11 Early July 2007 — Looking back

I realized there was a whole world of gambling beyond just scratch cards. So I opened an account with a firm of bookmakers and had a go at the horses. I began secretly reading Sporting Life as well as the racing pages in the daily newspapers, and looked up a number of websites that told you how to win — or at least to have the best chance of winning.

Factoring in my skills at maths, I had three wins, seven places and forty-two losers in the following month. Not great, I had just £800 left in my dwindling savings. Then I came across a piece online about a guy, calling himself the Cincinnati Kid, who reckoned he made £100K a year at online poker. He played the time zones. He figured out, for example, that at 3 a.m. in Los Angeles it was 11 a.m. in London. People playing a poker game, especially an amateur one, say in LA at that time, were likely to be tired and a little drunk, whereas he was fresh and alert. Smart.

Roy had taught me how to play some of the varieties of poker when we’d been on holiday in Mykonos one summer. I boned up on it online, then put it into practice, in the hours between the end of my shift at the medical centre and Roy getting home. But winning wasn’t as easy as the Cincinnati Kid made it sound.

I favoured Texas hold ’em, but after another month working the time zones — Australia was perfect for me, with games going well into the small hours in just about every major city — my £800 had increased to just £1,152. Although they might be tired and drunk, one thing I learned about Aussie gamblers — they were still pretty sharp. Five weeks later, and although I’d had a few good wins, I was down to £731. Wherever that BIG WIN was lurking, it wasn’t in the dens of lone Aussie gamblers.

I was beginning to think that initial run of luck had been just what Roy had said it was all along, and nothing more. Beginner’s luck. That I was chasing a dream. But then something happened that was to change my thinking. And, ultimately, change the direction of my life.

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