Most Humiliating Experience 2006 (not to be confused with Most Humiliating Exit From A Tournament 2006)
Cardiff. Morning after my Grand Prix heat. Feeling a little fragile and looking forward to getting home but I’ve got some time to kill before my train leaves.
I wandered into the breakfast area of the Hilton and a gruff Jeff Lisandro was sat at the nearest table. Now I didn’t really want a breakfast and especially a breakfast where I was gonna feel obliged to make small talk, but he’s bang in front of me and sure that by now he will have clocked me I guess I just wasn’t hardy enough to walk on by. A couple of swift pleasantries and I’ll move on was my thinking.
I mean it's not like I know the guy, but we had played in the same heat yesterday and had played a pretty big and crucial pot (for me anyway).
An awkward remark or two later the waitress approached and I asked for just a coffee please. Breakfast will be £18 she announced and by now, feeling a little embarrassed I declined.
At this point I was beginning to wonder whether he recognised me at all when, perhaps sensing the unease he asked me,
“Are you playing in the Grand Prix this week?”
Sigh. Suffice to say, I didn’t miss my train.