, might reflect on their own shortcomings, and provide ammunition for those who seek an overhaul of the entire game.

The SFA tends to rule in the manner of an extreme communist regime, where control is centralised and no failings are ever acknowledged.

Proving this inherent dishonesty is usually rather tricky, as most incidents fall into the category of 'calling it as he saw it'. The defence which is usually deployed goes along the lines 'The referee only sees it once, and can't be faulted if he saw it wrong. He doesn't have the benefit of TV replays.'

The fact that everyone else in the stadium saw the incident differently without recourse to a TV replay is of no consequence to those in control.

As part of their ongoing PR campaign to protect referees from criticism, the SFA introduced the Whistleblower website.

This site is trumpeted as tackling head-on any controversial decisions, with the referees themselves explaining the decision. 'Explaining' in SFA terms, being a synonym for 'justifying'.

What this means in practise, is controversial incidents which the referee got wrong are either ignored, or reinterpreted, and controversial incidents where the referee got it right are highlighted.

Except this weekend, the SFA are damned by their very own words. The incident in question concerns a penalty awarded to Inverness Caledonian Thistle in their game against Celtic.

The penalty was controversial for two reasons.

1. Many observers felt it was not a penalty. The suggestion being that Inverness Caledonian Thistle player Craig Dargo dived, when tackled by Celtic's Stephen McManus.
2. The penalty having been awarded, some people claimed that McManus should have been yellow carded, and consequently sent off for a second yellow card.

The Whistleblower site, as expected, completely ignores reason 1, as that might imply criticism of referee Stuart Dougal, and instead focuses on why Mr Dougal did not send off McManus.

In doing so, they damn themselves with their own words. The words in question being a DIRECT QUOTE from Stuart Dougal.

The key quote is

On the penalty incident which Dougal said was "impeding rather than a physical or brutal challenge"

Note a direct quote from Stuart Dougal, that the punishable offence was 'impeding'.

Mr Dougal then goes on to say, again in a direct quote, 'Given the position of the infringement and the type of offence, the award of the penalty was sufficient. A foul yes, a penalty kick yes but a cautionable offence..no!'

Now see Law 12 of the Laws Of Football, as documented on the FIFA website.

'An indirect free kick is also awarded to the opposing team if a player, in the opinion of the referee:

plays in a dangerous manner
impedes the progress of an opponent'

Further, see Law 14 of the Laws Of Football, which states 'A penalty kick is awarded against a team that commits one of the ten offences for which a direct free kick is awarded, inside its own penalty area and while the ball is in play.'

So, in the section of the SFA website dedicated to explaining the actions of referees, Mr Dougal has admitted that he incorrectly awarded a penalty to Inverness Caledonian Thistle, when in his own opinion the offence which was committed merited only an indirect freekick.

The usual 'called it as he saw it' defence cannot be brought to bear, since Mr Dougal himself admits to calling it differently to what he actually saw.

Yet somehow this blatant misapplication of the laws of the game is completely ignored. Not only did Mr Dougal get it wrong at the time, he is getting it wrong on the official SFA website, and his comments pass without challenge.

In doing so, the SFA confirms the corruption of the Scottish game.

U2 Can Be On The BBC

Well, fingers crossed but perhaps the slump is over. Two winning sessions in a row.

Hardly the stuff of early retirement and a life of leisure, but substantially better than what had gone before.

I'm still stuck for the month, but not quite so badly. That was a truly evil run of cards, for which I have at least some documentary proof.


Can you believe those stats? This in a game where 60% of players routinely see a flop - though most of them are pretty bad.

Whilst checking my Sitemeter stats I was prompted to pick up another interesting screen capture. Somehow I'd got a referral from the BBC Six Music website - my favourite online station.


On checking the site, I discovered my blog was showing in the 'Music News From The Web' section. I'm guessing they run some sort of filter for band names and somehow mistook fiery footballer Roy Keane, for middle-of-the-road tunesters Keane.

Not a mistake I'd like to make, but an explanation for the rather obtuse title of this post.

Will Roy Be Keane To Fit In?

Och, I know that's as cheesy a headline as you can get, but I couldn't resist.

No matter how cringeworthy the headline, the point is valid. Where will Roy Keane play for Celtic?

I can't see him going to centre half. All the suggestions are Du Wei is a quality defender, and he will take over from Bobo Balde when he goes to play in the African Nations competition.

Midfield? Drop Lennon or Petrov? Can't see it.

Petrov to wide right, Nakamura to the left. Maybe.

Keane on bench? Impossible.

Still, better too many good players than not enough. I'd have preferred the money to go on two quality full backs though.

One thing is for sure, as a business decision it's already looking good. When I tried to access the official Celtic website this afternoon, it had crashed.

That shows the extent of the Roy Keane effect. The number of hits generated must have been phenomenal.

The Celtic commercial department will be having a very merry Christmas, I'm sure.

Roy Keane Signs For Celtic Until 2007

I recorded my views on Roy Keane signing for Celtic a while ago.

His signing until 2007 is something of a surprise. I'd expected 6 months with a 12 month option to follow.

