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Often I have told my friends that they are free (even encouraged) to write contributions for my blog (topic permitting). Once someone wrote an application for a teaching position that I included in a post a long time ago. Since then, no one has been game (brave?) enough to take up the challenge.

Until now.

You’ve read about him, you’ve seen him once or twice (and with some posts to come, a couple more times), and some of you even know him. Andrew is one of my few friends, and one of the fewer I still talk to from school days. He’s proven himself a very capable writer in the past in activities that he and I have taken part in, and now he has taken up the challenge of writing a blog post.

It is, as he called it, an editorial piece. The topic? You’ll find out soon enough. Suffice to say, it’s a good piece that I’m glad to have up on my blog. Some people might find it interesting, others may find it surprising (in a sense). But enough from me. This isn’t my post.

Thomas.

And Now For An Editorial Reply …

“The 18 Cup … from one mans kleptomaniacal fairytale to poker player’s dream, the tournament of pseudo poker kings and amateurs has evolved … well … very little from its beginnings. It has, however, become the staple of many a Friday night as the gang all strive to not go out first (oh, and to win the cup of course).”

I wrote these words on August 28, 2006, at 2 in the morning, and, since then, much has changed. For one, Australia has a new Prime Minister in the man I affectionately refer to as K-Rudd. Also, in that time, Saddam Hussein was executed, Steve Irwin was felled by a stingray and Star Wars turned the big 3-0. But all of these paled in comparison to the rise and fall of The 18 Cup.

Now, The 18 Cup was last defended in January of 2007 by Thomas (of WordPress blog and jet-setting fame), before being taken overseas, along with the champion, on his jaunt across Europe. There it was defended against random strangers in England before returning home, slightly dinged after a fall from an Italian balcony. It was at that time that a new game became the popular choice amongst the Sojourn folk: 500. For those that don’t know what 500 is … go ask Thomas, because I refuse to even try and explain the rules, lest I confuse myself and all around me. But, suffice to say, it became the more popular game amongst those in the group who would make decisions, and therefore the noble game of poker was seen as old hat and “rested” according to one of said decision makers (I believe he has made comment-appearances on this blog as the St Ives Correspondent).

Flash forward to March 2008, The 18 Cup has not been defended in over a year, partially due to 500’s popularity (and, as 500 is a team game, it’s too hard to put The Cup on the line for one persons victory … like hell anyone would share Cup glory!) and partially due to the groups splintering, or, more accurately, imploding.

Calls to play poker would fall on deaf ears, as the 500-ites longed to play into the night, hoping for that elusive misère hand that would spell doom to the opposition side. People had forgotten what the card nights had been formed for in the first place: To play Poker for the glory and prestige of being the holder of The 18 Cup. To feel, if for 1 brief week only, like the cock of the walk, and to walk with a swagger in your step as you recall the skill and talent you used (or at least believed you used) to wrestle The Cup from its Thomas-stronghold for those short 7 days.

And then relationships became the focus for majority of the group, and dear reader(s) don’t look for a hint of bitterness in my writing because you will find none. The Ombudsman would sporadically re-appar from his Menindee spider hole, to bring a lighter mood to weekly events that had started to feel like an obligation more than a friendly gathering. But his cameos became few and far between, and tensions between the St. Ives Correspondent and the one known as the Pope (or Beldar13 I suspect on WoW) over choices made ran to the point where communications between the two were through mediators, such as Thomas and myself.

Sides were taken and battle lines were drawn over imagined slights on both sides and the very real slights that followed them. As much as I tried to retain an Ombudsman-esque neutrality, invariably I was seen as siding with Chris due to the fact he is my brother and all. Mr. Rabbit sided, at first, with the St. Ives Correspondent, but over time has decided that the best side to be on is his own - a decision I applaud and wish I myself could follow at times. Though I basically sided with Chris, my side was always keeping my ‘homeboy’ Thomas’ back on matters of organisation, etc., including 18 Cup defenses (or attempts at organising them anyway).

In the end, simply put: Everyone drifted their own ways and The 18 Cup has stayed in the same place it has occupied for over a year: The little space on Thomas’ shelf. However, that’s not to say The 18 Cup has vanished from it’s place as a symbol. It’s been all over the world (and to Queensland), and it is still seen as something important and meaningful by those who remember it, even though its glory days of defenses at Casa de McHeyman or Chateau Northcutt are far behind it. It reminds us all of those Friday nights sitting around the table, the rattle of the chips and the clink of coin on trophy. The feel of elation as you win that final hand, or the despondent feeling that followed its loss. The 18 Cup will live on for those who choose to remember its origins and its simple premise: Six guys playing for the glory of victory.

Andrew.