Test - Two - Test

Each country's flag was hung high and the stage was set for what turned out to be the greatest and most nail biting Poker Nation's Cup in its young history.

Many of the best players in the world set aside their inhibitions and checked their egos at the door, as pride and destiny, awaited each one of them. They traveled to Cardiff for the noblest reason of all; the honor of representing ones country.

And one more thing… I love the Welsh!!!

Ciaran O'Leary

Test - Test - Test

Each country's flag was hung high and the stage was set for what turned out to be the greatest and most nail biting Poker Nation's Cup in its young history.

Many of the best players in the world set aside their inhibitions and checked their egos at the door, as pride and destiny, awaited each one of them. They traveled to Cardiff for the noblest reason of all; the honor of representing ones country.

For most it's just a dream, and for only a select few did it become a reality. It is the case that the Cup's splendid format and it's unique and close knit player quarters provide the teams (and will most definitely provide the viewer at home) with a whole new meaning to the phrase, 'behind the scenes'.

The six countries that were lucky enough to be invited to play for this prestigious title were as follows; Ireland, Great Britain, Germany, Sweden, Holland, and last but not least America. The format was set up with each team having five pros with an additional amateur who was fortunate enough to have won their seat online making it six players per team.

Then there were six heats with each player getting to play in one heat. Based then on where each person finished in their heat, they were given points (first place received 16 points, while sixth/last place received only one point) chips were then allocated on the total amount of points that each team had after the six heats were complete.

Our captain, the Irish team that is, Padraig Parkinson got it started for us (Ireland) in the first heat. He played his usual fiery and fantastic game and was involved in at least 70 percent of the hands and proved to be a very tough challenge for his opponents. Some of which included, the very talented Chad Brown and the man of the hour, "the Sultan" himself, Mr. Neil Channing. Padraig ended up getting unlucky in a couple of hands and was knocked out in fourth place but was able to claim a respectable 4 points for the Irish team.

Next up in heat two for us was Marty Smith. Marty is a great player and is no stranger to this format (six handed). I happened to have the honor of commentating on this particular heat with the wonderful and super talented Vicky Coren and what an exciting heat it turned out to be. Unfortunately for Marty and for us he had pocket queens early in the match and ran into a Dutch lad who was playing well and just happened to be holding pocket kings (ouch!) Keep in mind that any pair in six handed play is a huge hand pre-flop especially Jacks or better. Marty's ladies did not improve and was alas, he was first evicted from heat two with one point.

Heat three had Ireland's internet qualifier Darren O'Brien. Darren hails from County Cork in Ireland - the same place as me - and he proved to be a remarkable young player. He made some tasty moves and some fine reads and ended up capturing a vital second place for the Irish Squad along with eleven points. He had great support from his friends who were as much a part of the team as I was myself. Well done Darren and to your friends, you all did yourself and country very proud.

Heat four for us brought in the old guard himself, Mr. Liam Flood. Liam has a game that commands respect and a couple great calls from him early looked like he was indeed on a mission. However, it was only a cruel suck out from a Dutch man that unfortunately crippled Liam's chances and he could not recover. It was only when exiting the building that he gave a final salute and recited that famous line, "sure if it weren't for bad luck I'd win 'me all". Liam got two points for his trouble and a hot cup of tea!

Heat five for Ireland; brought in the man they call 'the Assassin', Donnacha O'Dea. It was legend in his school when he was a young lad that he used to play heads up five card draw poker with the headmaster and it is told by the old folk that he once won SO MUCH from the headmaster that he was able to negotiate and exchange the debt… for two extra days off for the entire school! This is exactly the sprit and intensity that we needed. Donnacha started off very well and made his presence known early but again lady luck did not shine on the Irish, as Connacht's good friend Surrender Sonar pulled a Houdini and made the Assassin's chips disappear. For his troubles Donnacha received two points and a kick in the goolies.

The sixth heat was referred to by the media as 'Execution Row'. It had a line up that had they auditioned for the movie Rounders, all would have locked up a spot!

