Having recently attended a Full Tilt press event, I was chuffed to finally interview a couple of my favourite poker personalities; namely Howard Lederer and Mike Matusow. The most interesting event of the day, however, came later that afternoon as I stood by the bar, shooting the breeze with a group of journalists. As we chatted away, I absent-mindedly clasped my hands behind my back. Now, unbeknownst to me, Phil Ivey had chosen that exact moment to squeeze between me and a pillar in the room. It’s the sort of thing I couldn’t do if I tried, but I somehow managed to perfectly cup Ivey’s balls in my hands. Neither of us acknowledged the testicle cupping, but I immediately felt imbued with magical nut dust from the poker wizard’s pods. I said my goodbyes (without shaking hands, obviously) and hurried home to log-on for some heads-up action. I won 7 out of 9 games. The mystical knackers of Ivey were indeed the source of all things good in poker. Frankly, I regretted not having rubbed them three times.
Now it might strike some as an unorthodox approach to ‘winning poker’, but if you ever have the opportunity to fondle Ivey’s bollocks before a big tournament, grab the opportunity with both hands. Literally.
I’d also made another observation as I walked out of the venue with Shelly Rubenstein. Ivey was climbing into a car just in front of us clutching the “How to Play Poker” supplement I helped the Poker Player Magazine boys write. Shelly and I looked at each other in a ‘did you just see what I saw?’ way. “You’d think he was a bit beyond that.” Shelly ventured. I agreed, but couldn’t help thinking that if Phil Ivey spent a little less time reading books and more time fiddling with his genitals he’d be unstoppable.