WSOP Main Event ... if only

Had a bit of a poor session on the cash tables last night, but apart from those brief couple of hours I have been in Decorating Mode this weekend, and I was playing cash in between painting last night - so only myself to blame for the loss.

Moving onto the greater Poker Community, its excellent to see a British Player doing so well in this years Main Event - Take a bow Jon Kalmar. Jon originates from Chorley (Peter Kay country), and is apparently a high stakes player on Ladbrokes, going under the name of 'Skalie'.

I've been keeping my Broadband on constantly through the morning watching for news on his progress, although there is a distinct lack of information about Jon on the PokerNews feeds - even though he has been Chip Leader a good percentage of the day !!

All the reporting on there is about the American players, in fact one of the few time Jon got a mention was when his 'supporters' where being a little rowdy - I can imagine the Americans being really gutted if a Brit wins their World Championship !! although on the positive side it might get the Unlawful Gaming Bill reversed, to promote more US players and stop us Brits winning it in future years.

I got me to thinking how I would react if I won the Main Event. I can imagine doing a bit of a 'Gazza' in my winning speech, with the sense of pride and achievement -both for myself,my family and very proudly for my country, and the below poem came into my head.

If I should die, think only this of me:

That there's some corner of a foreign field That is forever England.

There shall be In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;

A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware, Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam;

A body of England's, breathing English air, Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home. And think, this heart, all evil shed away, A pulse in the eternal mind, no less Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;

Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day; And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness, In hearts at peace, under an English heaven.

The Soldier by Rupert Brooke

.................... I'm filling up just think about it