#MaltaBOMParty

Malta is a beautiful Catholic girl, who has her hair neatly pinned up and her prayer book under her arm as she spends her days steeped in history and culture. By night, she pulls on her suspenders, cracks open the Bolly and parties like a demon till the sun comes up.

It's been a party all week at the Battle of Malta 2015, and as the Main Event and side events create victims and heroes, the fun, beer-happy environment bubble that you can depend on in a mid-buyin tournament schedule has not yet burst.

Tomorrow will see the end of play on the Main Event, and with the largest every prizepool to play for in this record breaking schedule, I came out tonight to the BOM VIP Player's Party to see if I can spot any likely candidates for a hangover-fuelled spew (chip spew or actual vomit) tomorrow.

I decided to walk to the party from my hotel, because 15 years of living in the North of England has told me that you should enjoy the outside when it's not raining. As I stroll down to the exclusive Villa club (a mind blowingly swanky, award-winning venue, overlooking Balluta Bay) I can hear the party before I see it, and I can tell it's going to be a good night.

The BOM VIP Parties have become the stuff of legends, and as I approach the front entrance, it becomes clear why. This is a turned-out venue, ladies and germs, this is the aspirational poker life that low/mid stakes players like me can usually only dream of... it is also a health and safety nightmare!

Before I even cross the threshold, I am offered a free shot (probably designed to help me grow adamantium claws as it literally glows bright green), dodge the wild feet of a pair of scantily clad pole dancers (sharing one pole!!), and lose 25% of an eyebrow to a fire artist (not gambling, I just stood too close).
The Maltese don't just party, they put on a show.

As I always do at parties, I head straight for the buffet; one simply does not cultivate a body like this from avoiding the buffets at parties. The only thing the Maltese do better than party is eat, they know their food, and I get straight into the spread of meat and sweet pastries; utter bliss.

The other good reason to hang out by the buffet is the vantage point it offers to observe the rest of the room. This event is growing year on year, and the BOM Main Event is attracting more and more pro-players and well-known poker names.

A quick chat with Dominic Panka reveals that the pro interest in this tourney is not only the huge prizepool, it's the vibe of the whole week and Malta's atmosphere that has brought him back to BOM 2015 after a double bullet last year failed to bring him a decent result.

After midnight, this party starts to get less polite.

The DJ is throwing out some dirty dub and the dancefloor is heaving, although, like most poker parties, it's possible to see corners of geeks playing Kalooki/random wacky poker variants.

The friendly atmosphere here is overwhelming, possibly due to familiarity among the high number of returning players, but in some way attributable to the well-organised schedule and down-time opportunities that the organisers have laid on.

As I try to decide between champagne truffles and some interesting looking pink sponge, I spot Alan Brincat, a local guy and runner-up in last year's BOM Main Event after a hard-stop at closing time.

I collar him for an interview, but he's having none of it, he tells me I work too hard and drags me onto the dancefloor.

Suddenly, the night doesn't feel like it's about poker. There are introductions, re-introductions, hugs and cheers.
The beer is flowing, the chandeliers are being swung from, and conversations range from football and poker to politics and art. This party is a strange and brilliant mix of people, because poker brings out all sorts, the only common ground being a love for the beautiful game.

A Maltese party night would not be complete without fireworks, and the display on the beach at 1am is spectacular; players line up, with arms linked to watch the night sky light up with shapes and colours that put the stars to shame. Many of us were transported to our childhoods as we “oohed” and “aahed” in unison.

The party is still going strong at 4am, when I have to leave, partly because I'm a bit sloshed, and partly because I know I have just eight hours until Day 2 starts.

As I walk back to my hotel, I see a large group of players, wearing nothing but BOM branded baseball caps running naked on the shore and splashing in the sea.

Don't get me wrong, this is not a pretty sight, but it is a perfect visual reminder that The Battle Of Malta is probably the most unique, party atmosphere, stand-alone poker tournament in Europe, if not the world.

I was lucky to win my seat this year, because the buyin is outside my personal roll, but if I don't win a seat next year, I'm coming back anyway, just for the party, for the camaraderie, for the pole dancers, and above all else, for the pure poker love and shared passion that was in the room tonight.

Aside from the buffet, I'm not much for parties, but this party was more than just lame drinking and dancing, this was a re-union of a family that I never even knew that I had.