There is an excellent article by Phil Gordon over on ESPN dot com in which he wrote about the WPT's accelerated final table structure. Its a must read for anyone who plays or watches tournament poker.
In related news...The Bellagio Five Diamonds main event was aired last night. And the issues Mr. Gordon discussed in his article were apparent as always. It was truly an all-in-fest. Early on, there was aggressive raising pre-flop followed by check-raising all-in on the flop or turn. That’s not bad, actually. The real nonsense began about 15 minutes into the show when the all-ins started coming before the flop, leading to no action or the inevitable maple-syrup-TV-showdown.
But the most interesting moment in my opinion came when Doyle Brunson, with the shortest stack (three-handed), called an all-in holding pocket 3’s against the young Antonius’ A-2o. Antonius looked at the only other player at the table (Renhe somebody) and wondered aloud how Dolly could make the call with just 3-3. After the board missed Antonius and Doyle was stacking the chips, he posed the question to him, “How could you call with that?” Uh…hello? He’s the Godfather or Poker. Perhaps he had read on you. Sadly, he spoke to Brunson as if it was some schmuck who was lucky to even be there. You’ve got to give Texas Dolly a little more credit. I mean, come on. Look at how many nicknames he has.
Doyle handled it like the pro that he is (and we could all aspire to be like) replying, “How could you make that bet? We’re playing poker, not solitaire.” In other words, “action” is the name of the game.
SEEYa
Friday, April 28, 2006
Coffee and Yogurt
Here's how my day is going...
I got some yogurt with fruit-on-the-bottom...it doesn't have any fruit on the bottom. Why do hate me, god?
I'm also hungover. I used to go to the Yard on Thursdays with SMC and go to work hungover on Fridays all the time. And I enjoyed doing it. I'm finding out that I don't like it so much anymore. On the plus side, I've got "radio voice."
SEEYa
I got some yogurt with fruit-on-the-bottom...it doesn't have any fruit on the bottom. Why do hate me, god?
I'm also hungover. I used to go to the Yard on Thursdays with SMC and go to work hungover on Fridays all the time. And I enjoyed doing it. I'm finding out that I don't like it so much anymore. On the plus side, I've got "radio voice."
SEEYa
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
Birthday
Monday was my birthday…I don’t want to talk about it.
OK. OK. There actually isn’t much to write about. But here ya go.
Since mine fell on Monday and SMC’s fell on Tuesday, we decided to celebrate them both last weekend. Mine started on Saturday morning when I met Fred and Scott at The Greens in Valencia at 10am. Its a form of miniature golf with real grass including rough, sand, and water. You use real putters and golf balls and there are no “unnatural” obstacles like there would be in putt-putt. Its always a blast. They have a club house with restaurant and bar just like a real public course (no locker room). Unfortunately, the bar didn’t open until 11am but Fred brought a cooler and Scott parked right next to the second hole. So before we started the second, we opened some beers. Off to a good start.
We played skins for 25 cents each per hole, two-tie-all-tie, with 50 cents for low score on each 9. There are three 9-hole courses of varying difficulty. I started well, winning the first skin. Later, on the 6th hole, there was a bunker blocking the path to an elevated green. Both Fred and Scott laid up to an opening on the right side that would give them a clear path to the green. I was last to hit and decided to go for broke taking a line slightly left of the bunker, through some heavy rough, and up to the green. I barely missed my target and ended up in the bunker as my playing companions laughed at my foolish attempt. But I assured them that I would be okay from there. Scott’s first run up the hill at the green came up short and his ball rolled back past him and came to rest under a bush. Fred’s approach was too hard, sailing through the green and into some deep rough on the other side.
The back of the green was bordered by a wall of wooden posts fronting a hill. I sized up a shot and proclaimed that I would be playing it off of the back stop. Using the opposite side of my putter like a wedge, I got set for a left-handed blast and let it fly. The contact was perfect, sending the ball high over the lip of the bunker and back to the wooden posts. It rebounded with some heat and, luckily, hit the flag stick coming to rest two feet from the cup. After they missed their third shots, I made mine and took down an additional 4 skins.
I took that 9 easily. Scott would win the second and Fred the third. But after being crushed all day, Fred pulled out an overall win by taking seven skins on the last hole netting $1 from Scott and 50 cents from me. We drank throughout the play so we were all winners when you think about it.
I went home after that to get some rest as my sister would be taking some other friends (including SMC) and me to the Rainbow that night. There isn’t much to note about that night. It was just a really good time with great friends and alot of scotch.
On Sunday, my mother hosted a get-together for SMC and me with some friends and family that included wives and infants. So that party was more for my mother than it was for us. When she had asked if she could throw this party for me, I said with a roll of the eyes, “Yeah. That’s perfect. If you throw a party in my honor, make sure there are plenty of women and babies.” It turned out to be nice, though. SMC was there, of course. And Scott and his wife, Carolina brought Nick, my godson. Lewis and Denise brought their daughter Brynn. She and Nick got a kick out of each other…and no one got hurt!
I took Monday off of work for my actual b-day and, apart from a couple small chores around the house, I didn’t do anything. That was awesome. I was able to rest up and recover from the long weekend.
Of course, I know, this isn’t a very interesting post. I just need to recap what went on while I wasn’t playing poker. But there will be some card stories coming. I’ll be playing at Commerce again soon. More importantly, I will be making my return to the monthly tourney night at Paul’s this Saturday. I’m psyched about that!
SEEYa
OK. OK. There actually isn’t much to write about. But here ya go.
Since mine fell on Monday and SMC’s fell on Tuesday, we decided to celebrate them both last weekend. Mine started on Saturday morning when I met Fred and Scott at The Greens in Valencia at 10am. Its a form of miniature golf with real grass including rough, sand, and water. You use real putters and golf balls and there are no “unnatural” obstacles like there would be in putt-putt. Its always a blast. They have a club house with restaurant and bar just like a real public course (no locker room). Unfortunately, the bar didn’t open until 11am but Fred brought a cooler and Scott parked right next to the second hole. So before we started the second, we opened some beers. Off to a good start.
We played skins for 25 cents each per hole, two-tie-all-tie, with 50 cents for low score on each 9. There are three 9-hole courses of varying difficulty. I started well, winning the first skin. Later, on the 6th hole, there was a bunker blocking the path to an elevated green. Both Fred and Scott laid up to an opening on the right side that would give them a clear path to the green. I was last to hit and decided to go for broke taking a line slightly left of the bunker, through some heavy rough, and up to the green. I barely missed my target and ended up in the bunker as my playing companions laughed at my foolish attempt. But I assured them that I would be okay from there. Scott’s first run up the hill at the green came up short and his ball rolled back past him and came to rest under a bush. Fred’s approach was too hard, sailing through the green and into some deep rough on the other side.
The back of the green was bordered by a wall of wooden posts fronting a hill. I sized up a shot and proclaimed that I would be playing it off of the back stop. Using the opposite side of my putter like a wedge, I got set for a left-handed blast and let it fly. The contact was perfect, sending the ball high over the lip of the bunker and back to the wooden posts. It rebounded with some heat and, luckily, hit the flag stick coming to rest two feet from the cup. After they missed their third shots, I made mine and took down an additional 4 skins.
I took that 9 easily. Scott would win the second and Fred the third. But after being crushed all day, Fred pulled out an overall win by taking seven skins on the last hole netting $1 from Scott and 50 cents from me. We drank throughout the play so we were all winners when you think about it.
I went home after that to get some rest as my sister would be taking some other friends (including SMC) and me to the Rainbow that night. There isn’t much to note about that night. It was just a really good time with great friends and alot of scotch.
On Sunday, my mother hosted a get-together for SMC and me with some friends and family that included wives and infants. So that party was more for my mother than it was for us. When she had asked if she could throw this party for me, I said with a roll of the eyes, “Yeah. That’s perfect. If you throw a party in my honor, make sure there are plenty of women and babies.” It turned out to be nice, though. SMC was there, of course. And Scott and his wife, Carolina brought Nick, my godson. Lewis and Denise brought their daughter Brynn. She and Nick got a kick out of each other…and no one got hurt!
I took Monday off of work for my actual b-day and, apart from a couple small chores around the house, I didn’t do anything. That was awesome. I was able to rest up and recover from the long weekend.
Of course, I know, this isn’t a very interesting post. I just need to recap what went on while I wasn’t playing poker. But there will be some card stories coming. I’ll be playing at Commerce again soon. More importantly, I will be making my return to the monthly tourney night at Paul’s this Saturday. I’m psyched about that!
SEEYa
Thursday, April 20, 2006
Hump Day & Full Moon Fever II
Continued from HD & FMF…
Hello, my loyal 3. I have been sick for a few days. So sick, I couldn’t work up the energy to write. I’ve never been that bad before and, I’ll admit, it was a little scary. It was some kind of stomach flu from which I haven’t fully recovered. But I am well enough to be back at work which means I have time to write. So here is the conclusion of my previous post that I had promised…before I forget it entirely.
