The day before Christmas
The day before the Irish open for a poker player always feels a bit like the day before Christmas when you were a kid. I was going into this year‘s Irish open feeling good about my game and in shape, as one of the book his favourites. That lasted until just before 4 pm that day, when I jumped up quickly from my desk and turned, intending to go for a run. I caught my trailing leg on some furniture and went flying awkward through the air. I landed semi side on, and instantly felt a crack in my left shoulder. Realising I couldn’t stand up, I rolled onto my back, pulled down a cushion from the sofa for my head, and then I did the thing that any totally normal person would do in the situation.
I took a selfie.
I posted it on Instagram. Next, I sent David Lappin a message saying I wouldn’t be able to promote the Chip Race podcast free roll Irish Open satellite on Paddy Power Poker that night. I then got a phone call from a friend in New York, who had seen my Instagram story, and wanted to know if I’d actually fallen over or if it was a joke. After assuring her it was real, she asked me if I had called an ambulance. At this point I realised that was probably a good idea, and rang 911.
I then spent the next 90 minutes on the floor waiting for an ambulance that never came. Luckily, my wife arrived home so I was no longer alone in the house. With help from our lodger, she was able to get me to the car, and drive me to the hospital.
Once there, they handled me very efficiently. I was being x-rayed within five or ten minutes to confirm that no bones were broken, then about 10 minutes later was having my shoulder relocated by an Iranian doctor, and then 10 minutes later was being x-rayed again to make sure it had been relocated properly.
Nothing broken, just a few bruised ribs and a dislocated now relocated shoulder, so as I hobble to the car with my wife, I did what any totally normal person would do. I asked myself
“ I wonder what time the late reg on that satellite closes?”
I registered it on my phone with my bad hand (I’m left-handed and with the left shoulder being the dislocated one my left arm was in a sling), and proceeded to win my 29th Irish open satellite this year.
Mistaken identity
Early in my poker career, I was mistaken a few times for Marcel Luske, presumably because we both wore a suit at the time when playing, and were approximately the same age. In Vegas, I’ve been mistaken far or at least compared to Devilfish a few times. I don’t really see that one, but others do. However, on my first day at the Irish open, I was mistaken for somebody I could never have dreamed I’d be mistaken for.
It was in the one day mystery bounty, and I was chatting to an amiable Irish man. Peter Roche is a bit of a legend in Irish poker circles, but in many ways is my polar opposite. He’s mainly PLO, I mainly play no limit Holdem. I’m a tournament player, he mainly plays cash. I play mostly online, he’s a live player. As such, our paths have never really crossed, so neither of us knew who we were speaking to.
At least until the following conversation happened:
“ How are you enjoying Ireland?”
“ Huh?”
“ You’re Faraz Jaka, right?”
“ What?”
“ You’re here taking part in that coach challenge against Dara O’Kearney, right?”
“ No, I’m Dara O’Kearney”
“But the other guy in the photos looks more Irish than you”
It’s at this point I realise the misunderstanding. Peter has seen the photographs taken to promote the Battle of the Coaches with Michael Dwyer deputising for Faraz Jaka in his absence. Not unreasonably, Peter Roche and probably many others have assumed that one of the two of us is Faraz, and I guess in my colourful shirt, I look a bit more Farazzy than Michael.
Scores on the doors
I did seven bullets in the 1K mystery bounty without finding a bag. I did another one in a 1K, getting through day one with a decent stack but lasting only three hands on day two. I then did seven bullets in the main event before I finally bagged. As the unsuccessful bullets mounted up, most people who asked me seemed to find it hilarious that the person with the most bullets was firing them in such spectacularly unsuccessful fashion. Even I have to admit it is kinda funny, objectively.
Day two of the main event started well for me, and I chipped up but then lost two 70/30s to bust a couple of hundred spots from the money.
I fired four bullets at the €250 mini main, which I cashed for €1470. I’m max late registered the €3000 high roller, and played the €350 triathlon, which I cashed for €1100. So
Total Buyins: €20,450
Total cashes: €2570
Net loss: €17,880
I bought into all these events using online satellite tickets, which led some players to tell me I was “freerolling”. That’s not really the way I see it: I still see it as a loss of almost €18,000 just as much as if I’ve actually paid in with cash. The fact that I made a profit of almost €30,000 in satellites obviously cushions the blow, but all of those profits are still locked up in the form of Stars tickets that have to be used at live events. I also swapped and bought pieces of others profitably this Irish open to make a dent on my own losses.
While obviously not happy with the results, I was very happy overall with my level of play. I don’t think I allowed my injury to affect my play, other than making me very awkward handling cards and chips. I didn’t take a single day off during the festival, and mostly played very long days, so I was satisfied with my stamina at this point in my career and life. It is important however to pace yourself over a long festival, and I stuck to my no alcohol until the playing is done rule, made a point of eating healthy, and getting as much sleep as I could. I was still pretty shattered by the end of the festival, but happy that I essentially emptied the tank.
Battle of the coaches
At this year‘s open, there was a loose team competition between my training site Simplify Poker and Jaka coaching. We ended up losing quite heavily on the official points total, although I would still argue we had the more successful festival overall. We had three big results:
- The main event (Michael Prendergast, 14th for €27710)
- The Spraggy mystery bounty (Baris Topuz chopped for €37590)
- Liam Flood turbo (Cenk Nigbolu 1st for €19460)
However, because our team had far more members than theirs, none of these actually counted for points: had even one of them counted for points we would’ve won but congratulations to Michael Dwyer and his team on their victory. Our team members seemed to enjoy the competition and camaraderie and this is something I could see expanded in future with the inclusion of more teams.
