...Oh, I almost forgot the point of my post. So Sunday rolls around at the end of the IPT event in Reno, and Keith knew doggone well that if he did not bring home that IPT check, well, he may as well think about hanging his hat in Reno for a spell, as far as I was concerned. The IPT events are expensive for us. I cannot imagine what a financial drain they are on our brethren overseas.
Before the finals on Sunday, the players were required to be at the tournament room, one hour before post, which, of course, they all complied with, as the vision of a big fat IPT check danced around in their heads, but as we all know today, there were no checks.
Keith has always had an uncanny ability to smell money wherever he goes. If there's prospective action in the joint, he'll find it and make it happen. You can count on it, which is why he is a popular kind of guy in some venues. He's actually kind of funny when he gets to barking, especially if he gets a game, and then there is no other place in the world that Keith would rather be than on that field of green playing for the cash.
So, as the players in Reno were exiting the tournament room with their tail between their legs, Keith zeroed in and locked eyeballs with his good friend Billy Incardone. I don't know how he knew it, but Keith knew Billy was holding pretty good. Thinking about how I was going to react if he came home empty-pocketed, Keith approached Billy with a proposition, offering him 10 percent of what he had coming, a nice fat nickel, if he'd give him the balance, with a caveat that Billy will be stuck if there are no checks are forthcoming.
Fortunate for Keith and not so fortunate for Billy at this juncture, Billy gave Keith 4,500 in cash. Keith immediately went to pay off a few creditors that he acquired during his brief stay in Reno and then brought home the bacon, which actually was a pleasant surprise to me. I believe that Billy will get paid, but he is definitely earning his $500 fee.
...
JAM