The most important question is, does the manager actually want him here?

We will find out exactly where Gordon Strachan sees him fitting into the Celtic jigsaw in January - reportedly against Clyde.

They will need a bigger media room at Broadwood.

Vegas Envy

I love to travel; and I love to play poker.

So, you will understand the extreme jealousy I am experiencing whilst perusing the myriad Vegas trip reports.

With only three days remaining in my present job, and two weeks holidays awaiting me, I really should be in a better mood.

Maybe it's the Vegas envy. Maybe it's withdrawal symptoms, since I've barely had time to wield mouse or chip in December. Maybe it's frustration that whenever I do, the results are against me - no matter how far ahead I am when the chips go in.

Whatever the reason, some local apprentice chose the wrong person to get gallus with in front of his workmate.

Ambling to work, across the industrial estate within which my hi-tech office was bizarrely planted, I crossed the path of a van exiting the plumbers merchant's yard.

It's worth mentioning this is a very wide exit road, with no pedestrian footpath.

In my typically semi-conscious early morning state, at first I barely noticed the van.

The exit is clearly marked as a 'Give Way' junction, and I'd be halfway across before the van got there.

Despite this, I'd usually stop and let it past - if the driver showed any sign of behaving courteously by slowing down.

That might seem a slightly perverse attitude, but generally I like to reward good behaviour rather than grumble about bad. I'm always polite to people until they are impolite to me, at which point I'll simply reflect and amplify their own impoliteness.

If the shop assistant says 'please'; I'll say 'thank you'. If they ignore me and continue chatting to their mate about what they did at the weekend, I'll butt in and talk right over them. Seems fair to me.

Returning to this morning, after crossing the road I heard a voice, but not the words it uttered. I glanced quizzically over my shoulder just as the van pulled alongside me.

The driver - who looked like he'd never needed a shave in his life - was smirking up at me, and I could see he had a passenger.

'Haw mate. This is a road.'

Pop...

'Yeah, and that's a Give Way sign! Can you drive? Do you HAVE a license? Can you read a road sign?'

If I'd turned green and burst out of my clothes, he couldn't have looked more surprised.

Jaw sagging, his gaze returned to the road, and off he drove - without a word more spoken.

Work today feels infinitely more bearable than usual.

Nappy Days

Pah. It may be WPBT time in Vegas, but this weekend was also time for the annual Jolly Boys Outing.

This has been an annual fixture in the Div calendar pretty much since I could legally drink alcohol. That's 18 years old, just for you unfortunate Americans.

The Jolly Boys Outing generally involves a bunch of us setting a day aside to get absolutely hammered, usually tied to some other activities such as a pool tournament or casino visit. Wives and partners are not invited.

This year we decided to kick off the day with the Celtic v Hibs game, which proved to be a wise decision.

Many years ago, I can recall the visits of Alex Ferguson's Aberdeen, and Jim McLean's Dundee United, as being significant events on the football calendar. The sort of game where a 1-0 win was a great result worthy of celebration afterwards.

For a very long time, save for the Rangers fixtures, there's been no comparable event to look forward to. Until now.

While Hearts gave Celtic a tough time in the recent 1-1 draw, their style of play is geared towards being organised and difficult to beat. Hibs, on the other hand, play fast, attacking football.

The stage was set then, for an entertaining 90 minutes. With such anticipation, it's not unusual for the game to be an anti-climax.

For once, the teams didn't let us down. 90 minutes of exhilarating action, great goals, fierce tackling, open play, and a real sense of drama about the whole occasion. Culminating in a 3-2 win for Celtic.

All of which left us buzzing at the final whistle, and with a healthy thirst worked up. The perfect way to kick things off.

I can't comment too much on the rest of the day, other than to say many pubs were visited, and a taxi home from the casino ended the night. My memory of the whole thing is pretty fuzzy, and two days later I'm still recovering.

Which perhaps suggests it's a blessing that I couldn't afford the time or money to make it to Vegas. Though I know at least one UK blogger did. Maybe next year.

Even though I made it to the casino, I didn't have the inclination to gamble. I'm having one of those months where everything I touch turns bad, so the prospect of a drunken blackjack session held little appeal.

I offer as an example losing with double suited Aces to a maniac who calls a raise and 24BB reraise pre-flop with K744, catches a solitary king on the most uncoordinated flop imaginable, and calls off the rest of his stack only to river another king for trips. This after I have already sat through FIVE orbits of the table without winning a hand. Waaahh.

Even worse, I'm pretty sure from his username that he was a fellow Scot. Must have been a Rangers fan!

While my poker game may be making little progress recently, it's fair to say Baby Div is going great guns. We started her on solids fairly recently, and she has taken to them with gusto.

While it's great to see her doing so well, and enjoying her new foods, one unfortunate side effect is a dramatic deterioration in her nappy output. Boy do they stink!

Which is bad enough under normal circumstances, but given my extended hangover I have really been suffering over the last 48 hours.

Such is the content of her nappies, I wouldn't be surprised to receive a furtive approach from some emissary of the Iranian Government, seeking new and deadlier warheads for their missiles.

