The Uncool

I need to start thinking about my health.

Before I’d had breakfast this morning I was already smoking. On the way to the train at 11.30am I was on my second smoke, second coffee and second diet coke. Today will include probably another dozen or so diet cokes which at least half a dozen coffees. At some point, I’ll feel righteous, or sick, and order tea. In between all this I’ll be heading for the gents at regular 15 minute breaks. By the end of the day I’ll feel sick, awake, and my mouth will taste like a Bengal sewer. This is the good life. We live for this.

I’m still thinking about yesterday and the final table. I said I set out not to make myself look like an idiot – that if I went out I would go out with the best of it. But really when you start out saying “I just don’t want to look stupid” you’re asking for trouble and lumping yourself in with the uncool. I am uncool, proudly so bubba, but that sometimes pisses me off sometimes.

I have a cool job. There can’t be more than half a dozen people in the UK paid to do what I do specifically. But then again there are even less people who know what I do specifically. I struggle myself. That nonsense aside the poker world runs on cool. And if you’re not part of that you’re on the outside looking in.

I can work like that. Only sometimes you need someone on the inside to open a window for you to get a peek and report back to the uncool crowd waiting outside in jumpers and cardigans. And I don’t have many links to the people inside.

But enough of that. Where was I? It’s the Showdown Poker Tour Main Event today. The first of its kind which may not even have players in it. But they’re setting up anyway and we’re here to tell the world that all is well. The appearance of calm.