Read Part Four...
“I’m going to come in to Tom Jones, Sex Bomb,” rejoiced Roberto Romanello in that Welsh twang that always makes me think of Gavin and Stacey. “For a little bit of fun, but also because he’s Welsh. Thought it’d put an atmosphere out there.”
We were past the half way mark and Les A was hustle and bustle, a stark contrast to the deserted room and passing tumbleweed that greeted me upon arrival 12 hours earlier. Romanello was one of the handful of players itching to get involved: “As you know, I’m a tournament player, but I enjoy the big cash games now and again. I will adjust for the game knowing that people can reload, and I’ll have that in mind. The game is a lot different.”
At this point, Neil Channing was a near £30,000 up, so I asked Romanello if he’d be looking to avoid any of the other players. “I never really think that or worry about other players,” he replied confidently. “You’ve got to play hard against all players, and if I get a hand, I’ll play hard. I’m not looking to avoid anyone in particular, and I don’t want to say that I’m going to target someone just yet. I’ll just see how the table plays, how it pans out, and just go with the game, how I’m feeling, who I’m going to make a move on, whatever. I’m not too fussy about which seat I get, but by the looks of it, I think I’ll have position on Channing, which is always good.”
“I’ve played with a few of them,” he continued, “tournaments and cash games. I played the Big Game last year and I was a winner, so I’m looking forward to it and will try hard to come out a winner twice in a row, that’d be nice. I've virtually played everyone except this American fella here [Viffer], so I’ve got experience with most of the players. I don’t know how long I’m going to play for, will see how it goes. I haven’t really planned anything. I may go broke straight away, but if I get chipped up I’ll probably stay as long as they want me to. Hopefully I’ll last longer than half an hour and then I’ll be on my way and looking to press the game. I’d like to stay a long time.”
Thinking back to players like Paul Zimbler and Sam Trickett, who I sensed were playing from a lighter bankroll than players like Isaac Haxton and Ellis Reuben, I wondered whether Romanello would sit down with a rebuy behind, or just play the full £20,000. “Actually, I’ll probably sit down with the max,” he answered, “and then if I lose that, just leave it. It won’t be the end of the world; I have some big tournaments coming up that I can still look forward to such as San Remo, Monte Carlo, and then onto France for the Grand Prix. Then it goes on from there: Budapest, play a small tournament for Full Tilt, and then I’ll be off to Vegas, so I have a big schedule ahead of me. I don’t have to go too crazy in this game. I’m just taking a shot, and if it doesn’t work out, well, there’s so much other poker ahead. If I win, then I go into those tournaments with some confidence, which is always good.”
I’m sure I saw two flops at one stage. Then again, it was the tail end of the game and I wasn’t the only one hallucinating. Jesse May was going quite insane. There were moments where he’d say something completely nonsensical, or start mumbling gibberish to himself during a hand. Like the Exorcist girl, he would speak in tongues and start cackling uncontrollably to things that weren’t funny. At one point, he placed the Kermit the Frog mask on his head and threatened to walk into the arena. “I can’t remember what happened over the last hour,” he announced honestly with Ernie McCracken hair. “I think you just asked Barny about the dealer button, Jesse,” I replied.
The Big Game was like a Japanese endurance test, and, despite his occasional lapses, Jesse was the perfect contestant. Somehow, and even when his eyelids felt like lead, he was able to offer commentary and analysis on every hand, and maintain that ‘big night’ feel that he gives to each and every show. It gave me a newfound respect for the man, and the job he does. The key to his success? Well, according to the items on the table: deodorant, Strepsils, energy pills, and a packet of Polos.
At the table, the players were also feeling the effects of an almost Big Brother like existence. Channing was becoming rather snappy. The whole TV process and the painful pace of play were really getting to him and I fear he may have tilted off several thousand trying moves he wouldn’t normally make if here were enjoying a top bill of health. By the 48th hour, the karate outfit that he skipped into the room with now felt more like a dressing gown as he yawned his way through the final minutes. “I might wear shorts and vest when I play at home, maybe even my underwear,” confessed Dusty Schmidt in the commentary booth, “but I never thought I’d go into live poker and see people wearing even crazier outfits. Neil’s impressed me overall, though. He’s solid, but has a few tricks. He plays a similar style to me.”
