There are two reasons why I question my sanity.

    Firstly because the wife and I are currently staying with my mother-in-law and secondly I’ve decided to enter the donkey sanctuaries that are otherwise known as online freeroll poker tournaments.

    The day started well with the sun rising slowly over Castle Dracula and the only blemish on my otherwise cloudless horizon being a fight for sofa position with the cat. Sometime during the night I must have decided to try my hand at free tournaments, which is odd because the only dream I can remember involved Angelina Jolie and a bucket of whipped cream.

    The premise is simple, start with $0, enter freeroll tournaments and win $10; use the winnings on low value tables and double up every day until I’ve got enough to play the higher value ones and eventually convert the whole lot to $10,000.

    Chris Ferguson (2000 World Poker Champion) managed it so it should be a piece of cake.

    Easy, eh?

    Sadly not, it would be easier to thread a sausage through the eye of a needle, which worryingly invokes images of the previous nights dream.

    Freerolls regularly have more then 10,000 entrants and getting to $10 is something akin to reaching the final table at the World Series of Poker main event. However, the WSOP tends not to involve that many lunatics whereas freerolls are littered with more weirdoes than a Scientology convention at a Halloween party and this makes life somewhat infuriating.

    So, having removed the cat amidst a hail of flying claws and projectile spitting, I take my place for the first freeroll of the day. This is a Ladbrokes $250 event with only 2612 starters and my strategy is simple: stay out of trouble and only bet on premium starting hands.

    The game starts and immediately three donkeys stop grazing and decide to go all-in on the first round. A-K suited and a pair of tens are up against 5-3 of clubs. The 'flop' reveals 2-6-K rainbow and at least one player pricks his big hairy ears forward. The Jack of diamonds 'turn' is no help and the four of spades on the 'river' gives Shrek’s best friend a straight. Sadly this is indicative of the shape of things to come.   

    I sometimes wonder if these maniacs are part of a mass 'care in the community' program and only allowed access to the Internet as part of their therapy.

    Clearly I have to be a lot more careful than first anticipated and wait eleven hands before I flop trip Jacks and double up against two pair. Bear in mind even this was lucky. Every (and I do mean every) hand saw at least two players go all-in, more often than not with rubbish pockets or very weak drawing cards so the bad beats were frequent. So, rather than poker, these morons were really playing some kind of 52 card lucky dip and as such I’ve devised a new game for them.

    It’s called “Lottery Penis Poker”.

    The rules are quite simple: every player strips naked and is herded into a large swimming pool. Half of the participants have their genitalia smeared with salmon pâté while the rest are given a small fishing net. A school of piranhas are then released into the water. The winner is the first person to get out of the pool with their wedding tackle undamaged.

    Maybe not much to do with poker but neither is the way these individuals play the game.

    I don’t know about you, but I think every decent poker player on the planet would pay to watch it. There is also an added bonus; with their organs removed (or partially consumed by carniverous fish) they would be rendered incapable of reproduction and therefore an entire future generation of crap poker players would be avoided.

    If ESPN wants to pick up a two-season option on this exciting new spectator sport, I’m open to offers.

    Anyway, I’d managed to increase my stack to just fewer than 4,000 chips after forty minutes and the field is down to almost 1,000. The donkeys are still roaming freely and I’m dealt pocket Kings in the small blind. Just two callers match the big blind so I raise to 400 hoping to keep some customers. Sure enough there’s an all-in and I have no option but to call. The other two fold and I find myself up against 3-8 off. Yep, you read correctly, he went all-in on virtually nothing pre-flop; I could kiss the screen. The flop comes down Q-4-Q and for a moment I almost consider stroking the sweet little fluffy cat that is now curled up at my feet gently snoring. However, unbelievably the turn and river show the eight of clubs and, yes you’ve guessed it, the eight of hearts.

    With a remarkable sixth sense, the cat (now a dirty, flea bitten, revolting, mangy thing) slinks out to avoid being the object of any retribution leaving me screaming into the laptop.

    I resort to a cigarette and large glass of bourbon instead.

    There’s another Ladbrokes freeroll at midnight (this time for $500) and with any luck most of the donkeys will have had their straw changed and be safely sleeping in their stables by that time so I’ll have another stab then. In the meantime I’ll let my heartbeat revert to its normal rhythm and rest quietly until registration time.

   Oh well, not the most auspicious of starts but at least I can reflect on the commercial possibilities of franchising “Lottery Penis Poker”.

Starting bank:  $0.