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It was Vegas in ’98 or ’99, January time. I’d flown out from London just before New Year’s Day for a series of tournaments at the Rio, with buy-ins ranging from $300 to $1000. Everything was going according to plan until about the second or third evening when I busted just before the bubble, queens versus ace king. I decided to quit the poker…
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This story of degeneracy takes place eight years ago when I woke up one morning, stepped outside, took a deep breath, and got real high. I screamed to the top of my lungs “What’s goin’ on?” Much to my surprise, a black Cadillac in the neighborhood slowed down and pulled up right in front of me. I couldn’t see inside the tinted windows, then…
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One time I was sitting in my house on my own, thinking about how a single Saturday morning in Durham destroyed my life. It was 2006, and I had just £2 left in my pocket from the night before. I was a 19-year-old professional cricketer with a year left on my Northamptonshire contract. Life was perfect. I’d never placed a bet before. I walked…
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