William Thorsen, Robert Williamson III, Marcel Luske, Benjamin Kang, Roland De Wolfe and yours truly Ciaran O'Leary and the fact that we kinda needed a few points? well, I wouldn't have it any other way baby!!! And with the Irish national anthem playing in my head, I went to battle. I got heads up with Benjamin (the German) and we eventually got all the money pre-flop, he had A-J off and I had K-Q suited.

He was a slight favorite and was fortunate enough to be the one with his hands in the air at the end of it! ... heavy sigh ... However we did get the crucial points that we needed and we were right back in it!


The Final? Well, Padraig is the Captain and the leader of the Irish team so he felt that the best person to get the job done was Donnacha. Well folks, there wasn't any mutiny on this ship as everyone completely agreed. So the object was to get Donnacha in as quick as possible and after a brief stint from Marty and Liam and one very funny hand from Padraig, the Assassin was in. And by golly he almost pulled it off. The only thing that prevented Ireland from winning, were the mighty Brits and on this particular occasion 'Bangers & Mash' proved too tasty for the Irish Breakfast and sent us home without a tip!

I'll leave you with this; A final note,

It was great to be a part of the Irish team and apart of the Poker Nations Cup. Huge thanks goes to Party Poker and Presentable for putting on an AMAZING event and we look forward to next year. I would also like to thank all the catering staff for the fantastic food and the wonderful lady who kept all the plates clean as she was always so happy.

And one more thing… I love the Welsh!!!

Ciaran O'Leary

How Neil Channing Got His Groove Back

He has the smile of an Englishman, the confidence of an American with the wit and charm of an Irishman. Yes good folk, the man I refer to, is none other than the "Sultan of the River," Mr. Neil Andrew Channing. Every once in a while you meet someone that you just can't help but like, and Neil fits that description. Breathe my friends, for he is a breath of fresh air.

After many a time of kicking tin cans along the streets of London and wondering if and when his ship would ever come in, Neil has finally hit the big time. Fresh from his huge win at the oldest and most prestigious poker tournament in all of Europe, the Paddy Power Poker Irish Open, he most recently captured the highly sought after Party Poker Nation's Cup where he beat us (the Irish team) on the last card dealt. The man is indeed on a roll.

But how is it that things could turn so quick in this man's favor you ask? Well, grab yourself a cup a tea and an old blanket, and allow me to tell the story and explain as to how it all came to pasture.

Now before I tell you this you have to promise not to tell a single soul..... OK then, here I go!

You see, I discovered it all after having a few too many pints of the black stuff with Neil at the bar in Dublin. While toasting his triumphant victory, he began to confide in me. He took me on a wonderful journey, where he spoke of goblins and fairies, witches and wizards, and the "Land of the Golden Challis."

At this point I stopped Neil and said, "C'mon now, are you going tell me or not?"

He smiled at me and he said "Ok Ciaran, can you handle the truth?"

"I can," says I, and off we went.

"Well," he said, "the night my luck changed was New Year's Eve. I had been out with a few friends but decided that I wanted too, for once, take it easy and watch the New Year festivities at home on the TV, but, quickly getting in the spirit of things watching all this joy and excitement, I decided to open this really old bottle of Champagne that I'd had for years. Well, after a couple of glasses I must have fallen asleep and began to dream."

Now, in this dream he found himself in this old bar in the west coast of Ireland called 'The Old Rogue'. It was a wet and windy night as he recalled it, with the halyards banging against the ship masts and water crashing up and over the old stone wall pier. It was a night indeed to be indoors with a hot toddy in your hand and a fire roaring up the chimney.

At this point I had to again stop Neil, for with all the talk of water I was bursting to go myself.

Now I'm back, we have a couple of more pints in front of us, and it was back to the dream.

"There had been many a ship wreck off this treacherous coast of Ireland," said Neil, "and it is believed by the old folk that lost souls still frequent this area and in particular, this old pub."

Now, as Neil's seems to remember, he's sitting next to the fire when he gets a tap on the shoulder and he looks around to see this absolutely gorgeous women standing there soaking wet. She asks Neil if she might share the fire with him (very well mannered indeed) and of course Neil obliges the young lady by removing his mucky boots off the chair and allowing her to sit down.