Phil Laak was unusually quiet. He started off as his normal, charismatic self, but by the end he was understandably energy-sapped, and spent the final break sprawled across the floor with his woolly hat pulled over his eyes. If there was one hand, however, that would wake him up, it was his encounter with David ‘Viffer’ Peat. Having raised to £225 preflop with 8h-7h preflop, Laak called a reraise to £1,200 from Viffer with As-Ac leading to a Td-2c-8c flop. Viffer continuation bet for £1,000, and Laak called. The 8s turn didn’t slow him down, Viffer leading again, this time to the value of £5,000. Laak flat called. On the 7d river, Viffer bet £9,000, only for Laak to put one column of yellow chips on top of another, pause, and then push his chips across the line, his stack crumbling as it slid across the felt.
“Motherfucker,” came the knee-jerk response. “God, you’re so dumb, I don’t know what to do.” Viffer sunk his head into his hands, proving that even the wealthiest of pros can squirm in their seat like a three-legged ferret when faced with a nightmare decision. “God, this is gonna hurt. It’s gonna hurt no matter what. It’s a no win situation. Fuck my life. This is fucking insane. Why did I bet this?” Viffer stared his foe down as if he’d broken into his house and urinated on his carpet. “I have two aces, just to let you know. If I call, will you give me a job at Unabomber Poker?” In the end, Viffer finally made a decision, saying “Can someone tell me the direction to the bathroom so I can change my tampon?” before making the most reluctant of folds. He later returned to the table with a sign reading ‘Phil’s Bitch’ hanging around his neck.
Viffer was without doubt the most entertaining player at the table and perfect fodder for the TV cameras. Not only did he wear his heart on his sleeve, words slipping out his mouth as it were a home game rather than a national broadcast, but he played an aggressive, unpredictable style that made it difficult to put him on a hand. “Playing Viffer was incredible,” reported Dusty Schmidt. “I’ve never seen someone put £10,000 into a £300 pot.” It was obvious that like many of the game’s most successful degenerates, Viffer had a blatant disregard for money, or had gambled so much previously that moving all in for £10,000 didn’t irk him in the slightest.
What’s Viffer’s aggressive style perhaps masked was a great desire to reach the end of the 48 hours. In fact, Viffer was, officially, the only player to achieve that feat, as Laak had entered the game several hours in, and Channing had been evicted for 30 minutes. Nevertheless, Viffer was more awake than most, and from the first to the last hour, was continually in pots, his stack fluctuating relentlessly before finishing on an impressive £147,275 profit, despite losing with set over set versus Channing who spiked quads on the river.
As the final hands were squeezed out like the final toothpaste in the tube, you could see a slight desperation on the faces of those who were stuck. Channing, however, and despite having been awake for the last 48 hours, was able to muster enough discipline to fold As-Ts to M B Mahmood’s Jc-Th on a Jh-7d-4h-Tc board. It would have been easy to chase, but Channing knew he was behind, and was able to let it go, although it must have hurt. He’d played virtually every minute of those 48 hours, and I’m sure he would have killed to have finished in profit.
As for Romanello, he had since departed from the game, his £20,000 finding its way over to Tony G on the river of a Ts-6h-Ks-7h-7s board, the Gster eeking out a flush with 4s-2s versus Jc-Jd after raising the turn. Romanello was understandably disappointed, and as the room cleared and the stage disassembled, he sat slumped on a sofa as he browsed the Net. “I think not having a rebuy in me affected the way I played a bit,” he confessed dejectedly. “There was one hand where I was close to calling with ace high, which if I had done, would have won me the pot. But it’s possible not having that money behind convinced me to fold. I think next time I'll look to bring a rebuy with me.”
I thoroughly enjoyed my time at the Big Game, although it reminded me of how deceptive the poker world can be. From joining Jesse in a cramped kitchen, to having access to the hole cards and realising how much is left on the editing room floor, it was a real eye-opening experience, and one that I won’t forget in a hurry. What was perhaps most revealing, however, was understanding just how big this game is. When we watch shows like the Big Game, High Stakes Poker, and so on, we immediately assume that the players involved can afford to play. The truth is that many of them are backed, have borrowed money, are playing with their case money, or/and, in the case of Romanello, playing without rebuy behind. Like most of the tournaments on the circuit, half the field can’t really afford to play, it’s just that they’re more degenerate than the other half, more hungry for success, and more willing to take that shot.
Part One: Room With a View
Part Two: Straddle-Gate
Part Three: A Dusty Road
Part Four: "Ask Me in 20 Years"
Also See:
Return To Les A - Part One: Do Not Pass Go
Return to Les A - Part Two: Same Game, Different Location
Return to Les A - Part Three: Rich in History
Return to Les A - Part Four: The Next Best Thing
Return to Les A - Part Five: With This Tournament You Are Really Spoiling Us
Les Ambassadurrrrs – Day One
Les Ambassadurrrrs – Day Two
Les Ambassadurrrrs – Day Three