Guest Blogger

The final table at Bay 101 was an experience; Ted Forrest defeated J.J. Liu in a historic event that lasted 263 hands. Longest WPT final table ever! J.J. recorded the highest finish by a female player ever in an open $10,000 buy-in event. While the Suicide King became the first player in history to have a WSOP bracelet, the NBC Head’s-up Championship title, and a WPT title on his resume. (Check out Tom Bostic’s latest blog, “The Suicide King?” to see how Forrest celebrated his monumental victory.) As the table played through the night and into St. Patrick’s Day everyone started to become impatient. Gary tried to remind me that I had a front row seat to poker history and that I should savor the moment. I knew he was right, but I had been up for 13 hours at that point, and I also knew what lay ahead of me in the next two days:

The table did finally ended, just after 2:00 a.m., and it was time for me to head back to San Francisco. I wrapped things up, and hopped into my Jeep for the 45-mile drive home from Silicon Valley around 3:30 a.m. I had to be in Alameda the next morning for a volleyball tournament at 8:30 a.m. I slammed a Rock Star energy drink, while Flogging Molly blasted on my stereo (have to get into the St. Patty’s day spirit). I stepped into my apartment around 4:30 a.m., packed my bag for the tourney, and was asleep by 5 a.m. I was then shocked back to life by my alarm clock at 7 a.m. CLEAR! Breakfast, shower, and back in the Jeep by 8 a.m. to make my quick drive across the Bay Bridge.

I arrived at the playing site and came upon a strange discovery; the tournament was being contested in an abandoned hangar at the Naval Base. Good times! Now, I haven’t played competitive volleyball in two years, so needless to say there were some cobwebs to shake out. After an awkward first match I regained my old form and our team, The Barnburners, won the whole tournament. I won’t give you all the details, but I will say it was great to be back on the court with my old teammates, who I hadn’t played with for two years.

Before we continue, remember what day it is: St. Patty’s!

Between each volleyball match I was getting calls and text messages from my SF friends to come join them for pints in North Beach. Side note: (It is quite ironic that the largest St. Patrick’s Day celebration in SF takes place in its largest Italian neighborhood, but that works out just perfectly for an Italian-Irish boy like yours truly.) Fresh off the taste of victory, my teammates and I grabbed some Guinness, and headed back to my place to get the party started. We watched the end of the March Madness games for the day, and then threw Boomdock Saints. We also played some poker for fun and downed Car Bombs and Guinness.

Finding a taxi into North Beach was not an easy task, but when we did find one the cab driver was cool enough to let six people squeeze in for the ride. Upon our arrival, we hopped into a house party at my friend Michelle’s and went straight to the rooftop, which features an awesome view of the bay and Alcatraz. We then headed into North Beach for some dinner; at a Mexican restaurant! That’s right; I had Mexican food for dinner, in an Italian neighborhood, on an Irish holiday. Fiesta!

Then the pub crawl began. Things were going well, but every bar we went into had an uncanny ability to be shut down by a bar fight. The first one went out into the street before the place shut down; while the second place was shut down after a skirmish broke out during a game of billiards. That led me to Irish pub number three, where none other than Charlie Murphy was having a drink at the bar. I walk in and immediately blurt out, “Charlie Murphy!” like I’m the late Rick James. He turns in my direction and shoots me a grin that shows some mild amusement. But that same grin tells me I better think twice before walking up and asking him, “What did the five fingers say to the face? Slap!” It was a hilarious end to a fun, but long St. Patrick’s Day.

After last call, a late night snack, and a cab ride home, my head finally found a pillow around 3 a.m. For those of you keeping track at home that is 41 hours awake and 2 hours asleep for me since I woke up to watch March Madness games at 9 a.m. on Friday, March 16.

Coming soon to a blog near you: St. Patrick’s Day Part II, Charlie Murphy’s stand-up routine, and why I hate tow trucks in SF.