I recently met some old poker friends at the 888 VIP event in London, and inevitably the conversation came around to the good old days of the made for TV UK POKER OPEN. For reasons nobody has ever figured out, Jesse May and I did most of what was loosely described as commentary and Mad Marty was the tournament director. It goes without saying that those responsible for this state of affairs are, quite rightly, no longer employed by the company. If you weren’t too worried about litigation and stuff like that you could write a hell of a book about what goes on when pros, online qualifiers, celebrities, poker company employees and a TV crew get incarcerated for two weeks in the arsehole of nowhere (sometimes called Maidstone by residents, obsessed with property prices) and maybe I will.
Some pretty tasty stuff went on in the studio too. Strangely enough, a lot of it involved Mad Marty. On one famous occasion, there was a power cut in the middle of a heat and play was suspended for an hour while it got sorted. When eventually the players were reseated Marty explained that the tape had been erased by the power problem and they would have to start again at the beginning. John Magill threw a fit as he had been running all over the table and had a huge stack. Marty patiently pointed out that we couldn’t have a TV show that started in the middle. John Magill said he didn’t give a xxxx about the TV show and he wasn’t going to give any chips back to anyone. This was considered a little selfish on his part as the prize pool was only a million. Then, Marty came up with the unforgettable line “Nobody else is complaining, John.” When Magill finally figured out Marty was only having a laugh, we got on with the play. And no. He didn’t win.
We used to love it when the Devilfish or Tony G (preferably half in the bag) were playing as we were guaranteed a laugh, if nothing else. The Fish once played in a heat that also involved Don O’Dea (better known as Eoghan’s Daddy) and David Benyamine. He played really well but got dogged all over the place. A really nice lady was doing the exit interviews and seemed a little shocked when Dave was less than gracious in defeat, especially when she asked who he thought would win. He replied that he didn’t give a flying xxx. I thought it was great but nobody ever listens to me. Strange. He was told he’d have to do it again, preferably with less colourful language. This he did about an hour later. He amazingly predicted almost exactly what was going to happen in the heat, including how David would get ridiculously lucky with an A9. It was less amazing if you knew he’d just watched it unfold in the green room. Hard to keep a good entertainer down!
But poker’s not all fun. We recently lost one of the true gentlemen of the game. A lot of you will have known Tom Sexton as a poker photographer, blogger and columnist with an infectious smile and irrepressible glass half full outlook on life. I knew him as Mike’s brother and fiercely loyal best friend. I never was lucky enough to have a brother, but if I did and he was half the man Tom was, that’d be good enough for me.
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Some pretty tasty stuff went on in the studio too. Strangely enough, a lot of it involved Mad Marty. On one famous occasion, there was a power cut in the middle of a heat and play was suspended for an hour while it got sorted. When eventually the players were reseated Marty explained that the tape had been erased by the power problem and they would have to start again at the beginning. John Magill threw a fit as he had been running all over the table and had a huge stack. Marty patiently pointed out that we couldn’t have a TV show that started in the middle. John Magill said he didn’t give a xxxx about the TV show and he wasn’t going to give any chips back to anyone. This was considered a little selfish on his part as the prize pool was only a million. Then, Marty came up with the unforgettable line “Nobody else is complaining, John.” When Magill finally figured out Marty was only having a laugh, we got on with the play. And no. He didn’t win.
We used to love it when the Devilfish or Tony G (preferably half in the bag) were playing as we were guaranteed a laugh, if nothing else. The Fish once played in a heat that also involved Don O’Dea (better known as Eoghan’s Daddy) and David Benyamine. He played really well but got dogged all over the place. A really nice lady was doing the exit interviews and seemed a little shocked when Dave was less than gracious in defeat, especially when she asked who he thought would win. He replied that he didn’t give a flying xxx. I thought it was great but nobody ever listens to me. Strange. He was told he’d have to do it again, preferably with less colourful language. This he did about an hour later. He amazingly predicted almost exactly what was going to happen in the heat, including how David would get ridiculously lucky with an A9. It was less amazing if you knew he’d just watched it unfold in the green room. Hard to keep a good entertainer down!
But poker’s not all fun. We recently lost one of the true gentlemen of the game. A lot of you will have known Tom Sexton as a poker photographer, blogger and columnist with an infectious smile and irrepressible glass half full outlook on life. I knew him as Mike’s brother and fiercely loyal best friend. I never was lucky enough to have a brother, but if I did and he was half the man Tom was, that’d be good enough for me.
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