The dealer is very friendly as he tells us the standard rules and the extra TV table rules. As an avid follower of the 'You are the Tournament Director' (YATTD) series on The Hendon Mob forum (http://www.thehendonmob.com/tournament_director5/) I listen very carefully. The dealer stresses most the new crackdown on acting out of turn: automatic two hand penalty. The main rule different for the TV table is there is no use of phones or other devices while seated at the table. He also says each player must be at their seat before the first card is dealt. I clarify "In the seat or at the seat?" He answers "At your seat." Most of the other players, all of whom seem like old hands at this to me, just continue what they're doing and occasionally nod as the dealer speaks. They remind me of airline passengers pfaffing about while the flight attendants go through their safety spiel.
Jac Arama is the first to act out of turn. He only mildly protests the penalty. He also walks all over me and my scared chips. He's in every pot and takes most of them down quickly enough as evidenced by his growing stacks of ante chips. He's quite good fun, though I feel like a cartoon character - the clueless runty dog who keeps smiling and slavering 'yeah, yeah, yeah, yes sir Ace!' while the smiling St. Bernard takes all his food.
Inside me the panic tide is rising though. I still haven't adjusted to being where I am. Early on I stepped away from the table to text my mate Nat back in Ireland "AUGH! I'm on the fucking TV table!!!". She sent reassuring messages back: "You know I don't understand poker but you look like you belong there." and from my favorite 2 year old, her baby girl Aoife, "What's Aunty D doing??". Really, what was I doing? Just being the haddock at the table. Throughout this early bit I've had several visits from the brilliant Mob group- speaking very supportive words and trying to focus me. Joe Beevers came by and said, "You can do this. Just pretend you're playing the league." Bogus (Mob forum royalty to me) got eye to eye with me and said much the same with equal certainty. I knew what they meant and I knew they were right, but my mind had gone mutiny on the bounty - it shouted: "But I'm sucking in the league right now!!!"
But as the first break nears, I get Joe and Bogus' and what feels like the whole Hendon Mob forum's feet under me. I know I should've been able to stand on my own two, but my sea legs having gone missing in action, I was glad to have theirs. Last hand before the break I'm in late position and look at AJ suited. I open 3x. Jac Arama re-raises. I dig their feet in and 3bet. Jac folds and starts gathering his things for the break, chatting away to me as if it's just another day.
I'm deaf to all he says. I go semi-hysterical inside at this monumental moment and race away from the table to please god make the ladies room before I burst into tears. Steps from that refuge I run smack into Danny (AKhater on the forum). Literally run smack into him. He asks "Hey, how's it going?" I duly burst into those tears, apologize, explain that I actually won the last hand, but it's just too much, bit overwhelmed ha ha. Ugh. He's very kind, mutters sincere words of comfort and leaves me to compose myself in the skirt room.
I splash cold water on my wrists and laugh into my tear-stained face in the mirror. (This is the only time I'm grateful there are so few women playing poker as the ladies room is deserted.) I'm mocking myself picturing Joe Beevers, Barny Boatman, Phil Ivey, Phil Galfond, ANY of the poker players I admire as they run tearfully from a card room- having won a hand no less. Fucksakes, I can't even picture the most-likely-to-cry-of-the-poker-players-I-admire Victoria Coren being the mess I am now. Gradually I'm more laughing than crying and the hysteria ebbs away.
I go downstairs to meet the lads on the pavement of Shaftsbury Avenue. Most smoking, some actually getting fresh air. We catch up with how everyone's doing. Leon (X on the forum http://xpokerdiary.blogspot.com/), Danny (AKhater) with Monty (Pizzicato) and Ian (Brodders) in there too. I'm really settling down now. We talk about the harshness of Darren (darrensprengers) being stuck at the awkward side tables of the tournament at another site. We wonder where StowJon is. I'm feeling more like a poker player again. As we walk back upstairs we chat about how I'm bound to be moved because the TV table normally breaks every break.
No such luck.
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