A final table that went to the last card
I watched most of last Friday's tournament from the doorway of the board room, because I am not permitted to sit down and because it was worth watching.
Eleven players and one doorway
Eleven players entered the tournament, which is a good number for two tables and a decent final. Rachel Harvey explained the blinds in the unhurried way she has, and by the end of the first level, the three newcomers among them were making decisions with the confidence of people who had been told that nothing could go badly wrong.
The two tables merged at about nine. A retired forester sat opposite a schoolteacher, a young mechanic and a woman who had driven in from the lakes that afternoon and had never before played for anything, not even a name on a board. She said she was only there for the soup, and she played as though she were not.
I stayed in the doorway because it is where I can see the whole room. Denise brought me tea, and I held it without drinking it, as I do on tournament nights. The lamp over the final table made a bright circle on the baize, and the room around it was dim and quiet and attentive.
The last hands
A slow duel
The final two were the forester and the woman from the lakes. Rachel dealt slowly so that the room could follow, and every card was turned with a small pause. The forester was ahead for the first half hour, but she took a pot with a pair of threes and a steady nerve, and the lead changed hands twice before the end.
The last card
The final hand was decided on the last card. She held two kings; he held an ace and a ten of the same suit, and the board had given him four of that suit by the fifth card. The room held its breath, the last card was a heart, and he had the flush. The forester was the Champion of the night, and his name was written on the board.
What I noticed
What I remember best is what happened afterwards. The woman from the lakes shook his hand, Rachel put the cards away in the strongroom and nine people stayed on for tea. Nobody had won anything, and nobody seemed to mind. That is the whole argument for the tournament, and I have never needed a better one.