I re-bought for another $400 and, before my chips even arrived, I caught a free ride in the BB with K-To. This is one of those trouble hands that I write about. I wouldn’t play it from any position except on a bluff against weak opponents. So I normally wouldn’t touch it. But, like I said, I got a free look at the flop from my blind and you’ve gotta like that. We were three-handed on a flop of K-J-x rainbow and the SB checked. I figured I might be able to take it down right there or find out how strong/weak my hand was so I made a virtual bet of $25 into the $30 pot. Both players called. The turn was an apparent rag and, again, the SB checked. No one had tried to claim jump this pot on the flop so I continued my stake with another pretend splash of $50 into the now $105 booty. To my surprise, both players called again. These guys were the type to call one bet on a draw, which is what I figured at least one of them for after calling the flop, then go away. But with each of them simply calling on the every street, I was confused. I would have preferred one of them raise and give me reason to get away from my weak top pair. The river brought another rag and, surprise, surprise, the SB checked. But I was done with this hand. I had no reason to think that my hand was best or that a large bet would take down the pot. So any bet would only leave me open to a raise that I should not call. I checked and so did the caboose. Well, well, what do you know? The SB was slow-playing K-J the whole way. The silly bastard on my left had called down with something ridiculous like second pair. So that trouble hand got me in trouble. My chips arrived just in time to pay off the winner and I seemingly started my buy short-stacked.
I was forced to tighten up even more than usual with a hobbled single tower of chips (I likes to stack ‘em high) while several other players were getting looser every hand. As I sat patiently, I watched Mr. 3-2-bluff in the 7s get involved with a new guy in the 2s. The 2s had over $1k that he brought from a broken game, so he was ready to give action. I’ll cut to the chase (although the entire hand was a chase.) The board was A-high with one other paint card and 3-2-bluff was calling down the 2s who was making large bets. The turn brought a second A and the betting continued as before. The river brought another paint card, leaving 3 to a straight up. This time the 2s bet small and 3-2-b raised $300 more. 2s was in anguish with obvious holdings of an A with a weak kicker. He decided to make the call fearing that he was out-kicked. 3-2-b turned up J-T for the nut straight. The 2s was pissed and cursed his wild opponent under his breath for several minutes. Actually, it wasn’t under his breath. I could hear him when I was at a nearby table, talking to Keith.
Anyway, I find this very interesting. The 2s made the call on the end expecting that he might be out-kicked. If he had lost it that way, he probably would have said, “Nice hand,” and that would have been that. But because he didn’t know his opponent well enough to put him on a straight draw, he over bet against the wrong guy and had to call way to large a bet on the end to look him up. So he tilts on the suckout artist instead of learning from his own play. I learned some things from the beat I took. Like stay away from that guy during a full moon.
Things kept going bad for me with cold cards and missed flops. I found myself all the way down to $90. Then I finally picked up a decent hand in mid-late position. There was one limper ahead of me and I held As-Js. I made it $40 to go, displaying my meager stack and, hopefully, letting everyone know that I was committing myself to this pot with that raise. It turns out no one was paying attention because I got three callers. But as when anyone asks, “Do you want action,” I reply, “Always.” I could come out of this hand with a respectable amount of chips. The flop was just what I hoped for…A-high rainbow. I was last to act with both blinds and the limper having stuck around so I looked at each, waiting my turn to get the rest of my money in. The SB checked. I was watching the BB and could see that he was only concerned with the SB. It was as if he thought they were playing heads up. The pot was $160 and he lead out with about $125. The limper quickly got away and I reached for my chips but missed as they were already on their way into the pot! How in the hell? Oh, wait. I made that up. Anyway, I called and the SB folded. Now the BB looked around the table and seemed to realize at last that I was still in the hand. What a nut job.
Its rare that anyone turns up their hand in these games unless they are showing down the winner. But this time, someone else at the table announced that he wanted to see both hands. No need to wait then. I turned mine up right then. Strangely, BB still seemed to disavow my participation as he didn’t bother to look over at me or my cards and kept his hand concealed. The turn and river were one big and one little card, both hearts. The bizarre BB finally looked at my hand, then the board, then my hand again, then turned his stare to his own cards as he turned them over one at a time to display…10h, 3h. There was no ten or three on the flop. Nor was there a draw which would include either of them. But there was one heart. So he made a big bluff, apparently toward the SB only, and back-doored a flush.
Did I mention there was a full moon?
I normally call it a night if I lose two buy-ins so it was very easy to walk away after all that insanity. Before making myself scarce, I laughed and reminded everyone that was the second time that happened to me at that table. It was mostly for the benefit of the 2s so he could see another way to handle a tough beat. But he wasn’t even paying attention. No surprise really. He doesn’t pay attention unless he is directly involved in a hand, or so it seems. So he’ll probably continue to make bad bets and calls.
In response to my statement of multiple runner flushes, Mr. 3-2-b said, “At least I had a straight draw against you.” I quickly assured him with a smile, “I’m not talking about the numbers. I’m cool. Good luck guys.”
You might think a night like that would be discouraging. But I’m itching to get back. And I think I’m ready to move up to the 10-20 NL game. Some supportive words from Keith and my first heads up victory over Kid Crash (HORSE last Saturday night) might have helped me over the hump. Unfortunately, I still don’t feel well enough to drive 30 miles and sit in a game for 4+ hours. But I’ll let you know when I finally make it to the top section.
SEEYa
Hello, my loyal 3. I have been sick for a few days. So sick, I couldn’t work up the energy to write. I’ve never been that bad before and, I’ll admit, it was a little scary. It was some kind of stomach flu from which I haven’t fully recovered. But I am well enough to be back at work which means I have time to write. So here is the conclusion of my previous post that I had promised…before I forget it entirely.
I re-bought for another $400 and, before my chips even arrived, I caught a free ride in the BB with K-To. This is one of those trouble hands that I write about. I wouldn’t play it from any position except on a bluff against weak opponents. So I normally wouldn’t touch it. But, like I said, I got a free look at the flop from my blind and you’ve gotta like that. We were three-handed on a flop of K-J-x rainbow and the SB checked. I figured I might be able to take it down right there or find out how strong/weak my hand was so I made a virtual bet of $25 into the $30 pot. Both players called. The turn was an apparent rag and, again, the SB checked. No one had tried to claim jump this pot on the flop so I continued my stake with another pretend splash of $50 into the now $105 booty. To my surprise, both players called again. These guys were the type to call one bet on a draw, which is what I figured at least one of them for after calling the flop, then go away. But with each of them simply calling on the every street, I was confused. I would have preferred one of them raise and give me reason to get away from my weak top pair. The river brought another rag and, surprise, surprise, the SB checked. But I was done with this hand. I had no reason to think that my hand was best or that a large bet would take down the pot. So any bet would only leave me open to a raise that I should not call. I checked and so did the caboose. Well, well, what do you know? The SB was slow-playing K-J the whole way. The silly bastard on my left had called down with something ridiculous like second pair. So that trouble hand got me in trouble. My chips arrived just in time to pay off the winner and I seemingly started my buy short-stacked.
I was forced to tighten up even more than usual with a hobbled single tower of chips (I likes to stack ‘em high) while several other players were getting looser every hand. As I sat patiently, I watched Mr. 3-2-bluff in the 7s get involved with a new guy in the 2s. The 2s had over $1k that he brought from a broken game, so he was ready to give action. I’ll cut to the chase (although the entire hand was a chase.) The board was A-high with one other paint card and 3-2-bluff was calling down the 2s who was making large bets. The turn brought a second A and the betting continued as before. The river brought another paint card, leaving 3 to a straight up. This time the 2s bet small and 3-2-b raised $300 more. 2s was in anguish with obvious holdings of an A with a weak kicker. He decided to make the call fearing that he was out-kicked. 3-2-b turned up J-T for the nut straight. The 2s was pissed and cursed his wild opponent under his breath for several minutes. Actually, it wasn’t under his breath. I could hear him when I was at a nearby table, talking to Keith.
Anyway, I find this very interesting. The 2s made the call on the end expecting that he might be out-kicked. If he had lost it that way, he probably would have said, “Nice hand,” and that would have been that. But because he didn’t know his opponent well enough to put him on a straight draw, he over bet against the wrong guy and had to call way to large a bet on the end to look him up. So he tilts on the suckout artist instead of learning from his own play. I learned some things from the beat I took. Like stay away from that guy during a full moon.
Things kept going bad for me with cold cards and missed flops. I found myself all the way down to $90. Then I finally picked up a decent hand in mid-late position. There was one limper ahead of me and I held As-Js. I made it $40 to go, displaying my meager stack and, hopefully, letting everyone know that I was committing myself to this pot with that raise. It turns out no one was paying attention because I got three callers. But as when anyone asks, “Do you want action,” I reply, “Always.” I could come out of this hand with a respectable amount of chips. The flop was just what I hoped for…A-high rainbow. I was last to act with both blinds and the limper having stuck around so I looked at each, waiting my turn to get the rest of my money in. The SB checked. I was watching the BB and could see that he was only concerned with the SB. It was as if he thought they were playing heads up. The pot was $160 and he lead out with about $125. The limper quickly got away and I reached for my chips but missed as they were already on their way into the pot! How in the hell? Oh, wait. I made that up. Anyway, I called and the SB folded. Now the BB looked around the table and seemed to realize at last that I was still in the hand. What a nut job.
