Tough poker playing conditions

A slight departure from my usual rantings, I'd like to tell you about my experiences last ngiht which were pretty bizarre. I've played live poker against some very good players. I remember feeling Dave colclough's icy stare as i made a bet in barcelona and Willie Tann's cool nonchalance as he pushed all his chips in the middle against me at the vic. Last night was perhaps the greatest test of my poker concentration though!!

Let me fill you in.

I am in Brighton at the moment, residing in a hotel as i scout the area for a convenient flat to rent. I have stayed here quite a few times and it has always struck me as a quiet, peaceful locale. When i'm here, if im not meeting up with friends in the evening, I usually camp out in the lobby with my laptop, using the free wireless internet access to make a few dollars playing poker.

Last night i was doing just that, enjoying a pint or two and chatting with the barmaid as I played a few 25$ stts. I managed to finish 3rd in one and was heads up in the 2nd one, when a loud group of scousers entered the bar and began drinking heavily. No probs i thought. I continued my game and one of the lads, named Terry began chatting to me. We swapped a few stories about Liverpool, the team we both supported and he demonstrated his cheeky scouse " native wit" as I observed he must've grown up with Ian Rush and Jan Molby, to which he replied, "ERRR No m8, i grooo oop with me mam and da!" and broke into a big liverpudlian giggle. I laughed along with him and it all seemed pretty relaxed.

Then the trouble began.

One of the group was with his girlfriend and they had both got pretty wasted and began a big barny. I was trying to concentrate on raising 74c in position so I left them too it, but their argument became increasingly more distracting. Before I knew it all seven of the group had bounded to their feet and had moved into the middle of the lobby, jabbing each other in the chest, calling each other "soft lad" a lot, and I even heard the classic "kerm down" uttered more than once.

One guy from a seperate group wandered over and asked them if they could keep it down a bit, a suggestion which was treated with contempt.

"Eh , we've paid for our rooooms same as youse soft lad. Keep yer nose outtaf it m8"

He tried reasoning a little more but eventually decided it wasnt gonna get him anyway. I was still struggling heads up in my stt. Eventually the storm seemed to have passed as most of the group wandered upstairs and only two guys, one of them Terry, were left. They had plenty of fight left in the pair of them though and continued arguing dragging the "interferer", who i discovered was called Robin into the debate.

Eventually i managed to win my stt, and was able to concentrate harder on events in the hotel. Robin and Lee, the other scouser, were arguing drunkenly about whether on not he should've said anything about his bird etc etc......it was a classic booze-fuelled argument, heading nowhere and self-perpetuating. I did everything in my power to calm the situation down and managed to stop them coming to blows once or twice.

Eventually Robin went to bed and Lee followed after him, leaving me and Terry to discuss the plight of Liverpool's strike force. About 10 minutes later, Lee returned, sporting a number of cuts and bruises,

"Eh Terry, I gave that lad an 'iding, he ad it coomin"
(Groan)

Given the state of Lee, if he had given out the hiding, then Robin was going to be in pretty horendous shape. I went into the heart of the hotel to find him and discovered him in the hotel lift. It was not a pretty sight.

As the doors whirred open i saw Robin slumped on the floor, legs akimbo, barely consious, lying amidst at least 12 seperate pools of blood. His nose was broken and bleeding, he had several cuts to his forehead and had a couple of eyes that were destined to be turning black.

TBC....