Since we are feeding her on steamed carrots they have also adopted a most unusual hue.

The staining power of pure carrots is something I'd never appreciated before. After a few fountains of orangey, milky puke, Mrs Div and I have learned to maintain our guard at all times, and liberally swathe the baby and furniture in muslin cloths and towels to prevent staining during feeding time.

All of which works fine, but is no defence against the byproduct of the carrot consumption. Whilst dealing with one such output today, I thought my streaming eyes were deceiving me.

Despite my most vigorous efforts with a fistfull of baby wipes, I could not shift the final residue. That's when it dawned on me it was not in fact residual baby poo, but an altogether more stubborn problem.

The carrot infused poo had tanned the baby's bottom in a colour reminiscent of Christina Aguilera in one of her more outrageous moments. A problem not even the strongest baby wipe can deal with.

I did light heartedly suggest we tried a couple of Oxy-wipes as an alternative solution, but Mrs Div vetoed that one.

Bath time tonight seems to have resolved the situation, fortunately.

The Prophet

An all too familiar scene. Me on the laptop playing poker. The wife in close proximity.

A new player joins the table. Except, he isn't an entirely new player, for the notes icon is visible.

So I check what they say, and quickly beckon the wife over to see.

She laughs.

TWO HANDS into his session, the guy blows his buy-in, and leaves with tail between legs.

What did the notes say?

Total moron. Made a massive bet into a dry sidepot and pushed me off the best hand. All-in guy survived.

Will take 2 pair to showdown on a flush board.

Reraises with a set on a flush board! Absolute fuckwit.

I wasn't wrong.

A Change Is As Good As A Rest

I've been on something of a blogging hiatus this week.

Principally because there's been very little poker played - save for one 'can't win a hand' session at the weekend. Expensive and very frustrating.

It's amazing how many people will draw to see the river whilst chasing a flush draw. When they are roughly 4/1 against hitting, and it's a pot size bet to call.

In the long run (that phrase again!) it's very profitable to play against people who will take those odds. Yet there's nothing statistically unusual about three or four draws hitting in succession.

Mustn't grumble. Grrr.

Away from the world of poker, I've finally made the leap and quit my job.

Since I'd already booked extensive holidays over the Christmas period, the end will come relatively quickly. Next Friday to be precise.

As of January I return to the mercenary world of IT contracting. Initially I've lined up a 6-month contract in a location relatively close to home. Each day I should save almost two hours of commuting time, which translates to either more bed time, or more time with the family.

It's a real shame to be leaving my current employer. The owners are good guys, who treat their staff well. They just haven't been able to find enough of the work I want to do.

Contracting is a step back career wise, but has potentially higher monetary rewards - so long as I keep healthy and in employment.

It also means a lot less emotional commitment to the job at hand, which in my case at least translates to less stress.

When I was a young and naive graduate, I carried the burden of the job home with me every night. At that time I was working for a young successful firm which was growing rapidly. I knew the owners, and really liked the management, so I was perhaps over committed to the job.

When I went contracting I became emotionally detached from the work. By the time I was out the office door each night, I'd forgotten what I was working on and could unwind instantly.

The last 18 months has seen a return to my earlier days, so I'm hoping contracting will get that out of my system. Having some previous experience of the workplace I will be based in, I think it should work out that way.

The thought is also buzzing around my head that a few years of contracting might put me in a position to consider a complete career change.

I'm making no firm plans right now, but keeping an open mind.

In the short term, the new job means it's back to driving, so its time for the Div household to become a two car family.

This should really have happened before the baby arrived, but I wasn't keen to take on the cost of a new car then, so we have been getting by with a (not so) super mini until now.

This weekend Mrs Div and I will be touring the showrooms, wrestling with the quandary of whether to go down the MPV or estate route.

I'm more inclined towards a big diesel estate, but some people suggest an MPV is a more baby friendly option. We might try to sort out a few test drives prior to Christmas.

I am hoping this will be a quiet time of year for car sales, and we might catch a few good deals if the garages want to boost their end of year numbers. Time to get the negotiating hat on.

Game Report: Cincinnati Club Limited Rebuy 1/12/05

Made it along to The Cincinnati Club last Thursday for their regular limited rebuy NLH tourney. (Yes I am behind on updates)

The club was pretty busy with forty odd runners in the tourney and two cash games kicking off quickly thereafter. A small buy in NLH game, and the big 6-card Omaha game.

I heard a rumour that the Sunday 6-card Omaha game is seeing over six figures worth of chips on the table! I like my Omaha, but I'd need to remortgage the house to buy in to that game. The swings must be enormous.

With the club busy I found myself seated at one of the upstairs tables for the commencement of the tourney.

Early doors I was getting loads of decent but not great hands. First two hands I was dealt ATs twice.

Each time I open-raised, got called, missed the flop but made a continuation bet, and saw the opponent(s) fold. Very nice.

I was pretty aware folk would be getting sick of my constant raising and betting so was hoping for a big hand to get properly paid with.

Sure enough, along comes QQ. I raise, guy reraises, I thought about going all-in but called to see a Qxx flop. Very nice.

