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| Me, Dad and my brother Matt in Vegas, 2008 |
On the morning of June 23rd my Dad died of a sudden
heart attack. He was only 58, in seemingly good health and had only just got
back the night before from a holiday in Italy with his wife Carol.
Unless you've lost a parent it is almost impossible to describe the emotions that go through your mind. Initially it's shocking, heartbreaking, scary and it makes you angry - what did I do to deserve this? Why hasn't someone else's Dad died instead? Of course there are no answers to these questions, and now that time has passed I wouldn't wish that experience on anybody.
I started thinking about all the major moments in my life that I'll miss not having my Dad there for; the huge space he will leave at my wedding to Hattie next year and that he'll never meet his future grandchildren to silly things like seeing me make a major poker final table or playing in the WSOP together. Unfortunately no amount of wishing, praying or money can bring him back - even for one day - so all I can attempt to do is make him proud through my actions in life, much like I was proud of him.
Unless you've lost a parent it is almost impossible to describe the emotions that go through your mind. Initially it's shocking, heartbreaking, scary and it makes you angry - what did I do to deserve this? Why hasn't someone else's Dad died instead? Of course there are no answers to these questions, and now that time has passed I wouldn't wish that experience on anybody.
I started thinking about all the major moments in my life that I'll miss not having my Dad there for; the huge space he will leave at my wedding to Hattie next year and that he'll never meet his future grandchildren to silly things like seeing me make a major poker final table or playing in the WSOP together. Unfortunately no amount of wishing, praying or money can bring him back - even for one day - so all I can attempt to do is make him proud through my actions in life, much like I was proud of him.
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| Dad and wife Carol |
My Dad was a huge poker fan. He'd play every week in a £10 home game with at
least 5 of his siblings (he was one of 11 children) and played low stakes cash
online a few times a week. His support when I learned the game years ago is
probably the main reason I was ever able to first work in the poker industry
and eventually play as a professional. If he had been anti-gambling, judged my
intentions or failed to stake me in the early days I'd be doing something else
with my life right now.
One of my favourite memories that I'll always have is that Dad would always seem to call me right when I was in the midst of a big hand online. He'd offer to call me back but I knew that he really wanted to be given some play-by-play over the phone on what was happening - I think it was because he'd have quite fancied playing poker for a living if he'd been born in a different era.
We went to Vegas twice together, along with my brother Matt. The first time was back in 2008 because my Dad was marrying his long-time girlfriend Carol there. The wedding was fun in a Vegas type of way and then we had a great meal overlooking the Bellagio fountains afterwards at Mon Ami Gabi. We hit Vegas again in 2011 and, while I spent about 60 hours playing $2/$5 at the Venetian my Dad managed to earn almost as much money playing $1/$2 for a few hours every night at Bally's. There's a great image of him in my mind sitting on a $700 stack, a double whiskey in hand and telling jokes to the rest of the table at 4am as I walked past to go to bed. We were going to travel to Vegas together again this summer while I played some events at the WSOP. However, I went on a massive downswing and didn't make it in the end. Despite all my moaning during this period Dad was always 100% positive and encouraged me not to give up, that it would work out in the end. The next time I go to Vegas without him is not going to feel the same. I'll miss ringing home and telling him stories or taking him out to overpriced steak houses.
Playing poker has often felt like a pointless endeavour in the last few weeks. It's hard to concentrate for more than a few minutes at a time. I played in the Fox Poker Club's £275 event last Saturday and was crushing it all day, despite running bad in a ton of big pots. I made it down to the final 20 and got moved to their 'feature table', streamed live on their site. Dad always used to rib me about never having played poker on TV. I've been on to analyse poker loads of times - I've even played blackjack on there despite barely knowing the rules. Well, this was finally my time (I know it's a stretch to call the Fox website 'TV' but bear with me here). I had a top 5 stack, about 40BBs. On the second hand a guy opened and I 3-bet with AK. He just about covered me and shoved. I called and he somehow had Aces. As I got up to leave all I could picture was my Dad watching the live stream and laughing to himself before picking me up by telling me I'd get them next time.
I'm lucky to have had such a great Dad. I wish we'd had a lot more time together but I want to thank him for so many brilliant memories and all his support. I hope I can grow into half the man he was.
One of my favourite memories that I'll always have is that Dad would always seem to call me right when I was in the midst of a big hand online. He'd offer to call me back but I knew that he really wanted to be given some play-by-play over the phone on what was happening - I think it was because he'd have quite fancied playing poker for a living if he'd been born in a different era.
We went to Vegas twice together, along with my brother Matt. The first time was back in 2008 because my Dad was marrying his long-time girlfriend Carol there. The wedding was fun in a Vegas type of way and then we had a great meal overlooking the Bellagio fountains afterwards at Mon Ami Gabi. We hit Vegas again in 2011 and, while I spent about 60 hours playing $2/$5 at the Venetian my Dad managed to earn almost as much money playing $1/$2 for a few hours every night at Bally's. There's a great image of him in my mind sitting on a $700 stack, a double whiskey in hand and telling jokes to the rest of the table at 4am as I walked past to go to bed. We were going to travel to Vegas together again this summer while I played some events at the WSOP. However, I went on a massive downswing and didn't make it in the end. Despite all my moaning during this period Dad was always 100% positive and encouraged me not to give up, that it would work out in the end. The next time I go to Vegas without him is not going to feel the same. I'll miss ringing home and telling him stories or taking him out to overpriced steak houses.
Playing poker has often felt like a pointless endeavour in the last few weeks. It's hard to concentrate for more than a few minutes at a time. I played in the Fox Poker Club's £275 event last Saturday and was crushing it all day, despite running bad in a ton of big pots. I made it down to the final 20 and got moved to their 'feature table', streamed live on their site. Dad always used to rib me about never having played poker on TV. I've been on to analyse poker loads of times - I've even played blackjack on there despite barely knowing the rules. Well, this was finally my time (I know it's a stretch to call the Fox website 'TV' but bear with me here). I had a top 5 stack, about 40BBs. On the second hand a guy opened and I 3-bet with AK. He just about covered me and shoved. I called and he somehow had Aces. As I got up to leave all I could picture was my Dad watching the live stream and laughing to himself before picking me up by telling me I'd get them next time.
I'm lucky to have had such a great Dad. I wish we'd had a lot more time together but I want to thank him for so many brilliant memories and all his support. I hope I can grow into half the man he was.
really sorry for your loss. very moving post.
ReplyDeleteSorry for coming to this very late on but I saw it on another blog. My deepest sympathies mate.
ReplyDeleteThe exact same thing happened to me exactly two years ago. My old man died from a sudden completely unexpected heart attack (He was the healthiest guy I knew) and it was the biggest wake up call/suckerpunch/rug pulled from your feet thing I've ever experienced.
All I can say is it does get better. The first year is the hardest, there are all those landmark moments like birthdays, xmas etc that serve as a stark reminder of what happened. The 2 year anniversary is coming up for me, and it is in no way daunting like the 1 year anniversary.
The best thing I do to cope is try to emulate all the great qualities my Dad had as a way of honouring him - so looking after my mum, being nice to dogs, being generous etc.
All the best mate