Walking home was no longer an option, so Ava and I jumped in a cab and got home with just a few minutes to spare. “You have 26mins before late registration closes,” he insisted. I felt guilty, but I had no interest in playing that day.
However, I was out collecting my daughter from school, and nowhere near my laptop. I'm a science writer, not a professional player, and had taken up the game initially as a hobby, but then started to study it in earnest to help me research a non-fiction book about how poker can enhance your critical thinking. It had a whopping first prize of $10,000 (£7,000/€8,250), and he thought it would be good practice.
This was the third time in two days that Philipp Kiefel, my poker coach, had asked me to sign up to play in a specific online tournament.
One dark December afternoon, a message on my phone lit up like a warning signal.