Commentary
I squeezed in a few spots in the commentary booth. In my time in there, I was very impressed by the play of Daryl McAleenan. To my mind, Daryl is the consummate live professional grinder. He’s been getting bigger and bigger results in recent years, and set a new high score with his five way chop for over a quarter of a million euros. I was genuinely thrilled for Daryl, and we will be talking to him more about his result in a forthcoming episode of the Chip Race.
I was also impressed by the play of a player I hadn’t seen before, Edward Dunphy. Edward stopped me at one point to say he’d satellited in for not very much after reading and consuming my satellite content. This was a common message I heard over the festival, and it’s always gratifying to hear in person how much impact the books and courses have had. Edward impressed me with his composure on the big stage, particularly after he admitted to me just how inexperienced he was.
Update: John Farrell broke my shoulder
I’m finishing this blog in the Outpatients department of James Connolly hospital, where an X-ray has just confirmed that although there was no break at the time, there is now a small crack on my shoulder bone which will take at least 6 weeks to mend, and is causing a fair degree of pain. The main thing I learned at this year’s Open is that poker players as a whole are shoulder grabbers and punchers. I never twigged that this was a traditional method of greeting, at least in the case of muck savages like John Farrell from primitive places like Longford.
While a great number of people touched, grabbed or even gently punched the shoulder (despite it being in a sling) by way of greeting, I’m pretty sure John the one responsible for the crack, as he followed up a particularly vigorous punch with an even more vigorous “you’re grand, you’re grand” grab and squeeze after I screamed in agony, which drew a “What the Hell is wrong with you?” from my American neighbour at the table who didn’t even know either of us.
Best open ever
The Irish Open seems to go from strength to strength every year, and in my opinion this was the best ever. One of the reasons for this I believe is that JP and Paul are always looking to improve, and willing to listen to constructive criticism. For example, the toilets while not exactly luxurious were a considerable improvement on previous years.
The only substantive criticism I heard this year was raised by Dr Kamikaze on Twitter about the ventilation. I have to admit a few times I felt very drowsy, and wondered whether it was a side-effect of my injury, but it seems the carbon dioxide levels were quite high when the ventilation was off. Every so often the ventilation would come on and I would immediately feel refreshed. I spoke to JP about it afterwards, and he said it was something that was within the control of the venue rather than them as organisers, but promised to see what could be done to improve it next year.
A lot of the dealers were new to me, and I heard that the event suffered from a lot of dealers heading to Prague for WSOPE instead, but with very few exceptions the standard of dealing was top-notch. The registration staff the floor staff and everyone else were also all top class. Special shout out to Ramona Bruza, who I genuinely believe to be the best tournament director in the world, in particular when it comes to handling frenetic bubbles. I had sung her praises to David Lappin in the past, and he saw himself just how impressive she is whether she’s telling Tomas Flanagan she’s going to make him do 10 push-ups if she catches him vaping again, or spotting somebody trying to duck the blinds eight tables away. Ramona is always at the top of her game and can diffuse tense situations with a combination of her firm authority and biting Baltic wit.
Perspective
As I walked in on the last day with Benjamin Spragg, I heard someone calling my name. I quickly localised it to an older gentleman in a wheelchair. He stood up to give me a hug, and seemed very excited to see me, which is always flattering to my ego. He said he was a big fan of the podcast and the books, and then went on to say his name was Seamus and he had a brain tumour and 8 weeks to live. I was taken aback by his openness and incredible courage: something I'm pretty sure I couldn't match in his shoes. I had no idea how to react appropriately to that, so went with giving him another hug and thanking him before heading on my way. The frenetic nature of poker festivals means while you meet a lot of people, you rarely get to spend as much time as you’d like with them. I never felt this more keenly than at this moment as I rushed back for my restart. My friend Katie Swift said at the end of the festival that she goes into every event with an unrealistic expectation of being able to catch up fully with everyone, but it’s never actually possible. I very much feel the same.
As I lay on the floor in my house the day before the Irish Open starting to come to terms with the fact I’d dislocated my shoulder, I thought the next few weeks or months of my life are really gonna suck. No running, constant pain, no who knows what else. As I came in to the last day of the festival still cashless (my two cashes both came on the last day), I was also feeling a little sorry for myself on the poker front. Meeting Seamus quickly washed all that away and reminded me how insignificant short term variance is in the big scheme of things. Most years I lose money at the Open. That’s just the way tournaments work: rare big scores that (hopefully) more than wipe out otherwise almost permanent downswings. Some years early in my career, these felt and maybe were career threatening. As my career stabilised this was no longer true, but a bad Open could seriously dent my annual profits. These days, with much more diverse income streams coming from sponsorships, coaching, writing and content creation, this is even less the case. I’m extremely lucky to have reached such a position in such a precarious profession, and I’m very thankful for that and for all who have helped me achieve it. I’m also extremely grateful that in all likelihood I can look forward to not just next year’s Irish Open, but many more to come. My main goal is to try to keep improving at least as fast as my opposition and to remain competitive for as long as I can. I’m lucky enough to be in very good health overall for my age, and I’ll try not to break or dislocate anything on the run up to next year’s Open!
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