Its rare that anyone turns up their hand in these games unless they are showing down the winner. But this time, someone else at the table announced that he wanted to see both hands. No need to wait then. I turned mine up right then. Strangely, BB still seemed to disavow my participation as he didn’t bother to look over at me or my cards and kept his hand concealed. The turn and river were one big and one little card, both hearts. The bizarre BB finally looked at my hand, then the board, then my hand again, then turned his stare to his own cards as he turned them over one at a time to display…10h, 3h. There was no ten or three on the flop. Nor was there a draw which would include either of them. But there was one heart. So he made a big bluff, apparently toward the SB only, and back-doored a flush.
Did I mention there was a full moon?
I normally call it a night if I lose two buy-ins so it was very easy to walk away after all that insanity. Before making myself scarce, I laughed and reminded everyone that was the second time that happened to me at that table. It was mostly for the benefit of the 2s so he could see another way to handle a tough beat. But he wasn’t even paying attention. No surprise really. He doesn’t pay attention unless he is directly involved in a hand, or so it seems. So he’ll probably continue to make bad bets and calls.
In response to my statement of multiple runner flushes, Mr. 3-2-b said, “At least I had a straight draw against you.” I quickly assured him with a smile, “I’m not talking about the numbers. I’m cool. Good luck guys.”
You might think a night like that would be discouraging. But I’m itching to get back. And I think I’m ready to move up to the 10-20 NL game. Some supportive words from Keith and my first heads up victory over Kid Crash (HORSE last Saturday night) might have helped me over the hump. Unfortunately, I still don’t feel well enough to drive 30 miles and sit in a game for 4+ hours. But I’ll let you know when I finally make it to the top section.
SEEYa
Monday, April 17, 2006
Hump Day & Full Moon Fever
On Wednesday, I opted to “work” from home and take care of some errands that I had put off for…well…ever. It was a bit of a catharsis that I had needed. Sick of the rainy weather we’ve been plagued with of late and tired of the monotonous drive across the Valley and into Simi, I just wanted to stay home…go nowhere fast. And a great decision it turned out to be. It was the first (mostly) sunny day in a while and, as the temperature rose, so did my spirits. By the end of the afternoon, I felt as though I had been pretty productive having gone to the AAA office to renew my delinquent membership and making a trip to Bed Bath and AFewOtherThings for some stuff from the beyond section. With renewed vigor, I made up my mind to go play some poker!
I hit the 101 a little before 9pm and arrived at Commerce Casino just around 9:20pm. This would be the first poker I had played since Vegas (excluding a spontaneous home game at Paul’s) and it was long overdue. It took about 10 minutes to get on a table (10 NLH). Once again, my first table broke after a little while and I went from a 5s where I had collected some good reads and a couple tells to a 1s where I would have to start over. But allow me to begin at the beginning.
The first table was a collection of average to below-average players. I recognized a couple of them as regulars who I knew have typically decent games but also have a few leaks. As usual, my plan was to start slow and figure out the table and try to pick up some tells. I managed to avoid getting involved with a few trouble hands early on and stuck to the plan. When the time was right, I started getting involved using a tight image that I had started building from the moment I sat down. It worked to my advantage as I got action on my pre-flop raises in position and was able to take down pots with continuation bets on the flop and, sometimes, on the turn. Aggression was the key for me at this table. I wasn’t concerned with building big pots or getting all my chips in like so many other players (but they’re not all players).
The most notable hand came with pocket queens in middle position. The second player to act (P1) open raised to $35. I was next to act and decided not to get tricky especially since this was the first big pair I had seen. First of all, I put P1 on A-K and figured I would get action from him if I re-raise. So I made it $60 to go. To my surprise, a rather smart player who had earlier told me he has a Bachelors degree in psychology (Freud) called on my left. It folded around to P1 and he called as well.
The flop came Ac-Qc-9c. This has become the story of my life. If I flop a set, you can be sure there is a flush draw or made flush on the board. This is certainly a spot where one should be cautious. But P1 checked and I had an opportunity to maintain control of the hand and, at the very least, find out where I was. I sized up a bet and settled on $90 into the $195 pot. I figured if either of my opponents held a large enough club, they would call down a pot-sized bet just as easily as they would a bet of $50 or $60. But $90 seemed like a measured amount that would represent both a big hand and a big draw and keep these guys on their heels.
Freud thought about it a bit and called without much fanfare. P1 apparently had a more difficult decision. He agonized for a minute and then threw his hand away. Interestingly, I thought my bet would move Freud out and more likely be called by P1. I thought Freud had a medium-ish club before he made the call. I wasn’t any surer of that after he made the call. The turn brought a red 6 and I found myself in the same situation but now heads up. I began sizing up Freud saying, “Ahhhh, the table’s resident psychologist.” Then he started staring at me as if to say, “Go ahead and have a good look. You’re not going to get a read on me.” That was true. “Its okay. I’m just thinking,” I assured him. But I did get a slight read of weakness from him. Or maybe it was a lack of strength. I already new with him, my bets had to be deliberate or he would read weakness and come over the top. This time, I decided $100, while relatively small, was the right amount. I immediately knew that was correct as Freud went into the tank. I actually got him rattled. He thought for a good minute and a half and squirmed a bit as he almost folded but changed his mind at the last second and, reluctantly, plopped a stack of 20 chips in for the call. Then he provided me with the ultimate tell…he tabled his hand!
Ad-8c. He had top pair with a weak flush draw. Now I understood his dilemma. Everyone at the table was shocked that he had revealed his cards. Someone said, “Its only the turn,” and, looking at the board, he realized what he had done. But, being a good sport, I told him his hand was still live just in case he really lost his mind and mucked. We went on from there with the turn bringing an off-suit rag. I decided not to value bet (another act of good sportsmanship; one I won’t always make) and showed my winning set. An older gent at the table commented on how nice it was of me to not bet on the end. True, but it wasn’t as much “nice” as it was not worth it. It was already a healthy pot well worth raking in. I didn’t have to show down a hand the rest of my time at the table as I picked my spots well and made good reads on my opponents. I would peak at about $820 at that table. Then it broke.
My new table assignment landed me in the 1s. I sat down while a hand was in progress with pre-flop action under way. The first problem with arriving at a new table is having to start all over. Sure, I get to bring my entire stack over from the broken game. But I have to go back to ultra-tight mode for the first couple of rounds while I get the feel of the new group. I certainly adhered to that approach this time but I was quite proud of two reads I made as I watched the hand-in-progress. There was a raise pre-flop from a guy that just had the look of a loose-wild player. He got two callers to see a small flop with two spades. This time, it checked around and the free turn card was an off-suit Q. Now the raiser made a decent-sized bet. One player folded and the other thought for bit before calling. At this point I had put the aggressor on A-K with one spade, most likely the Ks given his check on the flop. The other player seemed like he had a weak Q. On the river, the raiser continued his lead and put out a weak-looking amount that didn’t entirely look like a value bet. The other player quickly called. They showed down Q-J for the caller and As-Qh for the raiser. I wasn’t exactly right about they’re holdings but I was pretty close, impressive, I think, having only just arrived.
The rest of my time at that table was fairly uneventful. I took down small pots here a there without showing down. And I lost a few continuation bets that I had to abandon when opponents came over the top. I hit a high water mark of $860 and concluded at $813. Not an exciting cash, but steady and profitable.
Celebrity Sighting: Before leaving Commerce on Wednesday, I decided to stop by the top section and really inspect the action at the 10-20 NLH games. I really need to prepare myself to move up there so I was going to count how much each person had in play and figure out the low and average stacks. After surveying one table, I stepped up to the second and was shocked to see KG…Kage…Rage…Kyle Gass himself. I’m used to seeing celebs playing poker. However, they usually play lower and are not a cool as KG.
On Thursday, I decided to repeat Wednesday. I worked from home and got a few small things done around the apartment. It was an even nicer day so, once again, it was a good move to avoid being trapped in the office all day. I also felt up for more poker that night. A night hosted by a full moon. Actually, I only felt okay about playing poker. I decided to go because I know I need to make an effort to play more. I know the daily work commute and long, wasted office hours affect my desire to trek through L.A. to play cards but I also need to make sure I can handle going to play regularly…even when I don’t feel great about it. If I do ever make it my “job,” I will have to do just that.
Don’t get me wrong, though. I was in a good mood on Thursday and was confident in my game. I just wasn’t in that excited, itching-to-play state. (You know what I mean.) Well, I arrived at Commerce a few minutes after 9pm. It was another busy night in the main room and I would have to wait a while to get in a 10NLH game. After sitting idly for a bit, I opted to take a seat in a 5NLH game with my name still on the board for the bigger spot. I got in the groove at the first table in quick order going through the blinds twice and picking up one pot before I was called to a new 10NLH game. I left the lower table with the amount I bought in for.
The bigger game was brand new, which was good news. We started out even and some of the players would be pretty loose as they like to get right into action. I also recognized a few of them so I already had some reads. It was, however, rather slow going for me as I found myself pretty much card-dead. In spite of that, I managed to work up from $400 to slightly over $600. Then I really got cold. I couldn’t find a hand to play for several rounds. The table was allowing many limped pots, though, so I tried to join in when I found A-x suited or a small pocket pair from early position or late if there were other limpers already in. But most times I tried to limp, one of the blinds would make a huge raise and I would have to release. So my stack slowly dwindled to $480 when the following hand went down.
