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A few weeks ago I got a phone call at five in the morning from Stormin' Norman. For years, Norman drove a bus by day and played poker all night, which is why I always take taxis (they might all be at it).
I figured it couldn't be good news so I went on the attack with a "Do you know it's five o'clock in the morning?" "Sorry", said Norman "I forgot you were an hour ahead in France." Sometimes you just can't win.
A couple of weeks later, I was in Maidstone in Kent, playing in and doing what passes for a commentary on a TV poker tournament. During a break, Norman phoned me again to thank me for the small favour I'd done him after the last time we spoke. We had a laugh about this and that for a while before Norman got around to mentioning that he'd be available to play any tournament I couldn't attend myself but felt like sticking somebody into. I asked him if he'd mind travelling to Cork. "Why? Is there a tournament on down there?" asked Norman quite excitedly. "No", I replied. "But that's where the end of the queue is!" That'll teach him.
Comments (2)
I practically have!