I check check-called the flop, and think I might have check-raised on the turn. Can't remember the exact details. Anyway, the opponent put all his chips in with 77(no set). He must have thought I had AK.

(Note to self - must take notes after big hands)

I then got AA soon after and picked up two callers to my raise. One of whom folded to a flop bet on a board with two hearts. The other check-called. Turn was a non heart queen, so assuming he was flushing, I put him all in.

He called with Q-rag of hearts and missed on the river. My chip stack was looking pretty healthy at the break, so I declined the top up.

After that it was all downhill. I got AQs. Raised, and at this point one of the guys says 'Is that you got KK to complete your collection?' With two callers I saw a K high flop which totally missed me again. First guy bets and I fold.

I also tangled with local poker pro The Tank. Who in real life resembles a tank as much as I resemble Brad Pitt.

When trying to take his blind with my KTo, he called pre flop, then raised all in when I bet the flop (which I'd missed yet again!). I think I was probably ahead, but it was a pretty marginal call so I folded.

The table then broke and I went downstairs. On the new table fellow TPT member Teacake busted out almost immediately. The chips went in on an Ace high flop after a raise, reraise and call pre-flop - Teacake with AK, the opponent with AJ. The turn a J...

The guy who took his chips played a lot of hands, and I got few chances to open raise as he kept limping. The one chance I got, I raised with something like Q5s and the SB reraised all-in. Fold!

By now I was gradually getting blinded away with no hands at all. Eventually the other guy who'd come downstairs from my starting table made an early position raise. I trebled the bet to go all in with 98o from the button.

My reasoning was I'd been playing so tight, and he'd only ever seen me show down AA and QQ, so he'd need a monster to call. He called with AQ. Doh. No help for me and I was out.

This is an interesting hand for a variety of reasons. I checked the odds on Cardplayer and pre-flop it was 37.6%/62.4% against me. The guy had to call 5200 to win about 10,000 so it's actually a lot more marginal than it first appears.

It's also an interesting example of the folly of trying to play the opponent rather than the cards in these small buy-in events. I've only played three times at CinCins, and twice I've busted out trying to push an opponent off a better hand.

I don't think I've got a monster tell. The first time the guy admitted he thought he was beat and it was a crying call.

On reflection, I still had enough of a stack to take at least one more orbit of the blinds before making a big move, but it seemed like a great opportunity to try to steal a decent stack of chips and buy more time. If my stack dwindles much more, I won't have the firepower to put anyone to the test.

In future, I think I'll revert to ABC poker until later in the game. I seem to recall a poker pro (possibly Tom McEvoy?) saying something along the lines - you gotta stay in long enough to get lucky.

I certainly got lucky with some nice starting hands, but only really hit two flops all night - with both the big starting hands. QQ flops top set, AA flops a good enough draw to get all the flushers chips.

I was probably due some more decent hands, if I'd given myself the time. Next visit I'll try to stick around longer and get lucky.

November Summary

Looking back on my November stats reads like a minute-by-minute account of a short war. 90% boredom, 10% frantic activity.

I didn't play a great deal, and when I did, I managed to get myself into a pretty deep hole in a short period of time. Down around $400 at one point.

Yet by month end, I had somehow ground my way back into the black - though only just.

Reviewing some of my session details, the lesson is pretty clear. I need to lose the stubborn streak and bail out earlier when running bad. One bad session can overturn the good work of four or five winning ones.

Some of my stats in the winning sessions are insane. I'm seeing less than 10% of flops, but winning 80% of my showdowns. Often the table average is 60% to every flop.

When I started playing Omaha, I couldn't multi table since I found it too complex. Now I can three table. It would be four if I had a bigger monitor.

My understanding and speed of reading the board has dramatically improved, but it's also due to playing a lot less hands.

One of the dangers in Omaha is there are a multitude of potentially alluring starting hands, and it's often easier to find reasons to play a hand rather than not play it. I've learned to be very selective, especially out of position.

Aside from poker, November was pretty decent on the footballing front - the Dunfermline aberration excepted. The writing is on the wall for a few of the old guard, as Gordon Strachan moves the team in a new direction.

The January transfer window should be interesting.

Family life also has been going well, and an impending change on the job front should improve it further. More on that soon if things go to plan...

Internet Infamy At Last

Someone found my blog through searching on MSN for young illegal lolitas.

At last, I now feel truly part of the world wide web!

That was one determined pervert. I was number 100 on the list of sites. Kudos for the effort, if not the intent.

That's about the most noteworthy blog event so far this week, though I played enough poker to almost get back to even for the month. Mostly $100 PLO.

I eventually backed off, after witnessing some of the worst bad beats I have ever seen. None of them affected me directly, but one in particular was so atrocious it put me on proxy tilt.

A 1-outer in a $320 pot to catch quads over top set. Even worse, the suckout merchant was a typical obnoxious trash talking moron who was big upping himself as though he had actually played the hand well.

The table moron having the biggest stack is hardly the saddest sight one can witness in poker. Especially when he is two to the right - in perfect trapping position for Omaha. Softly, softly, catchy monkey...