Two players had wandered away for a while so we were playing kind of short-handed with 7. Since I hadn’t been able to play a hand in some time and the missing players were the main aggressors at our table, I found a good opportunity to loosen up my starting requirements and take control of the table while the taking was good. Good timing on that thought as I woke up with A-8o in the cut-off. There was one limper ahead so I raised to $35. The BB called along with the limper. The flop came a beautiful 8-5-4 rainbow. The BB and limper checked and I lead out with $50. Once again, this seemed like the right amount (coming from me) to represent strength, not just a continuation bet. Then the wheels started wobbling. The BB raised to $250! The limper folded and I found myself in a very tough spot. I knew this player could make that play with any two cards and was likely to do so in any pot against anyone. He plays on feel. So he tends to decide before a hand is even dealt if he is going to make a play at it. But he would also make the same bet having flopped a set. I twisted in my chair, scratched my head, grunted and grumbled for a good two minutes. I was lucky no one called a clock on me (its quite common there.)
Now I know better than to get married to top pair, top kicker like this. But I had good reason to consider staying in this hand. I wanted to get away from it because I had invested only $85 to the pot and it was cost the rest of my $395 to play out the hand. With $200 to call, I would be pot-committed. So it was all-in or fold for me. After running through a ton of hands that I had watched involving this player, the database was empty and I resorted to looking for a physical tell. I found one…a lack of a tell. He was very calm. No pulse showing on his skinny neck. This obviously doesn’t mean the same thing for every player but I thought he fit the standard profile: Excited state with big hands; Mellow on a bluff. That bit of info paired with everything else I new about him lead me to announce, “Okay. I’m all in.” He quickly called and I moaned, asking, “Do you have a set?” He shook his head and said, “No, a big pair.” He stared at the board as I looked incredulously at him saying, “A pair? No you don’t.” I was sure he didn’t have an over pair, even after he had proclaimed it.
The turn and river were rag diamonds and I turned up my pair of 8s with an A. He revealed his hand to show that I had made a good read and picked off his bluff. He held 3-2…of diamonds…which, along with the one diamond on the flop, gave him a back door flush. So he made a massive raise on the bottom end of an open-ended straight draw against an extremely tight player and got even luckier than he had hoped. I sat in awe, tapped, as the dealer proceeded to deal the next hand. She left me out without asking so I had time to think about the beat while re-buying and waiting for the next hand. I looked at Mr. 3-2-bluff and gave him what has become a common phrase from me…”You’re a sick individual.” Of course, it comes with a smile and laugh. I know to expect anything and everything in poker. Anger has no place.
That’s enough for now. I’ll conclude Full Moon Fever in my next post. You won’t want to miss it.
SEEYa
I hit the 101 a little before 9pm and arrived at Commerce Casino just around 9:20pm. This would be the first poker I had played since Vegas (excluding a spontaneous home game at Paul’s) and it was long overdue. It took about 10 minutes to get on a table (10 NLH). Once again, my first table broke after a little while and I went from a 5s where I had collected some good reads and a couple tells to a 1s where I would have to start over. But allow me to begin at the beginning.
The first table was a collection of average to below-average players. I recognized a couple of them as regulars who I knew have typically decent games but also have a few leaks. As usual, my plan was to start slow and figure out the table and try to pick up some tells. I managed to avoid getting involved with a few trouble hands early on and stuck to the plan. When the time was right, I started getting involved using a tight image that I had started building from the moment I sat down. It worked to my advantage as I got action on my pre-flop raises in position and was able to take down pots with continuation bets on the flop and, sometimes, on the turn. Aggression was the key for me at this table. I wasn’t concerned with building big pots or getting all my chips in like so many other players (but they’re not all players).
The most notable hand came with pocket queens in middle position. The second player to act (P1) open raised to $35. I was next to act and decided not to get tricky especially since this was the first big pair I had seen. First of all, I put P1 on A-K and figured I would get action from him if I re-raise. So I made it $60 to go. To my surprise, a rather smart player who had earlier told me he has a Bachelors degree in psychology (Freud) called on my left. It folded around to P1 and he called as well.
The flop came Ac-Qc-9c. This has become the story of my life. If I flop a set, you can be sure there is a flush draw or made flush on the board. This is certainly a spot where one should be cautious. But P1 checked and I had an opportunity to maintain control of the hand and, at the very least, find out where I was. I sized up a bet and settled on $90 into the $195 pot. I figured if either of my opponents held a large enough club, they would call down a pot-sized bet just as easily as they would a bet of $50 or $60. But $90 seemed like a measured amount that would represent both a big hand and a big draw and keep these guys on their heels.
Freud thought about it a bit and called without much fanfare. P1 apparently had a more difficult decision. He agonized for a minute and then threw his hand away. Interestingly, I thought my bet would move Freud out and more likely be called by P1. I thought Freud had a medium-ish club before he made the call. I wasn’t any surer of that after he made the call. The turn brought a red 6 and I found myself in the same situation but now heads up. I began sizing up Freud saying, “Ahhhh, the table’s resident psychologist.” Then he started staring at me as if to say, “Go ahead and have a good look. You’re not going to get a read on me.” That was true. “Its okay. I’m just thinking,” I assured him. But I did get a slight read of weakness from him. Or maybe it was a lack of strength. I already new with him, my bets had to be deliberate or he would read weakness and come over the top. This time, I decided $100, while relatively small, was the right amount. I immediately knew that was correct as Freud went into the tank. I actually got him rattled. He thought for a good minute and a half and squirmed a bit as he almost folded but changed his mind at the last second and, reluctantly, plopped a stack of 20 chips in for the call. Then he provided me with the ultimate tell…he tabled his hand!
Ad-8c. He had top pair with a weak flush draw. Now I understood his dilemma. Everyone at the table was shocked that he had revealed his cards. Someone said, “Its only the turn,” and, looking at the board, he realized what he had done. But, being a good sport, I told him his hand was still live just in case he really lost his mind and mucked. We went on from there with the turn bringing an off-suit rag. I decided not to value bet (another act of good sportsmanship; one I won’t always make) and showed my winning set. An older gent at the table commented on how nice it was of me to not bet on the end. True, but it wasn’t as much “nice” as it was not worth it. It was already a healthy pot well worth raking in. I didn’t have to show down a hand the rest of my time at the table as I picked my spots well and made good reads on my opponents. I would peak at about $820 at that table. Then it broke.
My new table assignment landed me in the 1s. I sat down while a hand was in progress with pre-flop action under way. The first problem with arriving at a new table is having to start all over. Sure, I get to bring my entire stack over from the broken game. But I have to go back to ultra-tight mode for the first couple of rounds while I get the feel of the new group. I certainly adhered to that approach this time but I was quite proud of two reads I made as I watched the hand-in-progress. There was a raise pre-flop from a guy that just had the look of a loose-wild player. He got two callers to see a small flop with two spades. This time, it checked around and the free turn card was an off-suit Q. Now the raiser made a decent-sized bet. One player folded and the other thought for bit before calling. At this point I had put the aggressor on A-K with one spade, most likely the Ks given his check on the flop. The other player seemed like he had a weak Q. On the river, the raiser continued his lead and put out a weak-looking amount that didn’t entirely look like a value bet. The other player quickly called. They showed down Q-J for the caller and As-Qh for the raiser. I wasn’t exactly right about they’re holdings but I was pretty close, impressive, I think, having only just arrived.
The rest of my time at that table was fairly uneventful. I took down small pots here a there without showing down. And I lost a few continuation bets that I had to abandon when opponents came over the top. I hit a high water mark of $860 and concluded at $813. Not an exciting cash, but steady and profitable.
Celebrity Sighting: Before leaving Commerce on Wednesday, I decided to stop by the top section and really inspect the action at the 10-20 NLH games. I really need to prepare myself to move up there so I was going to count how much each person had in play and figure out the low and average stacks. After surveying one table, I stepped up to the second and was shocked to see KG…Kage…Rage…Kyle Gass himself. I’m used to seeing celebs playing poker. However, they usually play lower and are not a cool as KG.
On Thursday, I decided to repeat Wednesday. I worked from home and got a few small things done around the apartment. It was an even nicer day so, once again, it was a good move to avoid being trapped in the office all day. I also felt up for more poker that night. A night hosted by a full moon. Actually, I only felt okay about playing poker. I decided to go because I know I need to make an effort to play more. I know the daily work commute and long, wasted office hours affect my desire to trek through L.A. to play cards but I also need to make sure I can handle going to play regularly…even when I don’t feel great about it. If I do ever make it my “job,” I will have to do just that.
Don’t get me wrong, though. I was in a good mood on Thursday and was confident in my game. I just wasn’t in that excited, itching-to-play state. (You know what I mean.) Well, I arrived at Commerce a few minutes after 9pm. It was another busy night in the main room and I would have to wait a while to get in a 10NLH game. After sitting idly for a bit, I opted to take a seat in a 5NLH game with my name still on the board for the bigger spot. I got in the groove at the first table in quick order going through the blinds twice and picking up one pot before I was called to a new 10NLH game. I left the lower table with the amount I bought in for.
