My moustache is getting out and about. Today I was taking part in a big charity poker tournament, the kind of place where it's hard to melt into the background or for people to ignore what is on the top of my lip, as you're spending a lot of time sitting round a table, looking at each others faces, trying to see a sign that will betray what cards they are holding. Would the Hitler moustache intimidate my opponents in a similar way to Greg Raymer's lizard eye sunglasses? Or would they take me less seriously as an opponent? Or would they just think I was mentally ill or be confused as to what was going on? Probably the latter option I think, as it turned out.
I knew a lot of people who were at the event already, including TV's Emma Kennedy who had not seen the tache before and who just laughed and put her head in her hands when she first saw me. I had decided to wear a suit to the event and funnily enough, I think that probably made the moustache stand out more and appear more Hitlery. I certainly thought I got more comments as I travelled to the event than I'd had before, though had just shaved that morning (all bit the most important bit) so maybe it was standing out better than ever.
The people I knew well at the event laughed and commented assuming correctly that the face furniture was for a show, but people I only vaguely knew would say hello, but then look a bit anxious and confused, not wanting to comment in case I thought that I looked good.
I was actually worried about winning the event as the charity in part was helping Jewish and Arab kids to come together and see that they weren't that different. And I wasn't sure how having a man with a Hitler moustache holding their trophy might play in the press photos.
Luckily (or unluckily) fate had dictated that I was in no danger of winning. I got lousy cards, and even though I played very patiently, everything went against me. One crucial hand made all the difference. There was a very drunk guy at our table who was going in on everything and a better, but very loose player who was also playing most hands, but knew what he was doing. The loose player raised before the flop without even looking at his cards (just for the fun of it). I had a King and a Queen, which isn't bad, but given the first guy didn't know what he had it was worth calling. The drunk guy also came in. The flop came down and it was Ace, King, Queen. I had two pairs. I was hoping someone had the Ace as they would then probably play quite hard, hoping that no one had 10 Jack, which would screw me or indeed have Ace King or Ace Queen. From the way both these guys had been playing I was pretty certain I was winning.
The better player went all in and I just knew he had an Ace, but nothing better and that I was winning so I called. The drunk player also called. He had 99 and his only chance was to hit one of the two remaining 9s in the pack. He had been silly to call, but that was how he was playing (and it was working for him as he was winning a lot of hands), the good player had, as I had guessed an Ace and a very poor kicker of a 2. I was way ahead. He had two chances to hit one of the three remaining 2s and three remaining Aces to win the hand. This wasn't likely. I looked like winning around about eight or nine thousand chips which would put me in a great position for the rest of the tournament. Or I could lose everything and be forced to give up another £100 to buy some more chips (which you were allowed to do for the first 90 minutes of the tourney). I wasn't home and dry, but the odds were definitely on my side. The next card came down and it was a 2. He now also had two pairs, but his aces beat my Kings. I could still win if a King or Queen came down and gave me a full house. There was about a one in ten chance. The final card was another two. Which just rubbed it in my face really.
It was annoying as I had chosen my moment very well and had been in a very strong position and really I think the good player should have worked out that I had something much better than him, as I'd barely played a hand.
It reminded me of what a stupid and frustrating game poker is and no doubt has reminded you of what a boring game it is to read about. But in that one hand, which I'd have won three out of four times, my evening was decided. The only slight ray of sunshine was that Emma also got knocked out early.
Still all the money I lost went to help children round the world, so I was a benevolent Hitler lookalike. And I wonder if my role in the world is to be a good Hitler, going about my life, helping people and making some compensation for my rather less humanist double.
Speaking of which, thanks to all those of you who have already donated to the
Hitler Moustache Programme fund. It's already topped £1000 which is awesome, but we need a lot more than that, so I hope the rest of you will pull your fingers out. You only have to the end of the month to get your name in the programme. As usual I should point out that since last year you have had 365 free blog entries as well as over 50 hours of free podcasts and if you want me to keep churning this crap out then I think it's only fair that you give something back. Not even to me. If I was a real Hitler I'd keep the lot for myself, but instead I give it to
brilliant people like these. I know times are tough, but I don't think £12.50 is bad value for everything that I am giving you - plus you get a free signed programme, with your name in it so everyone sees how ace you are and as usual there will be a draw for some spot prizes as well as a good prize for whoever give the most (was thinking part of that might be my shaved off Hitler moustache - though that might be too disgusting, but would at least give someone the chance to clone me in a strange mirroring of the Boys from Brazil). So don't hold back you mo fos, get donating now. Because if there is no Warming Up entry tomorrow you will know it's your fault.
Many, many thanks to all the brilliant people who have donated though. You truly are the sons (and daughters) of God and if you all buy brown shirts you can really show your devotion to me.