Unfortunately, he decided to leave soon after his big win, claiming the table had got 'boring'. I think this is moron speak for 'I got so lucky I almost peed myself with glee, and I'm cutting and running before I blow it all'.

Understandably the suckout recipient - having reloaded - was none too happy, and wanted to go play heads up. The moron was having none of it.

That was my last serious poker session of the week. After watching Celtic's abysmal 'performance' against Dunfermline, I was on super tilt.

Instead of poker, I reinstalled Sudden Strike and spent the weekend launching artillery strikes and air raids on Panzers. Much more suited to my mood.

I did venture into two $10 SNG on PokerStars, just for fun. I soon regretted it.

These were my bread-and-butter at the start of the year, but now it's just a way of killing an hour or so.

I'd read that Stars was tougher than most sites for SNG and tourneys, but on the evidence of these two games, Thanksgiving weekend had brought out the loons.

We all know we should embrace the fish, and have carrots in hand at all times to tempt in the donkeys, but really there is a limit to what I can stand. Especially when the donkeys are of the loud, braying type.

Yet again a total luckbox - 2-outers and 3-outers on successive hands - couldn't resist telling everyone, without a hint of irony, what a great player he was.

When another player begged to differ, the slagging began. The luckbox professed himself to be a super-hard mixed martial arts champ - owner of a University of Nevada 'golddin glove' award.

Amusingly the other guy turned out to be something similar, from the same state.

After a bout of 'hey I train with Fast Fingers Freddie he'll tell you how tough I am' type comments, it almost looked like a grudge match was on, but I suspect the moron knew he was as much dead meat as dead money.

I think we can safely assume he'd never trained with Howard Lederer either.

That was enough for me. I just wasn't in the mood to stomach the stupidity that was being inflicted on me, so I gave up for the weekend. Almost as meekly as Rangers. Heh.

George Best

Time to brave the Scottish weather and head to Celtic Park for a top v bottom clash, as Dunfermline visit. The match to be preceded by a minute of applause for the now departed George Best.

I remember seeing the NME front cover reporting the death of Elvis. It showed not a bloated, jump-suited, Vegas era Elvis; but a young, leather clad, vibrant Elvis, strutting his stuff on stage.

The headline - 'Elvis, Remember Him This Way'

So it is with George Best. He can be remembered as the jaundiced, broken addict, whose shambolic personal life prematurely ended his career; or as the mesmerising attacker who left defenders trailing and entertained millions.

Some aspects of his personal life were pretty enviable too. 'The Fifth Beatle', 'The first footballer-popstar'. What young man wouldn't wish they could one day utter the immortal phrases:

'I spent a lot of my money on booze, birds and fast cars - the rest I just squandered.'

'I used to go missing a lot...Miss Canada, Miss United Kingdom, Miss World.'

No one had done it before, so his failure to handle the fame shouldn't be that surprising.



Yet Best was hardly the ideal role model, and some of his off-field behaviour went beyond questionable, and well into despicable.

So I was surprised by how affected I was by his death. Amidst the tributes, one photo really caught my eye. It wasn't an iconic shot from his Manchester United days; but a more intimate shot of Best asleep on the couch with his baby son held close. Both look content and at peace.



The Div family album has recently gained a few very similar shots. It brought home to me that while some may be given talents the rest of us can only dream of, ultimately we are all only human. We have our good side and our bad; our skills and weaknesses.

We all have our families. Best was survived by his father, who now has to bury his son.

There can be few more traumatic events in life than burying your child. My own gran had to do it three times, and it's not an experience I would wish on anyone.

I don't know how Mr Best handled the publicity over his son's private life and off-field excesses. Yet I'm sure there is one apt quote, which he will remember fondly. It's probably the same quote Best himself will wish to be remembered by:

'Pele called me the greatest footballer in the world. That is the ultimate salute to my life.'

Oma-tard or Oma-hard?

Or neither of the above, perhaps.

This has hardly been a vintage month, but I've managed to recover most of my losses on the $0.5/1 PLO8 tables.

It's gratifying that for every half-decent player, there seem to be four or five absolute muppets.

I don't lay any great claim to be an Omaha genius, but the hands some people play just leave me stunned. For example a Hi/Lo game where people start with hands like QQQ5. wtf!?

Where to start? No low draw, one card to hit for a possible top set, no straight draw, a Q high flush draw. Sheer madness.

The only frustrating this is that I need to get cards to take money off these people since the concept of folding seems alien to many of them. So it's essential to have the best hand at showdown.

This takes the art out of poker, since representing a hand is absolutely pointless. It's also extremely frustrating to see the muppets bleed cash while I wait for a hand to arrive. Patience, patience.

One thing I have indisputably learned in Omaha is that the nut flush on flop or turn is not a hand to be played subtly.

Slow playing is just begging for the sets or two pair hands that will be out there to draw to a full house.

My biggest win of last night was flopping top set on a flushing board, my pot bet being raised, calling to see the flush hit on turn.

Ready to check-fold I actually pay to see the river when my opponent makes only a small bet, and the full house hits, whereupon I relieve my opponent of all his cash.

