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The Bok Bar in Blandford Street isn't South African, which surprised me. In fact, it's Thai. However, there was fake zebra-skin and leopard-skin covering on the seats. Perhaps this was a kind of hedging your bets, or perhaps it had once been a South African bar, but they couldn't make it pay.
Anyhoo, I made my way there to meet Mr Ward and other poker gliterati for an evening of hilarity (always guaranteed if The Youngster is going to be there, and drinking). The good Doctor Channing was the only one in attendance when I arrived, but we were soon joined by Gryko, Mr and Mrs Purle, the Youngster, and Allan "Titmus" Engel. Mr Ward telephoned that he and Keith Hawkins (who had both been to the QPR-Burnley game that afternoon) might be a bit late, because "he was trying to get Keith to finish his drink". As excuses for lateness go, this one was just about as unbelievable as it gets, and we immediately assumed that it was a coup by Andy to dodge his promised spending spree (as a result of a nice $60K payday in Tunica). However, Mr Ward eventually appeared and we were all treated, as promised.
The good doctor told one of his staggeringly embellished tales of other poker players -- this one involving Murray Brown, a tuxedo, a sports car, an attractive woman, and a petrol station near Gatwick on a Sunday morning.
Perhaps I should have driven up, because then I could have joined either the Miros group (heading to the Gutshot) or the Gryko group (heading to the Vic), but instead I had to rush for my train. But I did manage to take the Noble tables for a few bucks before going to bed.
Here's some pix... pleasing in the sense that I now know there is at least one person in the world of whom it is harder to take a decent picture than me. Step forward Mr Ward.
( The Bok Bar )
Anyhoo, I made my way there to meet Mr Ward and other poker gliterati for an evening of hilarity (always guaranteed if The Youngster is going to be there, and drinking). The good Doctor Channing was the only one in attendance when I arrived, but we were soon joined by Gryko, Mr and Mrs Purle, the Youngster, and Allan "Titmus" Engel. Mr Ward telephoned that he and Keith Hawkins (who had both been to the QPR-Burnley game that afternoon) might be a bit late, because "he was trying to get Keith to finish his drink". As excuses for lateness go, this one was just about as unbelievable as it gets, and we immediately assumed that it was a coup by Andy to dodge his promised spending spree (as a result of a nice $60K payday in Tunica). However, Mr Ward eventually appeared and we were all treated, as promised.
The good doctor told one of his staggeringly embellished tales of other poker players -- this one involving Murray Brown, a tuxedo, a sports car, an attractive woman, and a petrol station near Gatwick on a Sunday morning.
Perhaps I should have driven up, because then I could have joined either the Miros group (heading to the Gutshot) or the Gryko group (heading to the Vic), but instead I had to rush for my train. But I did manage to take the Noble tables for a few bucks before going to bed.
Here's some pix... pleasing in the sense that I now know there is at least one person in the world of whom it is harder to take a decent picture than me. Step forward Mr Ward.
( The Bok Bar )
