PartyPoker cruise report part 2

After my dismal performance in the Media Tournament on Tuesday, I was determined to put things right. Settling down to some $60 sit-and-gos I quickly got blinded down in one before coming second and third in two others which, inevitably, has made up for my cash game losses.

I hate $2-$4 limit Hold’em and have vowed never to play the game again, especially after being taunted by the young lad sitting next to me – who I found out later was Barry Greenstein’s son – because I didn’t really like Ozzie Osborne. Twat.

Anyway, life at sea continues apace and there’s been plenty to keep me busy – lying down, drinking cocktails, a bit more lying down, and now, concentrating on the main tournament which is down to the last 36.

American Kenna James leads the field and, barring a disaster, will surely make the final table. After him there are very few household names around, but the emphasis on this trip has been about Internet players proving their worth. And yes, there are some players out of their depth, but it’s a once-in-a-lifetime chance and they’ve just enjoyed the experience, first-class accommodation and unbelievably friendly boat-full of poker players.

Holding the British flag aloft was the PokerPlayer freeroll competition winner Gerald Ringe who made it to the second day and was the highest placed UK finisher. Unfortunately, he came unstuck when someone called his pocket Kings all the way to the river where they, predictably, hit their Ace. He hung around a little while longer but it was always going to be difficult to make the money and the 48-year-old from Pimlico, London, fell in 150th. But with the money paid down to 99th place – a whopping $16,000 – there are plenty of average Joes walking around with much fatter wallets at the moment.

Which brings me onto my last point. I’ve never been to America, and I’d always wondered whether their huge appetites and girth had been blown out of all proportion. But I’m happy to confirm it’s not.

There are, of course, some very Hollywood-esque preened and beautiful people walking around. But there are FAR MORE fatties, for want of a better word, than I’ve ever set eyes on in such a small field. All I’ve heard is ‘Let’s go eat’ or ‘Can I grab a triple chocolate sundae with extra cream and a 3-litre glass of Coke please?’

Right, I’m off to the salad bar for some carrot shavings and three croutons?