The bigger game was brand new, which was good news. We started out even and some of the players would be pretty loose as they like to get right into action. I also recognized a few of them so I already had some reads. It was, however, rather slow going for me as I found myself pretty much card-dead. In spite of that, I managed to work up from $400 to slightly over $600. Then I really got cold. I couldn’t find a hand to play for several rounds. The table was allowing many limped pots, though, so I tried to join in when I found A-x suited or a small pocket pair from early position or late if there were other limpers already in. But most times I tried to limp, one of the blinds would make a huge raise and I would have to release. So my stack slowly dwindled to $480 when the following hand went down.
Two players had wandered away for a while so we were playing kind of short-handed with 7. Since I hadn’t been able to play a hand in some time and the missing players were the main aggressors at our table, I found a good opportunity to loosen up my starting requirements and take control of the table while the taking was good. Good timing on that thought as I woke up with A-8o in the cut-off. There was one limper ahead so I raised to $35. The BB called along with the limper. The flop came a beautiful 8-5-4 rainbow. The BB and limper checked and I lead out with $50. Once again, this seemed like the right amount (coming from me) to represent strength, not just a continuation bet. Then the wheels started wobbling. The BB raised to $250! The limper folded and I found myself in a very tough spot. I knew this player could make that play with any two cards and was likely to do so in any pot against anyone. He plays on feel. So he tends to decide before a hand is even dealt if he is going to make a play at it. But he would also make the same bet having flopped a set. I twisted in my chair, scratched my head, grunted and grumbled for a good two minutes. I was lucky no one called a clock on me (its quite common there.)
Now I know better than to get married to top pair, top kicker like this. But I had good reason to consider staying in this hand. I wanted to get away from it because I had invested only $85 to the pot and it was cost the rest of my $395 to play out the hand. With $200 to call, I would be pot-committed. So it was all-in or fold for me. After running through a ton of hands that I had watched involving this player, the database was empty and I resorted to looking for a physical tell. I found one…a lack of a tell. He was very calm. No pulse showing on his skinny neck. This obviously doesn’t mean the same thing for every player but I thought he fit the standard profile: Excited state with big hands; Mellow on a bluff. That bit of info paired with everything else I new about him lead me to announce, “Okay. I’m all in.” He quickly called and I moaned, asking, “Do you have a set?” He shook his head and said, “No, a big pair.” He stared at the board as I looked incredulously at him saying, “A pair? No you don’t.” I was sure he didn’t have an over pair, even after he had proclaimed it.
The turn and river were rag diamonds and I turned up my pair of 8s with an A. He revealed his hand to show that I had made a good read and picked off his bluff. He held 3-2…of diamonds…which, along with the one diamond on the flop, gave him a back door flush. So he made a massive raise on the bottom end of an open-ended straight draw against an extremely tight player and got even luckier than he had hoped. I sat in awe, tapped, as the dealer proceeded to deal the next hand. She left me out without asking so I had time to think about the beat while re-buying and waiting for the next hand. I looked at Mr. 3-2-bluff and gave him what has become a common phrase from me…”You’re a sick individual.” Of course, it comes with a smile and laugh. I know to expect anything and everything in poker. Anger has no place.
That’s enough for now. I’ll conclude Full Moon Fever in my next post. You won’t want to miss it.
SEEYa
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
The Work/Life Rant
I wrote the following over a month ago but wasn't sure if I wanted to publish it. I was just venting at the time. However, the statements/realizations are meaningful. And, while some days are better than others (like the day after I wrote this when my boss told me about a bonus I was getting), my conclusion holds true. So here it is (sorry. no hand histories.)...
I could write every day about how much I dislike working. But the truth is, I can’t really complain. A friend of mine often describes my work life to new acquaintances as “Office Space.” That is because I have been able to do the Peter Gibbons thing at each of my last four jobs.
At one, I was the only person who did the job I did. So they were dependent on my services and had to keep me happy. The best way to do that is to just leave me alone. I’ll do the work that needs to be done and I’ll do it fast and right. When there isn’t much to do, just don’t bug me. That’s how it went there. So I was able to come in late, take long lunches, and leave early. Whenever my attendance was questioned, I simply queried, “Do you have any issues with my work?” That always sets them back on their heels.
BTW, I work in IT Development so, financially, I do alright. And since its development, I adhere to the concept that nothing should ever be so critical that it can’t wait until I get back. So I’m never frantic like so many around me.
The next job had me working on the road throughout the States. At first, I had nothing to do except for a few training classes that the company required all new developers to attend. It was one of those situations where I knew more than the instructors. (Now, don’t get the wrong idea about me. I don’t make a big deal about such things. Instead, I sit quietly and try to stay awake.) In this case, the instructor realized that I new more than she did so she began eliciting my help when she was unsure or stumped. It actually worked out well…we had some fun times in class.
When I wasn’t in training in Florida or Connecticut, I was at my home office which was, literally, in my home. I just had to get online each day to check my email to see if anyone had work for me. I didn’t even have to stay there all day. It was very nice. Eventually, they found a few horrible assignments for me and I went from not working at all to 14 hour days. Not to mention the many flights to the east coast or HI…very long when you do it twice a week.
After a while, a long assignment I was on slowed to a crawl as personnel at the client company began to change. I went from 14 hour days to 8 to 7 to 6. By that time, my colleagues and I had little to do and amused ourselves playing Unreal Tournament on the company’s network (they didn’t have good security.) Toward the end of my stint there, we watched Office Space on my laptop in the middle of the day. No one ever complained. It definitely bore hints of Office Space.
My next job was a return to an old company. I had left because they didn’t want to pay me what I wanted. I returned at a higher price (Muwahahaha!) This time, I was not the only person doing the job. But I had a higher level of expertise. So, once again, I was left to do things my way. And, since there were now three of us (one who was my supervisor on paper and one who did all the menial daily tasks), the workload was small for me. Back to coming in late, long lunches, and leaving early.
I left there to work at a similar company to do the same kind of development. But this time, it was one big project that was scoped to take 12 months to complete. 24 months later, there was no end in sight. Throughout that two year period, I didn’t have much to do. I tried to get things moving along to the point where I would have alot to work on. But the project leaders allowed the whole thing to flounder. So, once again, I was going in late, taking long lunches, and leaving early. A couple of times, I incorporated an afternoon Guinness at the Yard. Its really odd to be in there while the sun is still out. But I did that because I could.
I left that company because, as with those before it, I saw the writing on the wall and jumped ship. And I was right. That company was sold and pretty much dissolved. My next employer would be quite the opposite.
The next one was my current one. It’s a huge company that continues to grow and at which they don’t like to fire anyone. There are people there who everyone agrees are incompetent and more trouble than they are worth. But rather than sacking them, they just get moved around from project to project…The “let him be somebody else’s problem” method.
I happen to work with some really good people. Actually, “work with” isn’t the right term. That’s because I have had barely anything to do in the year and a half that I have been there. And my boss has been located in a separate building this whole time. So, with no work and no one looking over our shoulders, my coworkers and I have been able to come in late, take long lunches, and leave early.
I should note, throughout my career, I have never hidden the fact that I was lacking in work. In fact, I have always made it known when I had nothing to do and welcomed anything to keep me busy. But the whole point here is that I can’t complain too much since I get paid well to do nothing. I can complain about my situation though.
I hate working in a cubicle. I hate working for people who waste time over minutia like Khakis vs. Jeans. I hate the politics involved in every aspect of the work place. I hate driving 30 miles each way in L.A. traffic. I hate the misuse of “passion” by applying it to a corporate mission statement. I hate annual reviews and being made to outline my professional goals. But mostly, I hate that I keep going, day after day, subjecting myself to all of this. I hate that its my own fault.
I have a college degree. I have never found anything that I could not do. If I couldn’t at first, I figured out how to. And I excel at most things I take on. So I should feel secure in leaving behind a constant, hefty paycheck to go try my hand at something I enjoy and can really kick ass at. (The first thing on my mind is poker. I do have the goods. I just have to find the guts.)
“First rule of poker: Look at your cards.” -- friends in home game
We’ll see if this rant has been at all cathartic.
SEEYa
I could write every day about how much I dislike working. But the truth is, I can’t really complain. A friend of mine often describes my work life to new acquaintances as “Office Space.” That is because I have been able to do the Peter Gibbons thing at each of my last four jobs.
At one, I was the only person who did the job I did. So they were dependent on my services and had to keep me happy. The best way to do that is to just leave me alone. I’ll do the work that needs to be done and I’ll do it fast and right. When there isn’t much to do, just don’t bug me. That’s how it went there. So I was able to come in late, take long lunches, and leave early. Whenever my attendance was questioned, I simply queried, “Do you have any issues with my work?” That always sets them back on their heels.
BTW, I work in IT Development so, financially, I do alright. And since its development, I adhere to the concept that nothing should ever be so critical that it can’t wait until I get back. So I’m never frantic like so many around me.
The next job had me working on the road throughout the States. At first, I had nothing to do except for a few training classes that the company required all new developers to attend. It was one of those situations where I knew more than the instructors. (Now, don’t get the wrong idea about me. I don’t make a big deal about such things. Instead, I sit quietly and try to stay awake.) In this case, the instructor realized that I new more than she did so she began eliciting my help when she was unsure or stumped. It actually worked out well…we had some fun times in class.
When I wasn’t in training in Florida or Connecticut, I was at my home office which was, literally, in my home. I just had to get online each day to check my email to see if anyone had work for me. I didn’t even have to stay there all day. It was very nice. Eventually, they found a few horrible assignments for me and I went from not working at all to 14 hour days. Not to mention the many flights to the east coast or HI…very long when you do it twice a week.
