Jokers in the pack

THE PLAYERS

Hannibal ‘The Cannibal’ Buress

Experience: “I played once in a casino”

Temperament: Seemingly bored, but fiercely competitive

Also seen in: My Name is Hannibal: The Hannibal Montanabal Experience , Pleasance Courtyard

 

The Toby Team: Sarah ‘Scarer’ Daykin and Lizzie ‘Busy’ Daykin

Experience: “Our dad tried to teach us once”

Temperament: Slightly dipsy, occasionally completely la-la

Also seen in: Lucky, Pleasance Courtyard

 

Adam ‘Unimaginable’ Riches

Experience: “This is my first ever game”

Temperament: A card shark in ingenue clothing

Also seen in: Bring Me the Head of Adam Riches, Pleasance Courtyard

 

And keeping them on the straight and narrow: Andre ‘Victory’ Vincent

Experience: “I’ve entered a few tournaments but never come anywhere”

Temperament: Kindly uncle with a killer instinct

Also seen at: Pokermen, Assembly

 

“Oh yeah, that’s how easy it is,” grins the aptly-named Adam Riches, greedily pulling an enormous heap of chips towards him, having just won a mighty pot at Texas Hold ‘Em. “Although, to be honest,” he then admits. “I’m not entirely sure what I just did.”

It’s a weekday lunchtime, mid-Fringe, and ensconced in the back room of a backstreet bar are five comedians hunched over a black-clad table and bargaining away their fortunes. OK, so that’s a lie, as they’re actually just playing for plastic chips, but lots of other stand-ups are getting properly vexed about poker at this year’s fest.

At the head of our table is Edinburgh legend Andre Vincent, the host of Pokermen, which provides a rare opportunity for regular punters to see what goes on behind comedy clubs’ black curtains. Each night at the Assembly, Vincent invites three fellow comics to play cards, talk freely and occasionally get very cross about it all. Cards and standups aren’t always the best of bedfellows.

“It can get ugly, and we’ve had a bit of it,” he says, giving an example of one particular comic who “got the hump” with the audience after being knocked out. “It all got a little bit spiteful.”

Is it the game or the money that causes such angst? To find out we’ve invited Vincent, his regular croupier—fellow comic Ria Lina—and four hand-picked guinea pigs. Chicagoan standup Hannibal Buress is the only one who has ever actually played before. Character comic Adam Riches has a dim awareness of the rules, while sisters Sarah and Lizzie Daykin—aka Toby—haven’t the foggiest.     

First up we need a quick run-through of the rules from Ria then, after which it’s eyes down and some fairly relaxed opening exchanges, which is generally the way of things. Pokermen is really a chat show with a twist, and the perfect environment to keep standup egos in check, reckons Vincent. “A comic can’t help it. If someone’s telling a story they try to add something or chip in. But when you do this, people can actually start telling stories because the others are too busy with their cards, thinking ‘how much do I bet here?’ The competition is on the table.”

Our competitors’ approaches become apparent early on. Vincent acts as the avuncular elder-statesman, while also clearly itching to win. Hannibal looks seriously bored, but watches closely. The affable Riches pleads ignorance but is a definite dark horse. And the siblings play as a team, consulting each other and the rule card on a regular basis. The latter system may not look overly professional, but it works, as against all odds they take the first hand.

 “To the ladies!” laughs Vincent, as the girls whoop. “So where did you two meet?” he goes on, shifting into chat-show mode while also making plain his lack of researchers. “I was solo for about two and a half years,” deadpans elder sister Sarah.

Does Vincent ever let novices play the real late-night game? “Andrew Maxwell could not play for love nor money,” he says, grimacing slightly at the memory. “Audiences usually support the people who can’t play, but it got down to him and Thom Tuck, and it was on the "river" card that Thom Tuck took it, and the place just went up. It was great.” 

This isn’t the most fluent game of Hold ‘Em you’ll ever see, certainly early on, as Ria is forced to explain practically everything that’s happening, but they’re soon taking it seriously. Hannibal’s inscrutable style seems to be paying off, as he’s way ahead on chips, but there’s a dramatic swing as he loses a heap to Adam after an unsuccessful bluff. “Should’ve brought my sunglasses,” smiles Buress. Meanwhile something has re-emerged from the deepest recesses of Riches’ mind. “Years ago I had a Commodore 64 and I had a poker game so I thought I’d learn how to play then become a pro,” he recalls, “having just seen the Cincinnati Kid or something.”

It’s beginning to get nicely competitive, despite the absence of cash, and with all four invited guests playing at the Pleasance Courtyard there’s even a hint of one-upmanship about how hot their rooms are. At Pokermen proper they play for their appearance fees, £60 a go, so there’s a £240 pot to be won: a useful payday if your show is losing heaps of cash every night. Things can get tense. “I won three nights in a row and one comic thought we had something going on, that we’ve got some sort of scheme,” says Vincent. “He keeps trying to work it out.” 

It’s crunch time, the point in the regular show where the conversation dries up. Vincent and Riches go all-in with their remaining chips, and hang in there. Hannibal—once well ahead and looking every inch the card sharp—now looks vulnerable, much to the amusement of the Toby girls, despite their own precarious position.

“If you got this you could take out two people in one go,” whispers Vincent to Riches, but as the card turns he’s happy to announce that “everyone stays in!” Big cheers from the Daykins. Unfortunately, as Ria is quick to inform us, he’s completely misread it: Riches actually “won, with a straight,” and the precarious trio are out. The girls cry out in anguish. “I’m upset right now,” says Buress, and he looks it.  

The poker bug has bitten them, which isn’t always healthy, and Vincent tells us a few horror stories of fellow comics’ struggles with gambling. There’s a lot of it about. Certain clubs have started putting poker tables in dressing rooms now, because “if they can get comedians to stay around they’re going to get good beer sales out of them until four in the morning. We sit there and play our wages.”

At Pokermen, which is debuting at this year’s Fringe, you get to see those competitive streaks in action. “Hardeep [Singh Kohli] takes it very seriously,” says Vincent. “He did a lot of whistling the other night, putting everyone off, whistling Raindrops Keep Falling on my Head.” Did it work? “No, not really, it just got on everybody’s nerves.”

Adam and Andre—both nearly bust earlier on—are now the last men standing. Or sitting, face to face, as the final round begins. Vincent whistles Hardeep’s song, the Toby sisters become fascinated by the nervous ticks in Riches’ shoulders, and we’re down to the final card. Adam needs a jack, Andre needs pretty much anything else, and it’s the latter who takes the prize.

 Is Riches—the one-time poker wannabe—going to turn ugly and spiteful, having come so close?

“The right man won,” he smiles. “The guy who knew how to play.” 

With thanks to the quite fabulous Voodoo Rooms who let us play poker on their premises. Find the award-winning bar and restaurant at 19a West Register St, Edinburgh, EH2 2AA; tel: 0131 556 7060; www.thevoodoorooms.com