Adam Goulding poker column: A Sense of Nostalgia

Black Belt Poker's Adam Goulding is delighted to find that there are still a few square poker players around, even if he didn't win.

'Everyone's solid,' is a phrase I often hear these days. They obviously didn't play the London Calling event at the Fox Club.

In the opening level, one guy was pushed off a river and shown one card, in that teasing, slightly sadistic 'you might have been ahead, you might not' kind of way.

"You think this is funny?" he snapped.

The next hand, and with blinds at 25/50, he opened the guy's big blind for 3,500. Everyone folded and he showed a 7!

After a poor run of form recently, I take solace in the fact that the mentally insane are still allowed to enter poker tournaments.

The standard of poker has definitely increased in recent years, so it was a relief to see that some of the plays and comments I'd found so fruitful at the Gala Nottingham had survived a decade on. I experienced an overwhelming sense of nostalgia when I found myself agreeing with and comforting a guy who incorrectly claimed 'he couldn't get away from it', and I almost ejaculated when someone got 80 big blinds in preflop with pocket deuces. I even started bashing out clichés such as: "It's only ace high in the end," "You were right to fold; he would have hit," and, "Yeah, what can you do?" with the same concealed insincerity that I'd fine-tuned many moons ago.

Of course, the painful irony is that although this was the softest tournament I'd played in a long time, I was unable to turn my £300 investment into a small purse of gold, never mind a pot. Having grinded into Day 2 with 17 bigs, I managed to survive the opening three levels unscathed before (finally!) finding A-Q on the big blind. It was the first hand of the 800/1,600 level, and a doddery old man under the gun fumbled in 3,000 before being forced to make it 3,200.

The action folded around to the small blind who flat-called, allowing me to push all in for my final 18,500. The old fella hesitated before flat-calling (!) for half his stack and the small blind also flat-called (!!) for around a third of his stack. The K-K-x-x-x board was checked down and, after the small blind had mucked without barely even waiting to see if he was behind, UTG took it down with J-J. The standard was so poor that I didn't even stand up until I'd seen I was beat as I knew there was still a chance they had A-J and 7-6 suited or something.

Obviously, it's comforting to know that people have yet to master the nuances of the game, but, at the same time, it was still disappointing to have lost what I imagine was close to a coin flip for treble my stack on a table fishier than a hooker's crotch (Rory Liffey and Joe Beevers excluded).

One 'incident' that did cheer me up, however, was when some lady went bananas on Day 1A. According to my source, who was seated at the same table, she got all her chips in with a set which was duly raped by a runner-runner flush. She then proceeded to mount the table, crawl across the felt to her opponent and slap him in the face, only scraping initially, but making full contact on the way back. The kid sat there aghast, almost as if he’d just been Tangoed, whilst the lady remained planted on the table. After a minor kerfuffle, security escorted the woman-scorned away from the table, and I later heard that she received a six-month ban, not the lifetime one you might expect as I believe she is a regular contributor among the London casinos. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, especially if she’s a ‘good tipper’.

These moments don't occur very often these days - I recall scraps at the Gala, and even a known circuit player spitting in someone's face - so it was good to see they were making a return. My only regret is that I was seated at the other end of the room when it happened, otherwise I would have whipped out my mobile phone quicker than a cowboy at dawn. Everyone loves a good car crash, otherwise Anne Widdecomb would have foxtrotted out of the competition on the opening week and Gillian McKeefe wouldn’t be doing all the Bushtucker Trials.

I quite liked the Fox Club overall. It’s not the biggest venue, and food service would have been quicker if I’d slaughtered the cow myself, but they seem a friendly bunch and it’s in a great location with so many shops nearby. Also, if they don’t manage to lure enough fish off the streets, you can always head down the road to the Empire. I would suggest they change the decks though – the sideways kings look just like the jacks. You wouldn’t make that mistake in my deck at home – I’ve never mixed Chemical Ali up with Abdul Sattar.

The Vic has been tilting me recently; their organisation of the cash games can be abysmal at times. I was on the waiting list the other day, but I knew there’d be empty seat, so I had a quick peruse of the £1/2 tables. There were three empty seats, two on one table, and I still hadn’t been called! In the end, I lost patience and just took the seat. They called my name out 20 minutes later.

We seem so far behind Vegas in terms of running a cardroom; the process over there is just so much more proficient. It seems that the Vic do the first bit of calling people out, but then they don’t make sure the seats are filled so they just remain empty until someone complains. I think I can forgive them for that when there’s a festival on, though. What I think is unforgivable is when I approach the cardroom desk for help and there’ll be three guys behind the desk, all of whom will somehow fail to acknowledge I’m there – that’s just rude. The waitress service is dire as well. One guy during the tournament requested service, and the dealer just laughed. “You’ll be lucky,” said another player.

I hate to retell a tired cliché, but if DTD were in London, the Vic would have to pick up the pace. Only at DTD does the cardroom manager start collecting plates if the place gets busy.

On the flip side, I should perhaps consider myself fortunate that I have a choice of venue, and that there are numerous cash games to play. When I first started out, everything was Pot Limit, and the only game going was an uncapped £100 dealers-choice in which gambling games such as Badugi and Super Stud were the most popular choice. It was self-deal in a smoke-filled room, and you could never be sure that you weren’t being hustled by the ‘locals’. If you were suspicious, nobody would listen. Still, you might see a fight or two.

Adam Goulding writes a regular column for Black Belt Poker, the leading poker training and social networking site.