Don't Pass Go

I used to love Monopoly when I was a child, and purchasing Mayfair was always my primary goal. These days, and despite my limited bankroll, just being in Mayfair rekindles those memories and makes me feel unjustifiably flush. So, when I found myself invited to the exquisite Les Ambassadeurs Club deep in the heart of Mayfair, I couldn’t help but brush the dust off my shirt, polish my shoes and make my way down the Piccadilly Line.

Last time I was here, Tom Dwan was taking on the world in his Durrrr Million Dollar Challenge, a Full Tilt sponsored show that aired on TV a week or two ago. As an establishment renowned for its high stakes cash games and high profile names, this seemed like the perfect match. Today, however, the setting was different, and Les A (as it is more commonly known) was playing host to the Mansion London Open Poker Tournament, a £2,000 No Limit Hold’em freezeout boasting an estimated prize pool of £100,000.

Whilst this new venture may appear, on the surface, to be unfitting of Les A’s reputation as a high-rolling cash game jaunt, Cardroom Manager Craig Stevens was quick to express his intentions for the future. “It’s not a one-off,” he explained. “I have plenty of tournaments like this planned for the future. We don’t do regular tournaments, but this isn’t the first either as we held the Chips For Chatiry PokerStars event not too long ago. Terry Wogan was the host and we had a number of familiar names here such as Sam Torrance and Clare Balding. I want people to know that Les Ambassadeurs is the place to come and play, and we have some well known poker pros coming down today.”

My day didn’t enjoy a smooth start. Having arrived at 4.15pm, I was informed that the doors didn’t open until 5pm, and asked to return then. With the rain spitting venomously from the skies, I searched for a coffee shop to kill some time, but there was no Starbucks (Nero, for the connoisseurs) in sight, and I didn’t feel comfortable bowling into the Hilton for a cuppa. So, for 45 minutes, I found shelter in a nearby bus stop and waited patiently for the time to pass. There was this elderly chap in my hometown who used to spend all day, every day, at a bus stop, never catching a bus, instead just jotting down the registrations of any car that passed. Despite his lack of motive, police would still come to him if they needed some information, and what he provided would sometimes lead to an arrest. For those 45 minutes, I felt like him, except less useful.

When the clock struck five, I darted back towards Hamilton Place and headed towards what is mysteriously known as ‘The Red Room’, a title worryingly reminiscent of Twin Peaks. But if any cardroom warrants a fancy name, then it’s this one. At the door is a security guard, keenly surveying the area for any unwanted clients. Beyond him is a steep staircase that leads down to a receptionist who took my name and alerted the powers that be I’d arrived. Whilst I waited, I spotted a strikingly good-looking lady perched by the entrance, dressed elegantly in a red uniform that was more akin to an air stewardess than a poker tournament, but it was a nice touch nevertheless. I particularly liked her extraordinary small hat.

Another room along and we arrived at a cardroom where an array of smart, black poker tables waited patiently with a bar located adjacent to soothe (or encourage) any of those potential bad beat stories. I was quickly invited to set up my laptop in a far room where the dealers were being addressed by the cardroom manager. Craig, a man clearly an advocate of organisation and thoroughness, told his entourage that he wanted the next two days to go as smoothly as possible, and that if anyone had a problem, they should raise a paw. He then proceeded to clarify a number of contentious issues that seem to form those grey areas of poker they we despise so much: string betting, calling for the clock, exposing hands, showing at showdown, and so on. Plenty of issues were raised, and it was clear that until the game finds that governing body, prematch discussions like this would always be a necessity, whatever the location.

It was still early doors, but a couple of players were beginning to dribble in, perhaps lured in to an early appearance by the venue's plush surroundings. Vic regular Charalambos ‘Bambos’ Xanthos was the first face I saw, still bearing the irremovable smile from his recent heads-up win. “I live in Woking so don’t come here too often,” he said, “but I like this place. It’s certainly better than sitting in traffic.” A few moments later, I hear the gravely vocal chords of Peter Gould – likely tailed by son and fellow high stakes pro Josh – followed by everybody’s favourite cheeky cockney Greekfish, known to his parents as Andrew Andreou. “This is a bit high profile for you, isn’t it, what you doing here?” I wittily (that’s about as witty as I get, I’m afraid) poked. He absorbed my insult with a smile, as I knew he would.

There were 45 minutes before kick-off, but 85 players had already confirmed their seat, and Craig assured me that he had another 20 or 30 “on their way”. One of those was Roland De Wolfe, a former journalist who now boasted near super star status in the poker world. Having just finished fifth in the Premier League final, he will have been in contemplative, if not disappointed spirits, but being the amicable, sociable spirit he is, was more than happy to speak to me over the phone about his recent excursion and his thoughts on the lavish Les Ambassadeurs Club.

Read Part Two...

Also see our daily reports from the Full Tilt Million Dollar Challenge:

Les Ambassadurrrrs – Day One
Les Ambassadurrrrs – Day Two
Les Ambassadurrrrs – Day Three