So, apparently, December 21, 2012 is the 'official' end of days. The predictions of the great seer (or mushroom lover) Nostradamus seem to tie in uncannily with the Mayan calendar deadline, Bible prophecies, predictions of the ancient Egyptians and other theories such as the Age of Aquarius and the mysterious planet Nibiru. Is it wrong that a part of me is thinking it's not such a bad thing? We really are living in a world where the swelling population is taught to 'look out for number one', first and foremost. This logic, whilst seemingly sound advice, has apparently extended to: 'Look out for number one, and if you can't, see to it that you do at the detriment of others.’
I read a news article the other day that just made me sick to the stomach and, quite frankly, downright depressed. A lady in her late seventies was attacked by two teenage animals believed to be fourteen and seventeen years of age. They were trying to steal her handbag. She put up a fight. They beat her to the ground. She tried with the last breaths of her life to hold onto her handbag, to the point that part of the bag was still clutched in her hand as the attackers made off with their 'loot' and left her to die in an alleyway; and die she did.
The bag had contained the ashes of her husband, who had been dead for seventeen years. She would carry them with her wherever she went because she couldn't bear to be without him. I know stories of attacks on the vulnerable are not uncommon and this one in particular has extra impact because of its nature, but all that aside, where do you find that level of devotion to a loved one in this day and age? A love so pure and uninfluenced by motivation is as rare these days as an English Prime Minister who actually has a clue what he's doing with the country.
Look at the looting and riots in London! As I watched those scenes on T.V., I was absolutely stunned speechless. Was this really the behaviour of people who live in a so-called civilised country? No - this was the behaviour of the prehistoric; a debacle that might easily have been mistaken for a Philip Zimbardo-esque social experiment.
The world has become such that many are just living in desperate times, and it's these such times that make me, on the one hand, thank the Powers That Be for having such a relatively easy life; yet, on the other hand, be wracked with guilt that others are much less fortunate than me yet no less deserving of a more comfortable existence.
Life is strange.
So, enough of the preamble; my moaning isn't going to change the world. Let’s talk about what I've been up to the last couple of months.
I covered most of my and my brothers' latest shenanigans in Mexico in my last blog. Cutting a long story short, both of us starting running worse than a showerhead at a filthy roadside motel, as far as online poker was concerned. He decided to join me for a week in Vegas to round off my visit before I returned to sunny England.
I had a strong gut feeling about the Cæsar's Palace $1,000 Main Rvent and felt I was going to do really well. I think I played well throughout, especially towards the end when I found myself on tables with the likes of Steve Billirakis and Eric Baldwin. I didn't make many mistakes, which was the main thing. I lost a big pot with K-Q all in preflop versus T-T after my flopped queen was rivered with a two-outer to bust in 15th place for $5,600. The event was being filmed for Italian TV, bizarrely, and I got some TV time with the Black Belt Poker patches on, so if I manage to get a handful of Italians to subconsciously open an account and play on the site, that has to count as added equity.
We considered briefly the idea of hanging around in Vegas to watch the Pacquiao fight at the MGM then decided that unless we went ringside we would have a better time watching it on TV with a few beers in hand. David Copperfield (or 'Copperfraud', as we lovingly referred to him as), the master illusionist, had already made a few hundred dollars disappear into thin air the night before and we were damned if we were going to let Pacquiao do the same with a few thousand. Vegas was actually pretty cold anyway; I even had to wear a jacket out in the evenings, so I didn't mind getting out of there.
Halloween 'costume parties' in Mexico are quite fun in that you literally dress as anything you wish; it doesn't have to be based around the traditional theme of ghosts and witches. I spent my last couple of nights in Mexico drinking tequila as Buzz Lightyear and champagne as Spiderman.
One of the events I was looking forward to all year was the APPT Macau. I originally planned to fly there straight after Black Belt Nottingham Live, but a combination of my current bad form and the fact that I was so tired of spending so many hours travelling made me decide otherwise.
Nottingham itself was a good laugh. I decided to play Day 1b but came up early with Eb the day before as I was also hosting the Going Live Dojo Session. Eb was playing Day 1a and my friend Dan Edler busted a few hours in, so we both went in search of other avenues of amusement. Dan and I won a four-way heads-up match of Rock, Paper, Scissors against Dan’s friend and Adam 'The Hobbit' Saunders, who unfortunately finished in last place. His forfeit was to place £20 into the nearest roulette machine and Dan and I, the victors, would choose a number each, the proceeds of which would go toward the days Jaeger fund. Naturally, my selection of 33 black spun straight in and we collected £380 to get off to a good start.
I started off easy as I thought it best I be sober for the Dojo Session, which went well. A couple of people told me the next day that some tells/tips I gave them really helped in a few spots, and a boyfriend/girlfriend combo that came along and were playing a £50 side event straight after both made the final table. I thank you; see my agent for bookings.
Anyway. Where were we? Ah, yes. I left Dan with the Jaeger fund and played a cash game that looked fun and lively. One of those two decisions was a mistake, and for those who know Dan Edler, they’ll be aware that leaving him with a pocket full of drinking tokens is as wise as hiring a squirrel to head up operations at a KP nut factory.
Within a few hours he had filled himself with nigh-on three hundred pounds worth of unleaded fuel from the DTD bar and was politely asked to leave the building. He did just that, but to his credit, he didn't go to the hotel and crash as Eb and I suspected he would; he was up and ready to continue the shenanigans into the early hours after play finished on Day 1a. Eb bagged up just under average chips and after deciphering Edler’s directions over the phone, we met up to continue pumping our veins with Jaeger.
The rest is a blur.
Click to read Part Two...