There’s a myth in the industry that poker is open to everyone, an equal platform with no elitism. However, that’s not quite true. There are exclusive games scattered across the globe where businessmen and high profile pros play in backrooms for sums we couldn’t comprehend, where money talks and participants are required to be perched on a certain rung of the social ladder to play. London is no different, and whilst you have your Vics and your Empires, you also have places like Les Ambassadeurs, a lavish members only club, in which you have to be referred to join before paying an annual fee of £1,000. This was therefore, perhaps, the perfect location for poker’s elite to do battle in Matchroom's latest invention, the Full Tilt Poker Durrrr Million Dollar Challenge.
Not to be confused with his never-ending online escapades with Patrik Antonius, durrrr’s live challenge was initially scheduled to take place during the World Series of Poker Europe, but a slight lack of interest (there aren’t too many people queuing up to tackle durrrr at even odds) and a few logistical issues held up proceedings and the event was duly rescheduled. Sammy George was always keen, but with boisterous Finn Ilhari ‘Ziigmund’ Sahamies and the slightly less ostentatious Marcello ‘luckexpress10’ Marigliano now on board, it was game on with each player bringing a monstrous $500,000 to the table.
These highbrow surroundings may have been a suitable reflection of the stakes involved, but for little ol’ me, it formed foreign shores. I cut my teeth in the Gala Casino, Nottingham, where people blew smoke in your face, downed pints at the table, and gave you a threatening look if you check-raised. Here they sip champagne, don Armani suits and wear my annual salary on their wrist. I would, of course, be lying if I claimed never to have heard of Mayfair. It’s obviously that expensive purple square on the Monopoly board, and I was delighted to find there were multiple hotels, and not just one big red one.
As a member of the hoody generation, the words “smart dress code” are like sun to a vampire. I didn’t possess a single tie, but I unearthed my sole shirt that hadn’t been worn for nearly a decade. Alas, and despite my best efforts, I remained the scruffiest man there, and reception were so aghast that they ordered me to remove my jacket and tuck my shirt in. Minutes later, Nik Persaud bowled in wearing jeans, black trainers and morning hair. He could talk his way off death row, that guy.
Despite the occasion, there were few people present: Eddie Hearn, Beiju Patel, Jesse May, the camera crew, one, two journalists max. To the right was the casino boasting a smattering of high rollers, whilst opposite was a small room with a single table centrally positioned, specifically designed for a heads-up affair. Waiting patiently on the felt were two stacks of $250,000, made up of green ($500), orange ($1,000) and purple ($5,000) chips. With several columns each, it didn’t look like much, but it represented half a million dollars, and in just a few minutes time it would all be on the line.
Marcello Marigliano was the first to arrive. An enigma of sorts, little is known about him: he has just one notch on his Hendon Mob and any articles appear to be penned in Italian. But regardless of his lack of notoriety, he’s a big time sports bettor who has been playing high stakes for years and become a regular presence on the $300/600 tables on Full Tilt. He was everything I imagined him to be: sharply dressed in a black shirt, suit and sunglasses, amicable, and speaking with a strong Italian accent that would send my Mrs weak at the knees. He could easily have been a character in the Sopranos.
Soon after, durrrrr strode in, casually dressed in jeans and striped black/silver shirt, and yawning as if he’d just woken up. I felt bizarrely and inexplicably awkward knowing the amounts he’d lost of late, but judging by the way he approaches life, you’d think he didn’t have a care in the world. Instead, he greeted everyone in his familiar drawl, filmed a quick sequence walking down some stairs, and took his seat ready for kick-off.
The room itself was curious. Players played before a log fire with two plasma screens either side. The ceiling bore a gold trim with a Renaissance painting in the centre whilst Lynchian red lighting illuminated segments of the room. The atmosphere was quiet and tense, but gradually loosened up as durrrr probed his opponent with ice-breaking questions. “How come you don’t play on the American shows?” he inquired, raising the button and throwing in three one thousand chips as if they were Fruit Pastels. “I’m too busy and it’s too far for me,” replied the Italian with a warm smile. “I have a family.” What, a life outside poker, surely not!
With blinds set at $500/$1,000, the game of choice was No Limit Hold’em with players obliged to either go bust or reach the 500-hand target. Early doors, it was durrrr who edged his nose in front, taking the chip lead by around $50,000. Someone then noticed that he’d forgotten his Full Tilt patch, which triggered a hiatus in play as durrrr and Eddie frantically waited on the street for the courier to arrive. “Ah, it’s OK, we’ll just have to start again,” joked Marigliano. But it wasn’t necessary, as when play resumed, the Italian slowly but surely worked his way back into the game. A subsequent back and forth battle threatened a marathon encounter that had cameraman sweating anxiously, but out of the blue, serene fields exploded into a war zone as a circa $450k pot unexpectedly reared its lucrative head:
With Marigliano raising the button to 2,500, durrrr made his umpteenth three-bet to 10,000, which the Italian called. On the 3h-6s-8d- flop, durrrr led for 16,500, and Marigliano called. A 4d turn didn’t slow durrrr down; he bet again, this time to the tune of 35,500, and, again, Marigliano called. With the pot beginning to swell, the small crowd silenced and inched closer towards the table as the river was dealt: the 8s. After a brief pause, durrrr slid in a column of purple chips totalling $97,000, and without hesitation, Marigliano announced all in for what couldn’t have been too much more than $150,000.
Immediately durrrr laughed, questioned his timing, and threw K-Q into the muck. Marigliano proudly showed K-9, for a stonecold bluff. Durrrr was gob-smacked, he couldn’t believe it, and expressed his surprise by highlighting how little his opponent had behind. “You can’t call if you have $20,000,” said Marigliano, “I was always making the move, but I had to be quick, it’s was all about the timing.” “Nice hand, sir,” applauded durrrr sincerely. Marigliano turned to Sammy George who had recently entered the arena and asked, “Would you have played the hand the same way?” “Yeah,” replied George with a cheeky grin, “but he would have had quad eights when I did it.”
As if the ugly duckling pot hadn’t occurred, play continued as before: little in the way of action and with both players making light jabs here and there. After an hour of sparring, I decided to make my exit. I’d seen enough to entertain me for a few hours, and the match could essentially still go on for a long time. Day One of the Full Tilt Durrrr Million Dollar Challenge had been a genuine experience for me, but once the novelty of wearing my school shoes again and seeing durrrr play for a million had worn off, I was essentially standing on my feet watching two guys grind out a heads-up cash game. In the end, a grind is what it turned out to be, as Marigliano finished the day a few thousand in front. Not the firework display one would have hoped, but certainly enough to fill a two hour show.
Overall, I found the premise intriguing to say the least, and today the poker world offered me a new adventure, the opportunity to enter a part of the industry that is often clandestine. I was given a glimpse into the world of high stakes poker and exclusive casinos, and looked through a window that so many would love to climb through. As I brace myself for tomorrow’s potentially explosive encounter with Ziigmund, I still haven’t grasped the monies at stake. If durrrr defeats all his opponents, he could win what would take me 50 years of hard journalist graft to earn, and even then he’d still be down for the week. Then again, he could lose them all. As Jimmy Greaves once said, “It’s a funny old game.”
Tune in tomorrow as I recap durrrr's encounter with Finnish high stakes pro Ziigmund.