To be fair this guy was super unlucky, as not only did he have the nut flush, but he also flopped second set, so he also made a full house on the river. Tough beat, but there would have been no river if he bet properly on the turn.

This situation is becoming a recurring theme. I've learned the lesson, let's pray the muppets continue to believe differently.

Eurobet Not Skint

The fallout from the Party Gaming upheaval continues. Some fractious, some not so fractious.

On the fractious side, Empire are now threatening to sue Party. I can see where they are coming from. The Party bully boy tactics are pretty nasty.

Whether they justify a lawsuit or not, is in the hands of the courts now.

On the non-fractious - indeed positively harmonious - side of things, Coral Eurobet have now made the switch to PokerRoom software.

The email prompting me to change software also includes a juicy 100% to $600 reload bonus. Yum, yum.

Eurobet has pretty much avoided the issue regarding the big split. Instead they simply refer to an 'upgrade' to their software.

Ignorance is bliss, I presume. Any customers so lacking in savvy they haven't worked out what has happened, are unlikely to need to understand the nuts and bolts of the situation.

It's a pretty clear indication that Eurobet intend to stay in the market in a serious way. As I said previously, they are part of a very large gaming group, and certainly not short of financial clout.

I'm not sure how the big bonus will impact on my rakeback deal, but it seems to be a no lose scenario, so long as I can find some decent games to play in on the PokerRoom network.

Green Felt Bad, Green Grass Good

Thank goodness for families and football!

If I was relying on poker to keep me happy over the last few days, I'd have been heading for the nearest cliff to throw myself off.

I recently moved up to playing the $.5/1 Pot Limit Omaha tables - both High only and Hi/Lo.

There were a few reasons for this. Partly it was just because I could - the bankroll has done quite well recently - but primarily it was because I'm trying to improve, and I need to play better players to stretch myself more.

Initially I'd been quite successful. In a way it was quite disappointing to find out the bigger buy-in brings only marginally better players to the table.

One thing I'd changed in my game after the step up was playing more deceptively, and doing less nut peddling, but the moves seem pretty wasted on most of the players.

For example, bluffing at a flush board with the bare ace still seems doomed to failure.

Over the last few nights, though, I took quite a spanking. The hand that set it off was the runner-runner quads I referred to in a previous post. That had me more than a little tilty.

Then, on Thursday night, I lost probably my biggest online pot. Somewhere in the region of $220. Chickenfeed to some; quite significant to me.

Saying I lost it is not strictly true. It was a Hi/Lo pot and I still took down one quarter.

What made it frustrating was that all the money went in on the turn when I was 90% certain I was taking at least three-quarters of the pot. As it transpired, my read was accurate, but the river was cruel.

I'd limped with a pretty good low hand and called a raise from a very aggressive Scandinavian player. I had picked up a tendency by this particular player to bet very hard when he had a good low hand, regardless of the high.

The flop came with two low cards, giving me a draw to the nut low, and 2nd pair for a high. I check-called a bet from the Scandie.

The turn gave me the nut low, and I still had 2nd pair for a high, with no obvious big hand out there. Not a massive hand, but I was pretty sure, based on previous observations, that he had the same low as me, and probably no high.

This is a pretty marginal situation, but if my read was correct, I stood to make a big profit by three-quartering my Scandie friend. So, I check-raised him, and was quite happy to see him push all-in.

Sure enough, he had the same low, and no high. Which was great. Until he made a gutshot straight on the river, to rake three-quarters of the pot. Waaahhh. Not happy.

Friday brought more pain, this time at the High tables.

The defining theme for the night was some unusually loose-aggressive play from myself, which saw me getting involved in a lot more pots than usual. Some of which I won, quite a few of which I lost.

I had been making a conscious effort to be more aggressive, but I did let it go a bit far. Not sure why. Pre-game nerves perhaps.

I did lay one brutal suckout on an opponent, based on a total misread of his betting. With top set on a flushing flop, I smooth called a bet from an EP player, hoping to keep the guys behind me in the pot, and ready to check-raise if anyone got frisky.

I was figuring EP guy for a smaller set, or two pair. I didn't think he would bet a flush draw into quite a big field.

As it happens, the players behind me all folded, leaving us heads up. So, when the flush card came on the turn, I wasn't too concerned, and raised his initial bet.

When he reraised all-in, I should have folded, but I still didn't believe he had the flush.

He did. Which was unfortunate for me - until the board paired on the river, giving me the full house.

That said, I was the victim of a few unusual plays myself, including a role reversal of the flush-turn, full house-river scenario.

The most extraordinary play was being raised and reraised pre-flop whilst holding AAxx.

The reraiser had KKK6!? Of course he won the hand with a K-high flush. One of the situations where I was holding the bare Ace.

Whether he actually knows the rules of Omaha, I don't know, but playing that hand in any circumstances is pretty bad. Reraising it preflop is insane.

Still, I shouldn't complain. I should be praying he plays every hand against me that badly.

Over the last few sessions, I reckon I could probably assign 40% of my losses to my own bad play; 40% to suckouts; and 20% to being outplayed.

