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The Coolest Key Ring in the World

I’ve been enjoying my family and sleeping in the same bed for five straight nights, so I apologize about not having written anything since concluding the Matusow-Grizzle saga. You have to admit, though, that it makes for great Halloween-season reading. Hope you enjoyed it. I’ve also been proofreading my way though the FULL TILT TOURNAMENT EDITION manuscript (500 double-spaced pages) and tying up loose ends. (I’m writing bios of the players and trying to get Chris Ferguson to realize that November 6 is truly a final date for making major changes, though I’m telling this to a guy who spent 13 years on his dissertation.)

But I have to pass along at least two things, more if something strikes me and I have time before picking up Val at school.

1. Enigma Man

Matt Parvis, my editor at BLUFF, asked about my possibly doing a profile of Allen Cunningham. It’s on a tight deadline but I was especially intrigued because, while Cunningham general shuns publicity and hasn’t exactly been begging BLUFF to “come on in,” he said he would consider it if I wrote the profile. Naturally, I’m extremely flattered. Funny thing is that I’ve never spoken to Allen Cunningham, not even to discuss the weather. I had a number of questions for Matt and am still waiting to hear ….

2. The Coolest Key Ring in the World

Phil Ivey, and not because he supposedly owns or owned a $500,000 MacLaren (the gullwing-titanium Mercedes) and supposedly owns or owned a Bentley with video-game consoles in the headrests.

I never got a chance to tell this during the Andy Beal games but it’s a very neat little detail.

He was playing Andy Beal in the morning. Second day of the matches. First a.m. match. Ivey looks like he is having trouble staying awake at the start, and Beal seems very much in control. Phil fishes in his pockets and takes out his keys, tossing them on the felt to his left. A lot of stuff accumulates alongside the players and this makes sense: sitting there all day, having your keys in your pocket can be an annoyance. There is plenty of room at the table.

I notice lots of little stuff like this: Ted Forrest’s cell phone, which looks like a piece of lumber compared with modern models; Jennifer Harman’s golden sunglasses; Doyle Brunson’s Godfather-ring tone; Andy Beal’s shaving kit.

And now this key ring.

It’s a simple oversized ring, completely unadorned. It has about 20 keys on it, the sort of thing that would became, literally, a pass in the ass if you kept them in your pocket all day. The keys are simple tin keys, all nearly identical.

Safe-deposit box keys.

My mind races: Bellagio, Borgata, Crown in Australia, the Commerce, the Aviation Club in Paris. Who knows where else?

That little pile of tin, looking like a janitor might attach it to a chain and hang it from his belt without attracting notice, had to be worth five or ten million dollars.

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