After a while, a long assignment I was on slowed to a crawl as personnel at the client company began to change. I went from 14 hour days to 8 to 7 to 6. By that time, my colleagues and I had little to do and amused ourselves playing Unreal Tournament on the company’s network (they didn’t have good security.) Toward the end of my stint there, we watched Office Space on my laptop in the middle of the day. No one ever complained. It definitely bore hints of Office Space.
My next job was a return to an old company. I had left because they didn’t want to pay me what I wanted. I returned at a higher price (Muwahahaha!) This time, I was not the only person doing the job. But I had a higher level of expertise. So, once again, I was left to do things my way. And, since there were now three of us (one who was my supervisor on paper and one who did all the menial daily tasks), the workload was small for me. Back to coming in late, long lunches, and leaving early.
I left there to work at a similar company to do the same kind of development. But this time, it was one big project that was scoped to take 12 months to complete. 24 months later, there was no end in sight. Throughout that two year period, I didn’t have much to do. I tried to get things moving along to the point where I would have alot to work on. But the project leaders allowed the whole thing to flounder. So, once again, I was going in late, taking long lunches, and leaving early. A couple of times, I incorporated an afternoon Guinness at the Yard. Its really odd to be in there while the sun is still out. But I did that because I could.
I left that company because, as with those before it, I saw the writing on the wall and jumped ship. And I was right. That company was sold and pretty much dissolved. My next employer would be quite the opposite.
The next one was my current one. It’s a huge company that continues to grow and at which they don’t like to fire anyone. There are people there who everyone agrees are incompetent and more trouble than they are worth. But rather than sacking them, they just get moved around from project to project…The “let him be somebody else’s problem” method.
I happen to work with some really good people. Actually, “work with” isn’t the right term. That’s because I have had barely anything to do in the year and a half that I have been there. And my boss has been located in a separate building this whole time. So, with no work and no one looking over our shoulders, my coworkers and I have been able to come in late, take long lunches, and leave early.
I should note, throughout my career, I have never hidden the fact that I was lacking in work. In fact, I have always made it known when I had nothing to do and welcomed anything to keep me busy. But the whole point here is that I can’t complain too much since I get paid well to do nothing. I can complain about my situation though.
I hate working in a cubicle. I hate working for people who waste time over minutia like Khakis vs. Jeans. I hate the politics involved in every aspect of the work place. I hate driving 30 miles each way in L.A. traffic. I hate the misuse of “passion” by applying it to a corporate mission statement. I hate annual reviews and being made to outline my professional goals. But mostly, I hate that I keep going, day after day, subjecting myself to all of this. I hate that its my own fault.
I have a college degree. I have never found anything that I could not do. If I couldn’t at first, I figured out how to. And I excel at most things I take on. So I should feel secure in leaving behind a constant, hefty paycheck to go try my hand at something I enjoy and can really kick ass at. (The first thing on my mind is poker. I do have the goods. I just have to find the guts.)
“First rule of poker: Look at your cards.” -- friends in home game
We’ll see if this rant has been at all cathartic.
SEEYa
Friday, April 07, 2006
Vegas/Commerce/Pool/Drunk Trip Report 3
Continued from Trip Report 2…
Friday evening, I made it to the pool tourney room a little before 7pm, just in time to meet my teammates and hear the announcement of table assignments. I was very hung over but felt fine to play. I wasn’t worried about winning anyway because we were there to have fun above all else…at least I was. And we were lucky to draw a team of three friendly players instead of one of the many groups in attendance obsessed with winning.
I took on the role of caption/score-keeper as Roman began the first match. He played well and won. There was nothing spectacular about it. So we were off to a good start, up 1-0. Our new female teammate was up next. We didn’t know what to expect but it did not take long to see that she lacked a competitive instinct. Her opponent was evenly matched by rank (3) but had her outclassed in skill. However, the opponent was not playing well so my teammate had a chance. But, with a lack of drive and ability, she just didn’t know how to win. After what evolved into a decent match, she lost and we were all tied, 1-1.
Now it was my turn. I had the edge on my opponent as I was ranked a 6 with him at 4. But, like I said, I was there to have fun. I also wanted to give my best effort, too. I won the lag and got the first break with which I didn’t have a problem. It was on my first shot after the break that the effects of my hang over were noticed. I felt very unsteady over shots like it was my first time bridging. Fortunately, I was able to pull myself together within the first game and was playing well in spite of my self-inflicted condition. But I lost the first game and found another alcohol-related obstruction.
I had to rack for the second game. Let me tell you, I really take the ability to rack the balls for granted. My hands were shaking ever so slightly, resulting in a frayed grouping of stripes and solids each time I tried to lift the very tight rack (People! Please! No!). It took several attempts, but I managed to assemble a breakable set.
With the APA’s handicapping system, I had to win 5 games to my opponent’s 3. So I didn’t have a ton of room for error. Normally, a 5-3 race poses no issue for me. But, this time, there were extenuating circumstances (DT’s). It proved to be a challenging match. My opponent show a great deal of creativity and skill in not only making shots, but in playing defenses. I was playing well, too, answering his tricky defensive shots with equally innovative kicks and masses to make legal contact and leave him tough. In the end, though, he played above his skill level, very close to mine, and was able to snatch the victory in a well contested match.
I was happy with my effort and results and had a good time. But we had lost our first match in the double-elimination format so our next match suddenly became more important. Worse news than that was the scheduled time for match #2…Saturday, 8am. “Wha…wha…what!? I’m in Vegas and have to wake up at 8am? Wait! Before 8am. Ayahhhh! Bad beat.” I still didn’t feel quite right in my head so this would have to be an early night or I would never make it to play pool in the morning. I didn’t do anything of note on Friday night and made it to bed by 1am. Sean called me at 2am as he was leaving the Magic Castle, figuring I was in Vegas so of course I would be awake. Nope. But no problem. Sleep thus far had been restless. The rest of the night was no better. I made it to our match in plenty of time on Saturday morning. Unfortunately, I didn’t even get to play as both my teammates lost their matches and we were quickly eliminated from the tourney. I asked the opposing team caption, “What the hell is there to do in this town now that we’re out of the tournament?”
Never mind. I can think of something. Oh! How about poker?
It was only about 10am on Saturday. What to do. What to do. I went back to my room and cleaned up. Then I walked around the casino before deciding to check in with Pam and Eric to see if they had won their morning matches. Sadly, they, too, had been eliminated. They were already over at the Peppermill with Roman, waiting for a table. I decided to join them in the bar at the Peppermill and have a drink. Maybe that would help right the ship. Ah, yes. A little hair of the dog and I was doing just fine, thank you. We ogled the waitresses in the bar then got our table in the restaurant and continued the ogling with our flirtatious red-headed server.
Heading away from the Peppermill, Pam, Eric, and Roman were going to see their friend, Steve. They wanted me to go with them but I wanted to shower and play some cards before too long. They were going to hang out with Steve for a while and Roman had promised to help set up his new computer. When Roman said it would “only take 30 minutes,” I laughed, knowingly, and opted out. They took off and I trekked back to my room. (Roman actually worked on the computer for about three hours. When I called Pam at 10pm, they were still at Steve's.)
After finishing with the three S’s, I decided to walk to The Wynn. I had wanted to visit several of the big casinos to see what changes they had made since my last trip and Wynn was on that list. It would actually be my first time there since it was under construction last time I was in town. The walk was about a mile from the Riviera but I was determined to get out. It was a nice, clear evening and I made it there in no time.
Wow! What a nice place. And it was bustling on this Saturday evening. As is customary, it was a bit of a walk from the entrance to the poker room. But I guess it probably seemed longer due to all the foot traffic. It was worth the journey, though. The Wynn’s poker room, while its size does not inspire awe, is one of the nicest I’ve seen. Among the accoutrement were LCD monitors throughout the room displaying the games and boards so they were visible from any table. My plan was to get in at my usual level, 5-10 NLH. Fortunately, it was running on four tables and the board was relatively short. In fact, by the time I located the tables so I could scope out the action, three players had been called and I was next on the list. I went back to the desk and asked about the buy-in for the game. It was $500 minimum with no maximum. It turns out there is no max to the buy-in for any game at the Wynn. That will be nice for me when I progress my game to a higher limit of gamble. But, for now, I’m used to the fixed $400 buy-in for the 5-10NL game at Commerce. I didn’t have a problem with the minimum for this particular game. But no max meant a minimum buy-in would likely be treading in deep waters. “No problem,” I thought. “But I will need to reassess the situation to figure out the proper buy-in amount.
I went back over to the 10NL tables and surveyed the players and their stacks. The shortest stacks at any table were at about $800 and there were few of them. The average stack was a little over $1k so I decided that would be the correct amount. But, as I waited for a seat, I began to question myself and what I might be walking into. Eventually, I chickened out and put my name on a list for 2-5NLH instead. It was a long list but I made up my mind. I was hungry anyway. The wait would give me time enough to hit up The Café for a latte and sandwich.
In hindsight, I should have sat in the higher game. I let an unwarranted fear drive me away. I know I am good enough to sit in any game. The money wasn’t the issue. I just thought, for a moment, that I might be out classed. Man, that’s just dumb. I’m better than that. At some point, I’m going to have to find out for sure.