That's an eminently recoverable situation. My own bad play can be improved, the suckouts even out over time, and I took copious notes on the players who actually made good moves on me. I may not be able to outplay them yet, but I can certainly avoid them.

That's one refreshing change from the lower limit tables. There are still plenty maniacs and fish at this level, but in a way it feels good to actually take some notes that don't consist entirely of words such as 'maniac', 'moron', and 'calling station'.

For the next few weeks, I think I'll be reverting to nut peddling, and more limited experimentation, while I gather more notes on other players.

Fortunately for my good nature, Celtic dished out another sound beating to Rangers yesterday. Which had the dual benefits of cheering me up, and getting me out of the house and away from poker.

It also got me extremely drunk last night, and led to a 12-hour sleep. Now you know where Baby Div gets her sleeping habits from.

Interestingly it now looks like Rangers may replace Alex McLeish with Paul le Guen - the man I thought was best choice to replace Martin O'Neill at Celtic. If they do, let's hope I was wrong!

Time will tell.

Keane-no, Keane-no, Keane-hmm, well, maybe

Roy Keane's abrupt departure from Manchester United, and his well documented affinity with Celtic, has led to the inevitable speculation that he will soon be a Celtic player.

Celtic themselves, surprisingly in my eyes, have been quick to encourage the rumours:

"If at any time Roy would like to speak to us about his future and Celtic's, we would be only too happy to speak to him, but as yet there have been no discussions."

My immediate reaction, was 'no way'.

Keane WAS a fantastic midfielder - the type who could win a game by sheer force of will. Capable of overcoming his limited technical skills with passion, determination, and an intimidating presence which drained his opponents of the will to fight.

If he was 26 years old, and fighting fit, Celtic fans would be rejoicing from the rooftops at news of his possible signing.

However, his powers are in decline, and years of all-action football have left him carrying a multitude of injuries. At 34 he had already outlived his usefulness to the Manchester United first eleven.

His formidable disciplinary record would also leave him vulnerable to the attention seeking elements of the Scottish refereeing brotherhood.

Added to this is a wage bill rumoured to be £80,000 PER WEEK at Manchester United!

Why then, would Celtic wish to recruit Roy Keane?

He would by no means be guaranteed a start in the current Celtic midfield; though he would certainly strengthen the options for squad rotation.

If, and it is a big if, he could manage a prolonged period at full fitness, he would still be more than capable of bossing most SPL midfield battles.

He would certainly boost the media profile of the club in England, where Celtic's long term ambitions lie.

One area which has not been mentioned is Ireland.

Historically, Celtic has had a big Irish following. With Sky's glamourisation - and blanket coverage - of The Premiership, the big English teams, including Manchester United, have absorbed much of the support which previously came Celtic's way.

Perhaps the board see this as an opportunity to re-invigorate their Irish connections. In the same way that the signings of Shunsuke Nakamura and Du Wei have established new Celtic connections in Japan and China.

They may see a deal which brings a degree of footballing benefit, and a degree of commercial opportunity, as being worthy of funding.

If so, I would presume any package would be on the basis of a limited salary, with generous appearance and performance bonuses.

Certainly, I don't imagine a 3-year deal to be on the table. More likely 6-months with a 1-year option.

Perhaps there will be one extra attendee at Celtic Park tomorrow. I'm sure the press cameras will be ready.

Silent Nights

Happiness is...

7.15pm Bath baby
7.30pm Change baby
7.40pm Feed baby
8.00pm Baby asleep
.
.
.
.
8.00am Baby awakes!


In other happy events, there's been news of a boost for the British comedy industry.

After years of criticism over the production of a string of sub-standard shows, while US imports shone, an unlikely new source of comedic material has emerged.

Speaking about the numerous arrests for sectarian offences amongst Rangers fans during their recent defeat by Celtic, the Rangers Supporters Trust accused police of displaying 'a nakedly political agenda by systematically and unreasonably targeting Rangers supporters'.

Why, they demanded to know, were Rangers fans 'statistically 90 times more likely to be arrested for sectarian offences than Celtic fans'?

Well, durr. I laughed so hard when I read that on the morning train, I almost exhaled coffee through my nose.

Keep up the standard of writing and they might be able to raise enough cash to hire a decent manager.

This reminds me of the old joke about the mother who goes to see her son's passing out parade from army training. She is so proud because 'my boy is the only one marching in time to the music'.

Responding to the Rangers Supporters Trust comments, a police spokesman said 'the number of arrests at last week's game reflected the general behaviour of supporters at the match.'

So there you have it.

Always Look On The Bright Side...

$100 PLO PokerStars...Flopped set, opponent with top pair, runner-runner quads. That's a 0.01% chance for you maths fetishists out there.

Need I say more?

Still, it could be worse. I could be Liu Qibing.

Boy does that guy have some explaining to do! What are the odds he is never seen again?

Better than 0.01% for sure.

Alex McLeish - Dead Manager Walking

You gotta laugh!

If yesterday's absurd shenanigans had been played out at Celtic Park instead of Ibrox, the back pages would have been awash with cracked Celtic crests today.