Now Neil, the astute poker pro that he is, seems to think that lady is in some way not of this time. Her attire is that of a woman from 16th or 17th century. Could she be one of these lost souls from one of the ship wrecks? Intrigued by the young lady Neil asked her, "do you come here often?"

Awww, come on Neil, you can do better than that lad!

She tells Neil that she is the daughter of the Earl of Connemara, and that she has been roaming these hills in search of her lost love Dec O'Cards.

At this point Neil can see that Lady is getting upset and is beginning to well up so he needs to intervene and prevent her from having a total break down.

So Neil elects to tell the Lady of some of his own misfortune and his poor endeavors, but after about fifteen hundred bad beat stories she eventually cuts him off and said that she too played, and that her lost love was also fond of the game and that it was at that very spot, that very table in a High-Low split game that she had met her love Dec, and they had fallen in love.

And now in some strange way this lady seems to feel that he was a gateway to her lost love, so she seduced him and deflowered him, and by doing this, Neil would never again be LAID a bad beat.

At this time Neil awoke to the clanging of bells and cheering from people outside on the street. He jumped up from his chair and looked out the window and trying to wipe the sleepy dust from his eyes he swears to me that he saw the lady and her love pass by the house!

So low and behold since that night Neil he has yet to have bad beat!

I'll leave you with this, a final note:

Now, I know this seems a wee bit far fetched, but there is little doubt that Mr. Channing has been king of the world in the last few months, and if only by some ancient champagne and tales of old ghost stories with the wind and rain that bring us good fortune, then who are we to deny. Remember, your ship can never come in if there isn't a dock there for it….. believe it-or not!

Ciaran O'Leary

Irish Pride

Ireland is an old land, made of mountain, hill, and glen
....and many a crop she's given to us of great Fenian men.

For those of you who are wondering, these are the first two lines from a poem that I wrote about the mother land many years ago.

Anyway, after the Austrian open was over and done with, Roland De Wolfe and I were en route for the airport and heading for Ireland when one of the more unusual and somewhat delicious prop bets that anyone has ever offered me was given by "Luckbox" (Roland).

You see, we had stopped by the duty free along the way and Roland had bought this HUGE bar of very rich chocolate. So after we had eaten about a third of it he comes up with the idea that he will give me 2/1 for $300 that I can't finish the rest of the chocolate in three minutes. I tell him that I'll take the bet on but should I vomit after finishing it that I still win the wager. Hmm… only after about 20 minutes of debating Roland decides to withdraw his offer due to the fact that by now my tummy was starting to rumble again and he figured that at this stage I was at best, only even money.

....Touchdown.

We arrived at Dublin airport to a blistering welcome, yes my friends the wind was a howling and the rain was beating down and with the song of, 'Dear auld Skibereen' playing in the back ground. I was home and I was happy.

After spending a few days down in the rebel county of Cork with my Mother and the rest of the family, I was back up to Dublin for the PaddyPowerPoker.com Irish Open (try saying that ten times).

All I can say to describe it was, that it was excellent... absolutely excellent. From the lady that made my bed to the man that made my breakfast, from the double bogie I had on the par three to the double Vodka I had at the guest bar, all had been done with such a splendid service and an air of great kindness that made a man beam with pride, Irish pride at that. Yes indeed my friends, it's the type of feeling that one can only get in Ireland.

The hotel was packed with poker players from all over the world, they came by boat and by train, by bus, and by plane, all lusting after the whopping €3 million guaranteed prize pool. It brought the card player, the horse punter, even the greyhound men turned up to lay claim for this giant prize. They played music in the players bar and the old folk clapped their hands. The visitors from foreign lands enjoyed the hospitality and pledged to one day again return. And all of this before the event even started!

March 20 arrived. I awoke that morning to the sun peeping through the curtains and my heart beating like crazy. I looked over to see my friend Mick McCool down on one knee asking the good Lord too grant him one wish and let him capture the Paddy Power Poker Irish Open. I let out a roar, "Would you take second right now Mick?"

"I would" he said, and after I gave him a slap with the pillow, we were away off down to get the breakfast.

