Inactivity apology

I'm very sorry for my period of inactivity, it has been mainly due to the fact I have been in an alcohol fuelled coma for 8 days. It was meant to be a nice relaxing trip ahead of the upcoming Vegas grind, but I now need a break to recover from the break. I shall write a full post in the next 24hrs, but I have to pop off to Malibu Vineyard for the picnic and jazz afternoon with Lady F.
They say mental preparation for the World series of poker is crucial, well I should be in great shape because I haven't used my mind, except to tell my right hand to lift beer and my mouth to swallow. Time to get civilised, and begin the countdown.
T minus 4 days, and its crush time.
as always, be lucky

The Lord

A long frustrating week

 On Tuesday, I decided I would press on with my new found golf confidence, and get an early morning round in with the usual chaps. Fresh off the back of a win last time out, I continued my new vein of good form, much to their consternation and managed to shoot an 80. This is my first ever single figure score over par(9 over), and could have been a good deal better had I not finished double bogey, bogey, double bogey. The trouble with playing like this, is that the handicap police are out in force and they try as hard as they can to get strokes off you next time out. I wish I could say I finished weakly intentionally to keep these fellows interested, but alas, I did not.
Anyway, moving on, after golf I returned to Commerce at 3pm to play the $1k tournament which had 61 players. Now, I was a little concerned prior to entering about the early wake up and a late finish but I spoke to my good friend Matt Savage, who is without doubt the best tournament director in the world, and he assured me that day 1 would be finished by 2 am at the latest.
I was sitting comfortably second in chips with 10 players left, as we went down to the final table and it was 12.30 am. Ooooh thinks Lord F, great, this will be wrapped up inside an hour and I can have a good nights sleep and come back tomorrow to try and buffer the coffers with a few more Greenbacks. A wise man once told me, 'assumptions are dangerous things to make, like bombs' (Earl Seden of Botley).
The three short stacked players all doubled up against the odds. In fact every single incident that occurred, happened at a less than a 30% likelihood for the following 4 hrs. The long and the short of it was that at 5.45 am I was the 8th man out, and for my 15 hours of play I earned exactly $0.
I was fairly miffed to say the least, and the icing on the cake was that having been up for 24 hrs and being tired beyond belief, I now had to drive home in morning rush hour traffic, which took me forty minutes longer than it should have.
I decided Wednesday would be a day of rest and recuperation. I decided to venture out and invest in a pipe, and some wonderfully flavoured cherry tobacco. It did have a very calming influence on my mood, although on the flip side, according to Lady F the pungent aroma's did get stuck in the whiskers. With pipe in mouth and the good Lady in hand, to the beach we headed. The waves crashing, the blue sky, a fine smoke and a good Lady on your arm, melted away the angst. After a wonderful stroll we filled our bellies with Boeuf Wellington washed down with a fine Malbec at a marvellous English establishment, just what the doctor ordered.

Finally I was able to start considering the lessons learnt from the previous days shenanigans. It was foolish of me to get up at the crack of dawn and play golf with the 'chance' of  a late finish, however again it was another deep run in a very competitive field. My glass will always be half full dear readers, mind you as I clambered into my bed I noticed black tar all over my feet. I must have managed to find the only two hidden patches of bitumen on the beach, and the stuff doesn't bloody well come off. (was nice having Lady F scrub my feet for an hour or so as I drifted off, that's how we Lords roll)

puff

Lord F

A California state champion

Well, for those of you who don't yet follow my tweets, I became a State champion yesterday. The $125 pot limit omaha rebuy event was won by yours truly. For those of you unfamiliar with Omaha, its another one of the many types of poker game, where you are dealt four cards instead of just two. Jolly good game, with many more different combinations to tinker with, and at the end of the day, it's still poker, and it's still a trophy. In fact a rather attractive bear, which is the state symbol of California.

Here is your first portrait of Lord F in action

Lets just hope we can turn this win into a little hot streak, and take it back to Las Vegas for the World Series of Poker.

This is why it is called Bear Hunting, and I managed to win myself a coveted bear. Its a bloody heavy little bugger, hmmmm, now to try and persuade Lady F that it will look good on the mantelpiece in 'position A' back at the stately home.

Advertising: The perils of American understanding

Having just been sat, enjoying my morning cup of tea, watching the wrapping up of the premier league football season, when this pops up on a TV commercial.

For our American cousins in the advertising world, Newcastle is a town in the north of England. Bollocks is an expletetive of the highest order, and should not be used on television before 9pm. Especially when the majority of American 'soccer' players are children under 16 years old. For the record, Bollocks are in fact the two dangling things most males have between their legs, so what this commercial is actually saying is that Newcastle is a fearful, weak place which no one would want to go to, or that its full of women.
In any case I'm pretty certain last time I checked that no beer I have ever drunk has any 'Bollocks' anyway.

Make of that what you will

Lord F

Going Loco down in Myrtle beach(doesn't quite have the same ring to it)

Well folks, mark down the date, the 11th of May 2012 is a historic day in the life of Lord Furnival. I finally, at the 10th time of trying won on the golf course.
Whilst it might seem that it has all been part of an elaborate hustle, I can confirm that it has not, and that finally I am beginning to strike the ball well. Actually, had it not been for the fact that I still had the finesse of a raging bull elephant around the greens, I might have even posted better than I did. Still, thoroughly enjoyable to win a few greenbacks to put towards the Myrtle beach trip I have coming up. A fairly unknown quantity this golf tournament I have been lured into playing. The only things I know for sure, are that each of the 48 participants will be trying to fleece me of my dollars, I won't be able to understand any of the Southern Carolina drawl, and the average age of Myrtle beach is 71. Let us see what they make of Harris tweed, red corduroy and the Queens English I say.  Lord F is going to go down a storm, but I shall need to have my wits about me, me thinks.

