Internet Poker / Editor / 09 August 2007 / Leave a Comment

Flush editor Matt Broughton is a card shark (when playing poker with matches). But on the more serious subject of poker journalism he asks - are we bored yet?

Thanks to the surge of interest in the wonderful world of poker in recent times, there's no shortage of poker scribes on the planet. Each writer has, generally speaking, their own area of speciality. Some are gifted interviewers; able to sit with the most tight-lipped pros on the planet and coerce them into spilling the beans. Others are able to report on live events with such clarity of description that the reader feels they are actually there at the table, watching the tournament unfold before their very eyes.

Me? Oh I'm just really sarcastic.

Yes, while 'proper poker writers' are busy telling you how the player in seat one just made an incredible laydown with pocket queens in light of a check-raise from the loose/aggressive player on seat three, I'm busy pointing at the bloke in seat six whose got sticky-out ears and smells like dustbins. It isn't big or clever, but it is bloody funny. Well, to me anyway...

I like to think that it's this specific 'skill' that has led to my being asked to produce the Betfair content you're reading right now. Not necessarily because I'm good, but because I'm different. I mean, just how many interviews with Phil Hellmuth does the world need? How many more AQ vs JJ stories can you take?

As an example, I thought I'd share an experience from my travels - specifically a press trip out to Monte Carlo...

As if often the way when travelling with a bunch of poker journos, as soon as there's any dead time, focus immediately shifts to 'a swift game'. In this particular instance I was part of a real mixed group, with all levels of 'skill' represented. We had two hardcore Swedes who wanted to play for serious money, right through to a PR girl who thought you needed two decks of cards to play Hold'em - the sort of situation that would lead to what you might call 'an interesting game'... if only we had chips.

Looking down at the bar table I noticed a small box of matches in an ashtray.
Each box only held twelve matches, but with a bit of thought - and LOTS more boxes - we might just make this work.

I explained my plan: We break each match into two. The halves with the head are worth 100, the halves without, 25s, and the boxes are worth 500 each. Genius. Now we just needed more matches. Leave this to me!

Stealth. Cunning. Guile. Just some of the words that might have been used to describe how I sauntered around the bar - 'flying casual' as it were - stealing boxes of matches en route. At one point I had about twenty five boxes in my trouser pockets. Had there been a sudden fire, everyone could have gathered round me and roasted marshmallows while I 'genied' like a roman candle.

At one point I caught the eye of the waitress whose job it was to ensure the tables all had clean ashtrays and a supply of matchboxes. She squinted at me suspiciously; trying to work out why her job had suddenly become so much more demanding despite the fact that the bar was practically empty. I chuckled to myself. The perfect crime!

I returned triumphant to the table, but all eyes were fixed over my shoulder. I turned around and found myself face-to-face with the waitress who was sporting the sort of face that practically spelt out the thought "you pathetic child". Without saying a word she dropped 50 boxes of matches onto the table, spun around and marched off.

So much for the perfect crime... Anyway, who fancies a game of poker!

Matt Broughton is Editor of Flush Magazine, and part of the expert presenting team on Sky Poker.
© Matt Broughton 2007

Post a comment

Name:

Email Address:

URL:

Remember personal info?

Comment: