Despite having traveled constantly for the past few years, the 320-mile journey to Glasgow still isn't considered to be just up the road. However, when Dave "El Blondie" Colclough asked me to help promote a new cardroom he was involved in, I earmarked my next free weekend and began to arrange satellites so that we could take a coach load of players. Three months later, the said weekend arrived. Unfortunately, Dave could not attend, having another commitment with the university league; we poker players can calculate pot odds within seconds, but can't double-check our diary dates!
The coach journey began well, and we were soon in Scotland. A half-hour later as we approached Glasgow, we got lost and weren't helped by a passerby, who, when asked how he gets to the Cincinnati Club, replied, "My brother takes me." While the driver was gone to get directions, I began a story of my last time in Glasgow, 29 years ago, when I was on another coach trip for a football match. Myself and a couple of known football fans stopped for a drink at the first pub we saw, The Wee Man. Being 18, a little arrogant, and with two other hard fans, I managed to get us all barred. The publican came over and asked what we wanted to drink. When in Rome, I thought, and ordered a scotch. When he came over to ask for the 37p, I pointed out that he had asked what we wanted to drink, and we were very grateful, and if we ordered another round, I would buy him one back.
"37p or I'll go and get some help from the lounge," he said. Now, I knew the lounge was empty, and finished my scotch.
The landlord then threatened that if I didn't pay, he would bar me for life, with the promise that he never forgot a face.
Twenty-nine years later as we are traveling around lost in Glasgow, I spot The Wee Man, and we decide to stop for a drink. The landlord comes straight up to me and tells me I'm barred. What for? Now, my 22-year-old son is with me, and he informs him that we have never been to Scotland before."
"I never forget a face. I can't remember why, but you are barred," the landlord replied.
"Honestly, sir," said my lad, "we've not been here before."
The barman apologised, saying, "You must have a double."
"Can you make it a scotch?" I asked.
Seriously, we all had a great weekend and were made to feel very welcome at the Cincinnati Club. A big thank you to all the staff and players; hopefully we can make this a yearly event and build on it. 