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#566 – London 2008 #73 – DON’T Call Me Mint Jelly
The Ignoble End of PayLamb.com
On the Lam … from Uncle Tilty
When All the Laughter Died in Sorrow
I Fear for Uncle Tilty’s Health … and My Own
“Put on Some Damn Pants!”
The Ignoble End of PayLamb.com
On the Lam … from Uncle Tilty
When All the Laughter Died in Sorrow
I Fear for Uncle Tilty’s Health … and My Own
“Put on Some Damn Pants!”
Howard busted at 3:03 AM in third place. I stuck around with Andy Bloch and Jennifer for a few awkward minutes. I couldn’t come up with anything to say to Howard but something lame, and said it anyway. I shook his hand and said, “It’s useless for me to even say, ‘you played well Howard’ because you played tremendously and it didn’t have a thing to do with the outcome.”
IMAGE 5
Howard Lederer in profile, still sitting at the table, still leaning slightly forward, a swirl of chips spread across the table. He looks so similar to the earlier images (and really, the later ones too) that the first impression is that you can’t tell anything about how the game is going by looking at his face.
IMAGE 4
This image is time-stamped in my notes at 12:57 AM. The communal cards in the center are 7s-Js-Td. Howard Lederer, with a chip stack of more than 600,000, leans forward in his chair, his face impassive. Ivo Donev has only a small stack of blue chips remaining and he jingles them in one hand.
IMAGE 3
The players have vacated the table. Only their stacks – both their armor and their ammunition – mark their places.
IMAGE 2
Howard Lederer, elegantly collecting his cards in Razz, flips them face down, and slides them, as one, to the dealer. There’s a certain look on his face – tired, resigned. Not disgusted or discouraged, but like he’s communicating, “I’ve got nothing … again,” as if that’s been the case thousands of times. And it has.
My notes of the final taqble, 58 pages covering 4 3/4 hours and 144 hands of short-handed poker, are mostly useless gibberish to me now. But among the wreckage are several jarring images – like photographs that look innocuous, until you learn the context.
It was a serpentine road that led me to this final table, even as an observer. as you know, I had played this event, and busted late on Monday night. I thought my effort was a valiant one, and unrewarded until I saw the coverage on Pokernews.com.
Wednesday night, in which they played the final table of the HORSE, was a proud night for Full Tilt, even if it didn’t have a happy ending. The first thing I noticed was the women. as we waited for the HORSE final four players to return from the dinner break (and for the PLO event to restart), the three hottest women in the Empire were former Pokerwire.com girls, all connected with Full Tilt in one or more ways.
My friend Melissa, the photographer whose boyfriend is Allen Cunningham, asked me to help her get together with Al Alvarez, famous English author, poet, and critic, and legendary in poker for writing THE BIGGEST GAME IN TOWN, the best book ever written about poker. I met Al last year through our mutual good friend Tony Holden (himself a famous English author, opera critic, and poker legend for penning BIG DEAL and, in 2007, BIGGER DEAL). I heard his health had declined but it was magical meeting him then. At 5′6″ and slightly stooped, I thought him a giant.