I am taking a few days off from the tournaments which have been ruling my life, to make sure I don't start talking to shadows, or trying to communicate with the mother ship. They are very mind numbing, the lengthy periods of concentration combined with the senseless table chatter one has to endure. Sun, golf and Lady Furnival should take care of the R and R, then back to the grindstone on Monday. OOOH, that reminds me, Lady Furnival Roast luncheon on Sunday, I will definitely let you all know about that (I would argue that hers are the best in all of the lands), what a way to end the weekend.

Be Lucky

Lord F

A shorter post

As soon as they hear my accent, many fellow competitors automatically chirp up with, "where you from? Australia?"
To which I politely reply, "Gosh no, dear chap, England. It's a little island in the North sea."
Well this is always greeted with a confused look, but most of them catch on in the end.
The next two questions are always, "do you support Manchester? And who are the new bands on the scene?"
I suppose there could be worse things for our country to be famous for amongst our American cousins, and I'm not about to start explaining that there are more than two football teams in Manchester. It would better to be famous for amazing history and fine cheeses but anyhow, I digress.

Whilst I wouldn't necessarily say that I am a music guru, I have been known to growl along to Shaggy, or tweak my whiskers to the spice girls in my time. I have found a band, kind of a 'folk rock' if you like. They might be a smite too 'gospel-y' but they get the thumbs up from Lord F!
Give them a try, 'Dry the river'

Be lucky

The British Empire

I have definitely noticed my postings are coming fewer and further between, and I'll be honest, I'm not happy about it. There are one or two rather feeble reasons, which don't do you readers any justice, so I'm not going to dwell on them. I think I am going to post smaller, more regular pieces as well as the longer more detailed accounts.
I have been playing, rather ALOT. It is tournament time here in the West, and the colourful city of Commerce has been sucking the life out of me, but there have been some amusing moments.
So I was sitting quietly, minding my own business (well, trying not to listen to the needless drivel one has to put up with at the table) when this chap across from me yells, 'I've got it!' and points his scrawny index finger at me. Well thinks I, I can't just ignore this fool, and so quip back, 'ahhhh, good sir, and what do you have?' and then mutter quietly, 'the clap?'
The greatest thing about the dry sense of humour we Brits have, is that a good deal of the people who live here, don't get it, added to which they never understand me anyway, but unabated he continued, 'you remind me of one of those English Lord's who colonised our country'. Cue a wry smile from Lord F, I tell you these whiskers are a jolly powerful tool.
'you just never know who might turn up at a poker table dear fellow, and which part of the empire do you happen to be from?' And as innocently as he had thrust his finger at me, he began telling me all about the British and our colonisation of Russia. Marvellous I thought, he's a stark raving loony because I'm pretty sure Russia looked far too much like hard work for us to colonise. I tell you what, he must be a fine judge of character all the same, but I switched off and went back to twiddling my moustache, with the occasional grunt.

I haven't been winning big, but I have been pretty much breaking even for the last month. It only takes one tournament to get that figure nicely up into profit, but for the time being, paying the bills and keeping a roof over the head is the priority, and that's what we're managing. I just busted one right now, and find these musings a great way to calm the nerves.
Tomorrow is another day - I wonder how many times a gambler says/thinks that in his lifetime when it doesn't quite go his way! Same thing again tomorrow, and I've got a feeling Lord F's time is coming.
'The more I practise the luckier I get' - Gary Player

Practise hard and be luckier!

Lord F

Following in the Family footsteps

I have decided that it is time to unveil the family shield and give you a brief history as to how we Furnivals obtained our Lordship. 

The First British records were found in the middle of Staffordshire, as William the Conqueror awarded land to the Norman knight Gerard De Furnival for his outstanding service in the battle of Hastings. A chip off the old block I hear you muttering.

Being a true Furnival, old Gerard had spotted that the Lord of Hallamshire, had passed and left his entire estate to his only child, young Maud a mere seven years of age. As if the vast swathe of land that he already owned wasn't enough, Great uncle Gerard demonstrated his stoic patience, in order to expand his empire. After all, what was 9 years to wait before taking the hand of young Maud in marriage, and in doing so find himself in possession of Sheffield and district and the Lordship to boot. The rest as they say 'is history'.

Well I say what a jolly good idea, I mean, if you can take the idle jibes from jealous would-be suitors, then what harm can be done by marrying into money. 

So there you have it, in six sentences. From the bravery of a wounded buffalo, the strength of a dozen elephants, the cunning of fantastic Mr. Fox and just a little bit of common sense we Furnivals had a Lordship, half of the middle of England to farm and this splendid coat of arms to swoon over.

Good job Gerald I say, and just like your expedition with William the Conqueror, I find myself over here in America fighting my own little battles, with many of the same qualities of my forefathers.

How can I fail? (oh, and pop your email address into the 'subscribe' box to the right so you don't miss any of my future posts!)

Be lucky

Lord F