After the grub I met up with the master himself, Mr. Padraig Parkinson. He had an air of confidence about him and a spring in his step. He told me that he was ready and intended to leave every last drop of effort in this great tournament.

We talked about strategy and the importance of taking it easy early. The objective of the day was to try and get to about 25,000 in chips and then enjoy the day off.

Ask and you shall receive, as that's about where we both ended up. Padraig played a blinder finishing on 28,000, and considering he was down to only 3,000, well, it just goes to show you that you must never give up. I ended up just slightly north of that with about 29,000. Mick had 33,000 and Rory Liffey was sitting like a king with almost 60,000.

We were still in, but unfortunately, hundreds of others had said their goodbyes.

The next day we played some golf and took it easy. At this stage I was now sharing a room with Rory. Just watching him prepare for day two with his attention to detail was intriguing, with his 3am yoga sessions to the half dozen raw eggs in the morning, well it made me feel like I was a Rocky movie. And you know what? That morning Rory was Rocky, he wanted that title bad, really bad.

Starting on day two there were only 265 players remaining. Considering we had started with 667 players we had lost over 60 percent of the field. I had a really nice table draw for day two with most stacks around the same as mine along with a few short stacks as well. After a few hours I had chipped up a little bit to 31,000 and I really liked the way the table was playing. Tony Cascarino had joined our table and all of a sudden I felt like a little kid again. Who can't for get those wonderful years he had playing for Ireland (the football team, that is) which saw us go to Europe twice and to two world cups. God bless you Tony Cascarino, and thank you for all those great memories..... and I told him as much.

Here is where it gets a bit crazy, but I'm not going to go in to it too much; lets just say a couple of mistakes here and there and a few weird table changes that threw things off a little bit and my Irish Open dreams were over for this year. Ahh well… we live and learn and then we learn some more. I went out with A-K against T-T with about 130 players remaining.

Mick was sent packing around the same time. While Rory could only shake his head and pump his fist saying, "it just means it will taste that much better Ciaran when we get it next year" and away off to the bar he went to deal with it like true Irish men.

I ended up doing the commentary with Jesse May and we had a blast. He has such a great feel for when to turn up the tempo and insert that burst of energy, which is so crucial to making a good show great.

I definitely learned a great deal from Jesse. Thank you, my man, for all the tips and making me look really good, and thanks Mickey (Jesse's wife) for all those fabulous pictures.

With three tables remaining we unfortunately saw the end of Padraig's effort for this year going out in 26th place, congrats P and commiserations at the same time sir, you did well.

The final table brought a lot of excitement with Neil "One-Out" Channing eventually taking down the title but not without a gallant effort from Tipperary man, Donal Norton, who finished second picked up €420,000, and Channing, for his troubles, received almost €800,000. Fair play, Neil, and congratulations indeed.

In my humble opinion, you were definitely the better player on the day, sir, and in deserving of the victory. Great Job lad!

I'll leave you with this; a final note. Some people took money home with them and some went home broke But I think I speak for most when I say that all at the very least took home a wealth of fine memories and some great stories to tell.

Well done to all the Paddy Power Poker staff and what a pleasure it was for me and so many others getting to know you all, Orla, Nikki, Cormac, Paddy Power Jr, Nic, Keith, Ross, Eric, Mike and Daragh and to anyone else I forgot.

Ciaran "Big C" O'Leary

From the Concord to Citywest

Hear me now my fellow poker addicts, for what I say is true. After spending three weeks in Europe rubbing shoulders with some of the best in the game, I came away with the sense of feeling how lucky we all are. Lucky because regardless of whether it's just a nine player sit-n-go in a pub in west Cork or whether it's the mighty PaddyPowerPoker.com Irish Open with almost 700 runners at the marvelous Citywest Hotel in Dublin, poker is being played with such a great integrity, such fine sportsmanship, and with such a splendid touch of class that enables me to proudly report that our great game is stronger than ever and is inevitably here to stay.

My first stop on this trip was Austria. It was there at the Concord Casino and Card Room that the PartyPoker.com European Challenge II was being held. It started off with an East vs. West team event which was an absolute blast and was enjoyed by all who took part.

