Bigger Deal

“In Poland there’s an inn, in Poland there’s an inn”

You get in the elevator (“lift” to the Brits) at the Warsaw Hyatt, and right there, engraved into the door jamb, is the name “Schindler”. I have a confession to make: I’ve never seen the movie Schindler’s List. Whenever I’ve seen a movie (or play) like that, I’ve left feeling like my guts have been ripped out. So no Hotel Rwanda for me. There’s enough of that on CNN, so I don’t go looking for more of it in the time I have for entertainment. Hell, I’m not even sure if the Schindler stamped into the metal of that elevator door is the same Schindler who saved so many Jews from death during World War II. But I’m going with “Yes, that’s his company.” And I’m delighted that it’s prospered all these years.

Down in the casino, I come across a bunch of different issues of Card Player magazine, all in Polish. I instantly went to the index, and discovered that, yes, I had articles in some of them. Which means that somebody had to translate my piece “Play a hand with Ken” into Polish. I can’t decide if that’s really cool, or I just feel bad for the guy that had to do it.

The first day of the European Poker Tour Warsaw event, the Harvard Business School was having a get-together in the hotel lobby. A bunch of Harvard B-school alums, friends, and hangers-on, ordering from the same bar as a crowd of poker players. I know that poker is big at Harvard. In fact, a famous professor at Harvard Law School, Charles Nesson, has formed an organization to teach kids good life skills using poker as the decision-making model. So I was awfully disappointed that the two groups didn’t manage to find each other to arrange some, ah, “inter-disciplinary discussions”.  I kept looking for a Harvard t-shirt in the cash games, but didn’t see one. Silly B-school people, attending boring workshops when they could have been in the juiciest PLO game I’ve seen in a long time.

Which brings me to the insanely attractive women that seem to be everywhere in this country. [1] One American Internet whiz kid described it this way: “So this other American guy and I are walking through a club, and we decide to have a bet: the first one of us to spot a woman we could both agree wasn’t beautiful – that guy would win 200 Euros. Eventually, we gave up and called the bet a push.” Neil Stoddart, the EPT tour photographer, said, “All during the communist era, you never saw pictures of beautiful women inside the Eastern Bloc. Were they keeping them to themselves, or what?” I pointed this out to my wife, Lisa, as we passed through airport security on the way out of Warsaw. It was overseen by a beautiful blonde lass, in camouflage and a sidearm. “That’s certainly the most gorgeous armed security guard I’ve ever seen.” I mentioned Neil’s comment to Lisa. “Think about it,” she replied – “Suppose your country was a puppet of a major superpower. Your government had no authority, you couldn’t travel outside your country, you had zero consumer luxuries, and nothing to look forward to. Eventually, that would reflect in your facial expression, your physical stature – everything about you.” If this means that the fall of the Berlin Wall was responsible for the megawatt smile on the barista who made “long coffees” for me at the casino bar every morning, then viva la revolucion.

Which really does bring me to the coffee, which was, without any questions whatsoever, the best I’ve drunk on the EPT.  And this comes from somebody who will sip espresso at the drop of a demitasse. More importantly, John Duthie heartily agreed about the coffee’s quality. This is a man whose last cappuccino was never long ago, and whose next one is never far off, so his judgment is unquestioned. A “long coffee” is simply espresso that has been allowed to drip through the grounds longer than a standard espresso shot. It means that the overall drink is a bit weaker, and perhaps a bit more bitter. But compared to drip coffee, it is… well, there’s no comparison. You put in a little sugar, top it with a drop of milk to smooth the flavor, and your day is off to a dynamite start.

It was fun seeing Kara “One-Shot” Scott [2] show up in jeans and a PokerStars dress shirt. She was actually playing in the event as a PokerStars-sponsored player and was approximately 1000 times more excited to be at the table than interviewing people who’d busted out. Alas, she busted out after about three hours on the first day, but by all accounts, she acquitted herself most admirably – these things just happen in a poker tournament. We also asked her to take a turn at final table announcing. She said she was nervous about doing that. “You? Nervous in front of a camera?” A woman who spends more time in front of a TV camera than the rest of us combined. “What if I make a mistake in my announcing, and it affects what the players do?” Always thinking about the game – what a woman. To nobody’s surprise, she did splendidly, but she admitted that the crowds around really did make her nervous at first.

I saved the best for last. At the Warsaw Hyatt, they get poker players. They have a special dinner buffet for the players that stays open until, well, I don’t know. I do know that I went in there at 1:30 AM more than once, to find it well-stocked and being maintained by the staff. Even more delightful, a fellow could play until the poker room closed at 6:00 AM, go to bed for seven hours, then come back to the poker players’ buffet, and get (brace yourself) omelettes made to order, fresh fruit, cereals, and coffee. At 1:00 PM.

The other good news? For EPT Season Five, the Warsaw event has been moved to November. So you only have eight months before you get to go (back?). See you there.

[1] It didn’t, really, but that was the best segue I could think of.    Go Back

[2] That’s “Kara”, rhymes with “American”, not “Kahra”, rhymes with “car”. Go Back