Dirty Poker Part 1

It was around the middle of November 2003 as I recall when I received my first invite into “big Mik’s” cash game that was being run in a quiet suburb of Birmingham at the time. My good friend Andy called me one evening to inform me of the game and ask me if I was interested in playing. For Andy to call me like this probably meant that the game was good. “What do they play” was my first question, “dealers choice pot-limit, mainly Omaha and Stud” said Andy “and its £1000 (about $1800) minimum buy-in with 10-20 blinds“.

“Do we know anybody” I asked him, “I know a couple of people buts it’s run by a Greek guy called Big Mik replied Andy”. I had heard of this name before and I suspected that it meant trouble. “Is this the same Mik that once hospitalised a guy who slow-rolled him” I enquired. “He’s done far worse than that and he’s also a 300lb mountain who’s a very sore loser” said Andy.

“Some of the guys who will be at this game will be there because Mik invited them which means that they are gonna be either complete psycho’s” or local mobsters revealed Andy further. “Count me in” I said, without even waiting to think it through, “I’ll only bring a couple of thousand just to be on the safe side”. I do not trust private cash games of any description, especially ones in which I have not had any experience of before and especially ones that have utter low life for opponents, but according to Andy this game was very good. Andy also informed me that a local casino poker dealer would be dealing the game on his day off from work. While this is no proof that the game will be straight, it was at least something.

“How’s your pot limit, are you still playing mainly limit on the net” inquired Andy. I had not played any pot limit for about six months but I felt that I could comfortably feel my way into the game. “Just make sure you keep your mouth shut and don’t piss anybody off in this game” was Andy’s farewell advice, “oh and by the way, don’t stare at anybody” he said almost as an afterthought.

On the night of the game, I had a 100 mile drive to my appointment with doom. I had been pro for about six months but about 90% of my play had been on the net. I had played in sizeable live cash games before but always with respectable people. I was running all sorts through my head as my journey continued and eventually had formed a battle plan for the evening by the time I arrived.

My instructions were simple, I was to call a cell phone number that I was given by Andy when I was in the area and I would be then directed to the house where the game was. When I arrived, I was surprised to find that this particular suburb was obviously a very wealthy area and not at all what I had expected. I had no need to ring the door bell as the door was opened for me as I walked up the path. The guy on the door was a dead ringer for “Odd Job” out of the James Bond films and was a clear indication that any trouble would be easily dealt with. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be the one who would be causing the trouble.

I was led upstairs into a very large room that to my surprise was literally crammed full of people. There must have been about 50 people in this room of which over a quarter of them were female. As I walked up to the table, I immediately saw Andy who gave me a wave and summoned me over to take the remaining empty seat that had been saved for me. “Looks like your friend can’t tell the @*6?*!< time”, this was the infamous “Big Mik” whom I had heard so much about. “If your poker’s as good as your time keeping boy then your *>@”%+ already” was Miks second outburst within seconds of my arrival.

I just smiled back, I was determined to not let this guy get to me. Andy had warned me that this was a part of his game and that he loved to mess with players heads and try to tilt them. I took my seat quietly and I instantly recognised the dealer, a guy in his twenties called “Danny” who worked for a local casino as a croupier and a poker dealer. This is strictly forbidden as it is taboo for any casino employee to have contact with customers outside of the casino In England, I simply nodded at him in recognition and said nothing.

I had already decided on the way here not to put the entire two thousand in play straight away. If I needed more funds then Andy could fix me up and he knew that I was good for it. The sensible way to proceed was to buy-in for the minimum and sit and watch for a while. My buy in of £1000 ($1800) was met with yet another remark from Mik. “Thought you came to play poker boy, is that all you can afford”. I started to imagine for a minute what it might be like to introduce this guys head to a baseball bat as he was starting to annoy me within the first two minutes. I remembered what Andy had said and I had made my first priority of the night, controlling my emotions.

Despite the fact that I was in my mid-thirties, he still insisted on calling me “boy”. “We don’t play any of that limit shit here boy”. Andy had informed me during our initial phone call that he had been telling people that I only played limit hold’em on the net. If the other players bought this then I certainly could use this to my advantage if and when the time arose. Big Mik was certainly talking the talk but from what I had heard, that was about all he could do, he had about fifteen thousand on the table and this was easily the largest stack. He was big on intimidation but any guy who had as many underworld connections as him was intimidating without even opening his mouth.

Another story that had circulated about “Mik” was that he had once had two of his guys bust the fingers of a couple of players who he had suspected of collusion in his game. He couldn’t prove anything but that never stopped “Mik”. It was then that I remembered that my best friend was at the table with me and “Mik” knew this. Suddenly I didn’t feel too good and was thinking “what the hell am I doing here” and that’s BEFORE I get to see any cards.