My exit from this event was as a result of my old buddy Roland De Wolfe or "Captain Luckbox" as many like to call him. I had 7-7 and Roland had A-9. I avoided the flop, dodged the turn but was unfortunately sunk on the river by Lord Luckbox himself. Ah well whatcha gonna do! He is a grand lad and I'm happy to call him a friend.

Anyway, the West went on to win it and all westerners, as a result of Bjoern Kaersten received €750 a man. Which basically covered each player's bar tab for the week. (Not!)

Next came the Austrian Open. Its splendid structure, accompanied by the fact that it was a televised event ensured that it was represented by players from all over the world. I must have pissed somebody off somewhere as my timing was absolutely miserable, when I flopped a set my opponent had a bigger set, when I had T-T the man from uncle had J-J, when I ordered a double Vodka I was given only a single. How is a man supposed to work under such conditions? Ah sure… if we can't laugh then we are destined to cry. Where's a tissue when I need one.

Anyway here's how I went out of this one. After spending about three hours at the TV table, we were then moved off to the side. I had 9,000 in chips and after ducking more blows than Wayne McCullogh in a title fight I still felt that I could get things going. The average stack was about 18,000 and with no action around to the cut-off, player A makes it 700 to go (blinds at 150-300) player B, who was on the button and was fairly tight, raises it to 2,000, and I'm in the small blind and look down and see Q-Q, hmm so, what should I do?

Well there's a good chance that player A has nothing due to him being in the cut-off and that player B should also be aware of this and might only need A-Q or A-J or maybe even a mid-pair for him to raise. So with my arse puckered up tighter than a gasket in a garden hose I'm confident I am a head so I reraise it to 5,000 which only leaves me 4,000 behind. This is my hand here folks and there's absolutely no way I'm getting away from it now.

The big blind (who has been reckless to say the least) ponders for a while and announces "call". Call!!?? What in the hell is this fella up to? He has to know that I'm pot committed and that if he has A-A or K-K then surely he should reraise and not price in the other two lads especially player B on the button as it would only cost him another 3,000 to play. You see if he has A-A or K-K he is only a 6/4 favorite against two random hands, so better to take A-A or K-K up against only one hand (me) and stand less chance of being out drawn. So the more I think about the way he's playing the hand the less I can give him credit for either K-K or A-A. So I figure my hand has to be good. Now it's back around to player A and reluctantly he folds. Then player B on the button took about three minutes before he folded. So this told me they had to have big cards which was good for me as there was a chance of cards in common and less chance of an over card hitting.

I told myself that regardless of the flop, I'm moving in. Here it comes Ace in the window along with 7-2. So as planned I move in for my last 4,000 and only after about 30 seconds I hear…"call". I ask him, "do you have an Ace" and he says "No. I have three of them" He slows rolls me and as it turns out the cut-off had K-J suited and the button had A-K. What a crazy hand that was and I am gone.

I ended up doing the commentary with the very talented Mike Carlson and "Mad" Marty Wilson for the next three days which was an absolute blast. It was very exciting doing the final table as Dave "Devilfish" Ulliott was there along with a couple young, up and coming stars. Peter Gelencser eventually out lasted Devilfish and the rest at the final table capturing his first major tournament. The young man hails from Budapest, Hungary and was deserving of the victory as he seemed to want it that bit more. Congratulations Peter.

I'll leave you with this, a final note; I will let you know how my trip to Ireland went in my next blog. Until then, play well and remember there's no shame in folding.

Ciaran O'Leary

Shuffle Up and Deal Folks

The European Poker Challenge, the Austrian Open, the Irish Open, and the Party Poker Poker Nations Cup are all just around the corner.

Vienna, Austria is to be the first stop. It's my first trip to Austria and I'm very excited about it. Party Poker has invited me to come over and take part in the European Poker Challenge. It's a format that is set up with East taking on the West, which I'm told consists of the top thirty players from each. A couple of days after that I am playing in the Austrian Open, which will also surely draw many of the top players in Europe.