As it is, there's some whimpering - but hardly a huge bang - about the shambolic attempts by David Murray to replace Alex McLeish.

McLeish is still there as Murray can find nobody to replace him, and because rather than resign with a degree of dignity, he will stick around and wait for the big payoff.

Now Rangers are left to seek a new manager in the full glare of publicity, whilst striving to maintain the charade that McLeish still has a chance of saving his job.

Cheer up David. I hear Bobby Wiliamson is available!

With Hearts employing a convicted sex offender as their new first team coach, and McLeish working out how to shout instructions to the team while his neck rests on a chopping block, its a golden period for the creators of football chants.

Bankroll Management

A while ago, I suggested my idea for the perfect poker product.

Now it seems I may have been not that far out with my suggestion. According to this article on Motley Fool, Neteller may become an internet bank. That opens up a lot of scope for product innovation.

I shall await developments with interest.

Something else that's caught my eye recently is postings on several websites about people experiencing cashout difficulties from various poker rooms.

There doesn't seem to be anything nefarious going on - just some typically bad customer service.

What surprises me is the amount of people who seem to deposit to a site by credit/debit card; play a while; then cash out back to their card.

They don't seem to practise any form of online bankroll management. Instead they put cash in when they want to play, and take it out when they need it.

This seems counterproductive in a number of ways.

Unless they are running a spreadsheet or other tracking method, they will have no real idea how they are playing over time.

If, as most UK players probably do, they play on some foreign currency sites, they will incur additional transaction charges.

If they make no effort to build an online bankroll, they risk stagnation as they will never build a big enough reserve to step up to the next level.

Even worse, if they don't have good self discipline, not segregating their online bankroll may lead to their day-to-day living becoming linked to their poker performance.

Who wants the mortgage payment to be linked to the outcome of tonight's NLH game? Not me!

Looking at it from the opposite perspective, their poker game may suffer due to the same linkage. Is it really so easy to make the right move for all your chips, if you are mentally comparing the size of the bet to what you could buy with the money?

My own approach is to keep an entirely separate online bankroll, which I have gradually built up over time.

This has given me scope to play bigger games. It also means that much as I might complain about losing sessions, the bad feeling stays on the internet and doesn't permeate into my 'normal' life.

The online bankroll is not factored into my financial calculations, and I have no intention of making a withdrawal anytime soon.

Hopefully there will come a point in the future where I'll have so much money online that I need to withdraw some, but sadly that day feels a long way off.

Fizzling and Flopping

I'm on some weird kind of slow burning tilt this week.

Not the wild, blow half your bankroll in a night, get banned from chat for trash talking, type tilt. More a grating, tormenting type tilt born of a horrendous sequence of bad cards, and bad play. Some mine; some others.

There has been plenty of trash talk, but only to the wall. Last night I felt I was morphing into some bizarre combination of Victor Meldrew and Gordon Ramsay.

It's not even bad beats that are pissing me off - more bad situations and bad play.

Like the hand last night where from the SB I flopped an OESD and the nut flush draw. So many outs, and two cards to hit them.

My thinking here is being first to act, this has to be worth a bet. Partly for the fold equity, and partly to make sure I get paid if I hit. Two callers, and a blank turn.

Hmmm. No raise. Are they both on a draw too? Or is someone slow playing top set?

A check is surrender, a small bet invites a reraise, so I need to bet a decent amount. One caller, and a blank river.

Crap. I have Ace high and a fair amount invested, but this guy has displayed no strength whatsoever. If he had a monster he needed to raise on the turn at the latest. If he had something like two pair or a baby set he needs to raise the flop to find out where he is.

Logically, the only hand he can have is a similar draw to mine.

So, another decent size bet in expectation of a fold. Call. wtf?!? Two pair - flopped.

Come on! What sort of play is that? If he had raised on the river, I'd have given him credit for putting me on a draw and having nerves of steel to take me for the max.

The call says it all. He had no idea if he was ahead or behind. But hey, he had two pair, he needed to call. Three times.

Bloody hell!

Of course, this is the sort of play that makes me plenty when I flop top set. That hasn't happened to me for a while, though I did run into quads three times last night...

So, in the midst of darkness, praise the lord for Sean Maloney and Stefan Klos.

I REALLY enjoyed Wednesday night, even if the currently restricted Div budget prompted me to give up my ticket for someone else and watch on TV.

Not only did Celtic win, they did it in style, embarrassing Rangers and reducing them to petulance and brutality as their only response.

The only criticism could be they should have scored more goals, but hey they did have three strikers out injured.

It's a shame there's an international break this weekend, though the Ibrox soap opera should provide an ongoing source of entertainment.

One Big Poker Party

So Party has effectively taken over or discarded all the skins, with the exception of Empire who would seem well advised to strike a deal quickly.

Pretty ruthless, but that's business!

It will be interesting to see what Coral Eurobet do. They have the capacity to become another Pacific/888, if they can get a decent poker platform up and running quickly.

I wonder if they have one of the remaining independents in their sights, or whether they will choose to join another network such as Crypto or Prima?