After relaxing for a few in The Café and enjoying half of a huge turkey sandwich, I made my way back to the poker room. I was closer to the top of the list but would wait another 15 minutes or so to be called. As I got to my table, pulled out $400, and began to sit down, the dealer told me I would need to go to the cage to get my chips. I was shocked. In a place as nice as this, I just assumed chip runners would be included in the package. After all, everyone else has them. Then, in a pleasant twist, a runner did show up as I was getting up. “That’s more like it.”
The game was an average mix of loose and tight, passive and aggressive. There seemed to be only one player that I would need to steer away from. But I had only just sat down so it was too early to be sure. As of late, I have been more disciplined at avoiding action early on at a table. Its best to acquire some info before getting too involved. Unfortunately, I was sucked in to a couple of pots in my first couple trips through the blinds. The most notable, and costly, was a limped family pot on my first BB (I had posted in the cutoff.) I had 4-2o and was more than happy to check and see a flop against five opponents. The flop came 4-J-4, the SB checked and I followed suit. It checked around to the button who led out for $20. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do until the SB called. Now there was enough in the pot to make it worth taking down. I also didn’t want to continue against multiple players. So I raised to $60 with the intent of isolating as well as finding out where I was. In a limped pot, I could very easily be up against another set of fours…and I had no kicker.
It folded around to the button and he folded, too. I hadn’t been worried about the SB as I put him on a draw to over-cards. So once the button folded, I thought I was set with my set. But then the SB, a man in his late 60's or early 70's, moved all-in. Oops! It was $75 more to me so I was kind of pot committed. But I was pretty sure now that he had a 4. My mind circled around the decision. After about a minute and a half of turmoil, I made the call thinking that he probably also had a small kicker so I could get a chop or pair my 2 for the win. He did, in fact, have a small kicker, holding 5-4o. The turn was a medium-sized rag that would give me half the pot. But don’t forget, kids. There is a river still to come. And that river was…a 5. I had him covered so I didn’t have to re-buy just yet.
I tightened way up and made $50 last for while. Along the way, I picked up a couple of good reads and got the general feel of the table. I would use that to grind my stack back up to about $130. Then a bad thing happened…the table gotten short handed and, soon after, broke. I had just gone through the blinds when we got down to four-handed and stopped play. While we waited for a floor person to come break the table and send us to other games, I asked, “Are you sure you guys don’t want to play my button?” It was the only laugh I got out of them. My new table would prove to be much more fun.
I took my $130 to the new table and quickly got the feel for the overall play. Not too tight. Several players were willing to call pre-flop raises with middle suited connectors or K-Qo down to K-9s. I had noticed one player liked to play paint-rag from late position. He mixed it up pretty well, though, raising sometimes and calling others. But he didn’t know how to get away from the hand if he caught part of the flop…even if only pairing the rag. I played tight, still trying to work my stack back up to an amount that I could use more liberally.
With only a couple exceptions, everyone at the table was willing to talk and laugh. I felt right at home as they put up with my silliness from the beginning. As I mentioned, I was playing tight and they noticed it. They gave me action on my pre-flop raises but left me alone if I continued after the flop. That worked well for me as I worked my chip stack up close to $400 in about 2 hours. Then someone realized that the whole table had tightened up and suggested we do a round of shots to loosen things up. I had already broken my rule in my previous session and was trying to play as straight as possible this night. But I also didn’t want to quash the great mood at the table. So I said I would if anyone else was. A few of them talked about what they wanted to drink and settled on Jagermeister. Blech! Not what I think of when it comes to shots these days. It was one thing in college. But not now.
I decided to go along with them anyway and put up with the Jager. But then a new player joined the table. He heard that we were going to order and said he would, too, but he wanted Patron. That sounded alot better to me so I said I would join him and have a Patron shot instead. A couple guys grumbled because they wanted to have everyone drink the same thing. But they soon decided to go with the new flow and have Patron as well. It took forever to get a waitress (maybe 20 minutes) but we did and we got our medicine. She delivered the Patron in some very nice, tall shot glasses with thin sides and deep bottom. So we really got a good amount in each. They also salted the rim and put the world’s smallest lime slices on them. I thought the salt and lime were unnecessary due to the high quality of the tequila. I also later commented that we got “the world's worst tasting limes.” Bottoms up!
90 minutes and three Patron shots later, I realized I was feeling no effect but a few of my drinking partners were visibly worse for wear. They had all loosened up their play thanks to the booze. But, if anything, it had the opposite effect on me. I was playing ultra tight. Though, it was partly due to the fact that most pots were raised before the action got to me so I couldn’t even limp in with marginal hands. Another reason was that I was quite card dead. When I did have a hand, they continued to pay me off pre-flop and leave me alone post-flop. Except for one guy. I raised with A-Ko and we got heads up. The flop was A-K-9 with two spades. I bet since there was a flush draw. The pot was $70, I think, and I bet $50. He called and the turn brought a small spade. This time, I checked, thinking he must have been on the spade draw. He checked behind me and, suddenly, I didn’t know where I was in the hand. The river was another small spade. I was pretty sure I didn’t have one and again checked. I allowed my disgust in myself and the situation to show. He now bet $25 into this $170 pot and I requested, "Somebody call my mother and tell her I suck at this game." It looked like a simple value bet since any spade could win. But I had to go through the process and think about my Aces and Kings before releasing the hand. I also wanted to give one last look for a spade. I new both of my cards were big and recalled that one of them was black. The first one I looked at was the Ac. I looked up and said, “Well. That one’s black.” Neither of my cards was a spade so I was pretty much done with the hand. But then my thoughts took a different direction. This man was new to our table so nobody new anything about his play. The bet was small enough that I could look him up and get some info…like with what kind of hand he’d call a pre-flop raise and a big flop bet. I felt even more justified in calling for info since everyone at the table could share in the knowledge. We were having such a good time together, it seemed like a friendly gesture to my drunken colleagues.
I called and he smirked and shook his head, indicating that he did not hold a spade. I was actually surprised as I turned up my hand and took down the pot. I had found an inexpensive reason to call and it worked out in the end. Cool. The table changed over the next hour and the mood got a little heavier as new faces arrived. So I decided to call it a night. I cashed a smallish win and was proud of being able to once again come back from an early deficit. I was also very happy to have found a fun group of guys. It was a good night.
It was about 2am and the line at the taxi stand was a hundred head long. So I chose to hoof it back to the Riv. Not a bad idea as it turned out. It helped me unwind after the session. Since it was Saturday night in Vegas, I wasn’t ready to call it a night. I made the long hike to the pool tourney room to see how the late night action was. Nothing. Not a single soul in the room. Damn! That sucks. I guess another 8am start time for the remaining competitors on Sunday was the to blame. Oh well. That was my “cue” to call it a night. The next day, Roman and I were on the road by 11am because he needed to be back home for something work related that afternoon.
All in all, it was a pretty good trip. I didn’t party it up in the way I thought I might. I also didn’t play poker the way I had hoped to or in all of the places that I had planned. So I left Vegas feeling the itch to get back there soon. But next time, poker, not pool, will be the priority.
SEEYa
Friday evening, I made it to the pool tourney room a little before 7pm, just in time to meet my teammates and hear the announcement of table assignments. I was very hung over but felt fine to play. I wasn’t worried about winning anyway because we were there to have fun above all else…at least I was. And we were lucky to draw a team of three friendly players instead of one of the many groups in attendance obsessed with winning.
I took on the role of caption/score-keeper as Roman began the first match. He played well and won. There was nothing spectacular about it. So we were off to a good start, up 1-0. Our new female teammate was up next. We didn’t know what to expect but it did not take long to see that she lacked a competitive instinct. Her opponent was evenly matched by rank (3) but had her outclassed in skill. However, the opponent was not playing well so my teammate had a chance. But, with a lack of drive and ability, she just didn’t know how to win. After what evolved into a decent match, she lost and we were all tied, 1-1.
Now it was my turn. I had the edge on my opponent as I was ranked a 6 with him at 4. But, like I said, I was there to have fun. I also wanted to give my best effort, too. I won the lag and got the first break with which I didn’t have a problem. It was on my first shot after the break that the effects of my hang over were noticed. I felt very unsteady over shots like it was my first time bridging. Fortunately, I was able to pull myself together within the first game and was playing well in spite of my self-inflicted condition. But I lost the first game and found another alcohol-related obstruction.
I had to rack for the second game. Let me tell you, I really take the ability to rack the balls for granted. My hands were shaking ever so slightly, resulting in a frayed grouping of stripes and solids each time I tried to lift the very tight rack (People! Please! No!). It took several attempts, but I managed to assemble a breakable set.
With the APA’s handicapping system, I had to win 5 games to my opponent’s 3. So I didn’t have a ton of room for error. Normally, a 5-3 race poses no issue for me. But, this time, there were extenuating circumstances (DT’s). It proved to be a challenging match. My opponent show a great deal of creativity and skill in not only making shots, but in playing defenses. I was playing well, too, answering his tricky defensive shots with equally innovative kicks and masses to make legal contact and leave him tough. In the end, though, he played above his skill level, very close to mine, and was able to snatch the victory in a well contested match.