Party Poker does such a wonderful job with all the events in which they sponsor. They continue to set the bar very high and all I talk too seem to agree. I tip my hat to all of the staff there and to Neil and Warren in particular. The thing is with so many great tournaments nowadays that a player no longer needs to leave their country if they don't want to. So it's a credit to Party Poker and the Concord club for putting on such great events and continuing to entice players from other countries to travel.

I'm ready to put on a strong showing and hopefully will be able to get the job done. Fingers crossed. However if for some unfortunate reason that I am ousted from the tourney early (God forbid) then there's a good chance that I'll be found wiping my tears away, inside in the commentary booth giving my opinion. I had an opportunity to do some in Ireland at the Irish Poker Championship in January and that went very well.

After Austria I then head for the auld sod, the mother land, the old country. Yep I'm going home. I will spend about four days in Cork with my mum (bless her). She is sure to fatten me up with some good old fashion cooking, yummy, beef stew, mac and cheese, like only she can do. Yes friends, my stomach is growling at the mere thought of it and though it's a noise that causes my cat to hiss at me I can't help i. There's just no denying, that there is something oh so special with mothers home cooking. Slurrrp. Anyway, food aside, I really intend to just relax and catch up. She is such a wonderful lady. I'm very lucky!

Hopefully some of that luck will then rub off, as I head for the big smoke on the 19th… 'Ireland's capital' that's right, it's up to Dublin to do battle in the Paddy Power Poker Irish Poker Open. I'll be making the three hour journey from Cork on the train. It's such a pleasant and scenic route and it's not uncommon to experience all four seasons during this very short train ride.

The only shaky thing right now though is the US dollar. So I'm cutting coupons, raiding the young lad's money boxes (again!) and I'm down to using just two squares on the toilet paper. At this stage I could wipe the nose of a butterfly with out doing it any harm. But that's a story for another day.

I'll leave you with this, A final note, It's important to remember each time you sit at the poker table that you don't have to win every hand you're dealt, but merely the hands you play. You choose the hands you play. Choose wisely Indiana!

Ciaran

WSOP Sucker Punch

It's a long and lonely walk to the rail just after you get knocked out of a poker tournament. Over a thousand hands whip through your head in a matter of seconds, while at the same time you're trying to figure it out and make sense of what just happened.

"Why me?", "C'mon-now… not again!", and possible even "I wonder if Riverdance is taking on any new people.

"For goodness sake man, snap out of it. OK, your right, breathe just breathe. Where's a brown paper bag when I need one?"

Now imagine what the pain is like after you get knocked out of the main event at the World Series of Poker - that's pain for you.

Such pain is equal to that of an Irish man witnessing his beloved football team sent packing from the quarter finals in the World Cup by the Italians (Thanks a lot Schillaci!). It's the type of pain that only a Cork man must endure every time his great County has to face Kerry in the battle for supremacy in the Irish Gaelic football championships. (Gooch, are you sure you won't play for Cork as there's some great talent there?)

It's a pain which mirrors that of a groom, not long after he discovers that his short-sighted bride is soon to have laser surgery done on her eyes.

It's frustrating, I know. So many scenarios. Look but don't touch… touch but don't taste …OK, have a taste but don't swallow. It's enough to drive a man to drink (but if only it would drive him home) how cruel the great game of poker can be.

You know your name is on the list but they won't let you in. Here's an idea folks…knock louder.

You know in your heart of hearts that there's room enough for you to play in the big league. You know you belong with the elite, yet for some reason that big title seems to elude you.

Its little consolation my friends knowing that you played well and that you were able to get your money in with the best of it but once again have your tournament cut short by an inferior player who made a bad play but got lucky.

Boy that was good. Ahhh… how we poker players enjoy a good whine.

Lads and ladies, all jokes aside, I believe it's like this. There's only ever going to be a few people that are truly happy with the final out-come of a tournament, it's as simple as that.

The bad beats and often unbelievable stories that you may hear in and around the poker rooms and across the globe will always be a part of the game. Just remember this - you're not alone.

Keep in mind too though you're only ever a loser when you start making excuses.

I'll leave you with this, a final note.

I'm excited that the World Series of Poker is just around the corner. This is the year folks, I can feel it. Another bracelet sure would be great. Remember friends - knock louder!