Scenes From The Vic

A couple of things from last night I did want to share, sad though they may be, I found them amusing. The first is the Vic's resident lounge pianist on the second floor. I quite like it to be honest, he just tinkles away in the background fairly quietly. If you listen though, it is one hell of a mix he puts together. One of the dealers was insistent that he had been playing ringtones earlier in the evening. While I was there, among others I recognised the theme from Rainbow, which comes across remarkably well when played on a lounge piano, and Stars And Stripes which is immediately more recognisable to the football fan as the tune to "Here We Go". What's next, I mused, "Come And Have A Go If You Think You're Hard Enough" ?

Then later Dr Channing told me an amusing story from the previous week. Greg Raymer was in town doing some EPT TV stuff and, of an evening, he was ligging around various home games and the Vic. So Greg was sitting in the Vic reading a magazine and waiting for his seat in whatever game. Meanwhile most people were giving it the classic British reserved ignore-the-celebrity pose (definitely one of our better racial characteristics). As an aside, Neil confirmed the story I heard from a dealer earlier in the evening that when Doyle Brunson was in the Vic last year, everyone completely blanked him to the point that no one helped him when he was in apparent difficulty getting around on is crutches.

Anyway, back to last week, and while Greg is sitting there M-ing his own B, who is on the phone in a nearby cash game but DY. David, bless him, has a habit of talking on the phone as though no one can hear him even though, if it's a local call, the callee could probably just about hear him unaided, without having to go through all that telephone rigmarole. "YOU'LL NEVER GUESS WHO'S JUST WALKED INTO THE VIC," blares DY. At this point a mutual acquaintance, who played in a home game with Greg the previous night, catches the champ's eye and they have a quick eyebrow conversation along the lines of "Sorry about this / Don't worry it happens all the time". The instant this information has been exchanged, DY continues "DOM SUTTON !!". At this point, Greg buries himself back in his magazine. Ah fame, it's so fleeting.