The button moves to Andy Black. He checks his cards, mucks, hops up and limbos to the other side of the rail just six feet away. It’s cigarette time – paid for in some part by a colourful bar chart stack of 50k.

Across from him Johnny Lodden is all-in, and digging in for the wait whilst his opponent goes into a laboured spell in the tank. Liz Lieu stands up, stretching her legs, looking over at the commotion on the table next to them which gets a few players from all corners crowding round to watch either a brave or foolish man lose 60k in a single pot, calling it seems with rags. I suppose sometimes you just have to go.

Back to Lodden though, who hasn’t moved since his push which was followed by a lengthy counting process by the dealer. He has that expression on his face, one that’s obviously using all its might to avoid slapping the table and demanding someone make their mind up. But he’s a good man and simply says something along the lines of ‘please call’ - not counting on his opponent speaking not a word of English.

More waiting. The clock is called - usually enough to sway a doubter, which it does. He mucks showing A-K. Lodden shows A-K as well. The table is broken, ending this standoff, with a little over half an hour left to play.

It’s been a table of carnage on Andy Black’s patch, something he admits himself as Liz Lieu arrives to fill the vacant two seat.

He’s on his feet with the intention of speeding things up a little. Not one to pedestrianize the game Andy wants a highway built straight to the final table, and intends to fast lane his way all the way to Saturday afternoon. The clock is called on a hand, Black calls it on another...

“Are you being the trouble maker again?” She asks.

“As much as possible” replies Andy. The hand eliminates another player, forced out by a bad case of aces.

“More bodies!” cries Andy. He’ll get one soon enough. There’s now less than half an hour left on day 1b...