Happy 7th birthday Warming Up.
It is seven years since I saw
that couple drinking Special Brew on the train.
It's six years since
I was called a mindless wanker.
It's five years since
the feckless fools of 2004 were amazed at the prospect of wi-fi in a public building.
It's four years since
George Best died.
It's three years since
I annoyed a taxi driver in a petrol station.
It's two years since I
nearly got in a fight with a Liverpudlian in Brighton. Those Liverpudlians track me down to wherever I am. They are like my Cylons. Some of them even look human these days.
It's a year since I pretended to be
a representative of Spun K Productions. What a full and busy life I have led. It would have been an interesting game to see if someone had given me the entries and seen if I could have put them in order. I am not entirely sure I'd have been able to (apart from the fact that each of them does say which number anniversary we are sharing). From now on I might just make every new entry a retrospective on what I was doing on this day for the last seven years. My life marked out in mundane incidents.
It is no years since I played poker with my friends. Because that is what I did this evening (after a day largely taken up with BSG and Countdown - I've got nothing for AIOTM yet. Nothing!). It's been a while since I've had a home game and so it was annoying when I was knocked out of game 1 in the first fifteen minutes after trying to carry off an audacious half-bluff. It would take well over an hour before this match would be resolved, so I went upstairs to watch more Battlestar. I think people thought I was sulking. But I wasn't. Not yet. It had been my own fault that I'd got knocked out and my opponent Jane had made a brave call (though had a better hand than I put her on).
I started drinking to help pass the time and was quickly drunk.
The second game came along eventually and another player had arrived. So there were 10 of us battling it out for the money. I was pretty sure I wouldn't be going out first this time, especially when I won a tidy little pot with my pocket pair of Aces. I was astonished to look at my cards on the very next hand to discover I had got pocket Aces again. No one would believe it and they'd think I was bullying them if I went in big, so I did exactly that. I got called and when a raggedy flop came down I called my opponent's all in. His 7 and 8 of clubs had garnered him a pair of 7s, and there was only one club on the board. He was way behind. Needing a 7 or a runner runner to make a straight or a flush. I was going to be unbeatable with this amount of chips. A club came down. And then another one. I had improbably lost the hand and two of the girls at the other end of the table actually cheered and applauded as the bad beat came good. A little drunk and somewhat stung by my bad luck (I wasn't out yet, but had only a few chips left and looked set to go out first again) found this incredibly rude of them. I knew they were only caught up in the excitement of it all, but to cheer my loss (especially after I had gone out so early the last time) seemed a little churlish, given I was also hosting the event. I was, I am afraid, a little bit rude to them in return and although I was mainly just joking, it didn't quite come out like that, mainly because of my disappointment of a second lost game and the prospect of waiting for another hour to get some play. I bided my time and went all in when I hit a straight on the flop. I had a 7 and 8 to make 7,8,9, 10, J and was aware that there was a chance that someone might get lucky and hit the higher end or the heart flush draw might defeat me. As it happened four hearts came down on the board, but no one had one in their hand. It seemed like I was back in the game, except that one of my opponents had had 8 Q and thus defeated me with the higher straight that I had feared. I was out first again. 10th out of 10 this time.
A long wait and more wine and more BSG and I was going to get another chance to play. But luck was not with me. My AK was beaten by AQ with two Qs on the flop and then I went all in with a pocket pair of queens only to come up against a pair of Aces (from one of the girls who had cheered my demise in the earlier game with the hand she now had). This time there were only 7 players, but I had come 7th. I don't think I have ever had a night like this. Out first three times in a row, with so many opponents and only one of the times had I done anything wrong. I hadn't even got wreckless or played angrily. Although I was now quite pissed off. And went to watch TV, drunk and petulant now. And feeling bad about having acted so rudely, even with the provocation that I'd had. I was being a bad loser, but it was mainly because I had been so looking forward to playing some poker and had had so little opportunity to do so.
I am nothing if not a stupid twat though and it's not nice to be reminded of this. I hoped I hadn't ruined anyone else's evening, even if I had managed to make my own a little miserable (but had at least got a little further into BSG as a result).
Unusually though four of my guests wanted to stay for a fourth game, even though it was already about 1am. It had been a particularly boozy evening and some of us didn't want it to stop. So I had one more chance to play. And despite my crapulousness I played well and the cards went my way. I don't remember much about it now, but I managed not only to avoid going out first, but to hit some nice cards and won the game easily when we got to heads up with an AK of diamonds. I had won £25 and spent only £20. Somehow, after one of my most awful nights of poker ever I had come out five pounds up. But as one of my fellows jokily, but truthfully remarked I might have won some money, but had lost the respect of all my friends with my childish actions.
Still five pounds though.
Can't wait to recap on this year's entry this time next year. If I am still here to write about it. Which if I keep drinking red wine in these quantities I probably won't be.