I was happy with my effort and results and had a good time. But we had lost our first match in the double-elimination format so our next match suddenly became more important. Worse news than that was the scheduled time for match #2…Saturday, 8am. “Wha…wha…what!? I’m in Vegas and have to wake up at 8am? Wait! Before 8am. Ayahhhh! Bad beat.” I still didn’t feel quite right in my head so this would have to be an early night or I would never make it to play pool in the morning. I didn’t do anything of note on Friday night and made it to bed by 1am. Sean called me at 2am as he was leaving the Magic Castle, figuring I was in Vegas so of course I would be awake. Nope. But no problem. Sleep thus far had been restless. The rest of the night was no better. I made it to our match in plenty of time on Saturday morning. Unfortunately, I didn’t even get to play as both my teammates lost their matches and we were quickly eliminated from the tourney. I asked the opposing team caption, “What the hell is there to do in this town now that we’re out of the tournament?”
Never mind. I can think of something. Oh! How about poker?
It was only about 10am on Saturday. What to do. What to do. I went back to my room and cleaned up. Then I walked around the casino before deciding to check in with Pam and Eric to see if they had won their morning matches. Sadly, they, too, had been eliminated. They were already over at the Peppermill with Roman, waiting for a table. I decided to join them in the bar at the Peppermill and have a drink. Maybe that would help right the ship. Ah, yes. A little hair of the dog and I was doing just fine, thank you. We ogled the waitresses in the bar then got our table in the restaurant and continued the ogling with our flirtatious red-headed server.
Heading away from the Peppermill, Pam, Eric, and Roman were going to see their friend, Steve. They wanted me to go with them but I wanted to shower and play some cards before too long. They were going to hang out with Steve for a while and Roman had promised to help set up his new computer. When Roman said it would “only take 30 minutes,” I laughed, knowingly, and opted out. They took off and I trekked back to my room. (Roman actually worked on the computer for about three hours. When I called Pam at 10pm, they were still at Steve's.)
After finishing with the three S’s, I decided to walk to The Wynn. I had wanted to visit several of the big casinos to see what changes they had made since my last trip and Wynn was on that list. It would actually be my first time there since it was under construction last time I was in town. The walk was about a mile from the Riviera but I was determined to get out. It was a nice, clear evening and I made it there in no time.
Wow! What a nice place. And it was bustling on this Saturday evening. As is customary, it was a bit of a walk from the entrance to the poker room. But I guess it probably seemed longer due to all the foot traffic. It was worth the journey, though. The Wynn’s poker room, while its size does not inspire awe, is one of the nicest I’ve seen. Among the accoutrement were LCD monitors throughout the room displaying the games and boards so they were visible from any table. My plan was to get in at my usual level, 5-10 NLH. Fortunately, it was running on four tables and the board was relatively short. In fact, by the time I located the tables so I could scope out the action, three players had been called and I was next on the list. I went back to the desk and asked about the buy-in for the game. It was $500 minimum with no maximum. It turns out there is no max to the buy-in for any game at the Wynn. That will be nice for me when I progress my game to a higher limit of gamble. But, for now, I’m used to the fixed $400 buy-in for the 5-10NL game at Commerce. I didn’t have a problem with the minimum for this particular game. But no max meant a minimum buy-in would likely be treading in deep waters. “No problem,” I thought. “But I will need to reassess the situation to figure out the proper buy-in amount.
I went back over to the 10NL tables and surveyed the players and their stacks. The shortest stacks at any table were at about $800 and there were few of them. The average stack was a little over $1k so I decided that would be the correct amount. But, as I waited for a seat, I began to question myself and what I might be walking into. Eventually, I chickened out and put my name on a list for 2-5NLH instead. It was a long list but I made up my mind. I was hungry anyway. The wait would give me time enough to hit up The Café for a latte and sandwich.
In hindsight, I should have sat in the higher game. I let an unwarranted fear drive me away. I know I am good enough to sit in any game. The money wasn’t the issue. I just thought, for a moment, that I might be out classed. Man, that’s just dumb. I’m better than that. At some point, I’m going to have to find out for sure.
After relaxing for a few in The Café and enjoying half of a huge turkey sandwich, I made my way back to the poker room. I was closer to the top of the list but would wait another 15 minutes or so to be called. As I got to my table, pulled out $400, and began to sit down, the dealer told me I would need to go to the cage to get my chips. I was shocked. In a place as nice as this, I just assumed chip runners would be included in the package. After all, everyone else has them. Then, in a pleasant twist, a runner did show up as I was getting up. “That’s more like it.”
The game was an average mix of loose and tight, passive and aggressive. There seemed to be only one player that I would need to steer away from. But I had only just sat down so it was too early to be sure. As of late, I have been more disciplined at avoiding action early on at a table. Its best to acquire some info before getting too involved. Unfortunately, I was sucked in to a couple of pots in my first couple trips through the blinds. The most notable, and costly, was a limped family pot on my first BB (I had posted in the cutoff.) I had 4-2o and was more than happy to check and see a flop against five opponents. The flop came 4-J-4, the SB checked and I followed suit. It checked around to the button who led out for $20. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do until the SB called. Now there was enough in the pot to make it worth taking down. I also didn’t want to continue against multiple players. So I raised to $60 with the intent of isolating as well as finding out where I was. In a limped pot, I could very easily be up against another set of fours…and I had no kicker.
It folded around to the button and he folded, too. I hadn’t been worried about the SB as I put him on a draw to over-cards. So once the button folded, I thought I was set with my set. But then the SB, a man in his late 60's or early 70's, moved all-in. Oops! It was $75 more to me so I was kind of pot committed. But I was pretty sure now that he had a 4. My mind circled around the decision. After about a minute and a half of turmoil, I made the call thinking that he probably also had a small kicker so I could get a chop or pair my 2 for the win. He did, in fact, have a small kicker, holding 5-4o. The turn was a medium-sized rag that would give me half the pot. But don’t forget, kids. There is a river still to come. And that river was…a 5. I had him covered so I didn’t have to re-buy just yet.
I tightened way up and made $50 last for while. Along the way, I picked up a couple of good reads and got the general feel of the table. I would use that to grind my stack back up to about $130. Then a bad thing happened…the table gotten short handed and, soon after, broke. I had just gone through the blinds when we got down to four-handed and stopped play. While we waited for a floor person to come break the table and send us to other games, I asked, “Are you sure you guys don’t want to play my button?” It was the only laugh I got out of them. My new table would prove to be much more fun.
I took my $130 to the new table and quickly got the feel for the overall play. Not too tight. Several players were willing to call pre-flop raises with middle suited connectors or K-Qo down to K-9s. I had noticed one player liked to play paint-rag from late position. He mixed it up pretty well, though, raising sometimes and calling others. But he didn’t know how to get away from the hand if he caught part of the flop…even if only pairing the rag. I played tight, still trying to work my stack back up to an amount that I could use more liberally.
With only a couple exceptions, everyone at the table was willing to talk and laugh. I felt right at home as they put up with my silliness from the beginning. As I mentioned, I was playing tight and they noticed it. They gave me action on my pre-flop raises but left me alone if I continued after the flop. That worked well for me as I worked my chip stack up close to $400 in about 2 hours. Then someone realized that the whole table had tightened up and suggested we do a round of shots to loosen things up. I had already broken my rule in my previous session and was trying to play as straight as possible this night. But I also didn’t want to quash the great mood at the table. So I said I would if anyone else was. A few of them talked about what they wanted to drink and settled on Jagermeister. Blech! Not what I think of when it comes to shots these days. It was one thing in college. But not now.
I decided to go along with them anyway and put up with the Jager. But then a new player joined the table. He heard that we were going to order and said he would, too, but he wanted Patron. That sounded alot better to me so I said I would join him and have a Patron shot instead. A couple guys grumbled because they wanted to have everyone drink the same thing. But they soon decided to go with the new flow and have Patron as well. It took forever to get a waitress (maybe 20 minutes) but we did and we got our medicine. She delivered the Patron in some very nice, tall shot glasses with thin sides and deep bottom. So we really got a good amount in each. They also salted the rim and put the world’s smallest lime slices on them. I thought the salt and lime were unnecessary due to the high quality of the tequila. I also later commented that we got “the world's worst tasting limes.” Bottoms up!
90 minutes and three Patron shots later, I realized I was feeling no effect but a few of my drinking partners were visibly worse for wear. They had all loosened up their play thanks to the booze. But, if anything, it had the opposite effect on me. I was playing ultra tight. Though, it was partly due to the fact that most pots were raised before the action got to me so I couldn’t even limp in with marginal hands. Another reason was that I was quite card dead. When I did have a hand, they continued to pay me off pre-flop and leave me alone post-flop. Except for one guy. I raised with A-Ko and we got heads up. The flop was A-K-9 with two spades. I bet since there was a flush draw. The pot was $70, I think, and I bet $50. He called and the turn brought a small spade. This time, I checked, thinking he must have been on the spade draw. He checked behind me and, suddenly, I didn’t know where I was in the hand. The river was another small spade. I was pretty sure I didn’t have one and again checked. I allowed my disgust in myself and the situation to show. He now bet $25 into this $170 pot and I requested, "Somebody call my mother and tell her I suck at this game." It looked like a simple value bet since any spade could win. But I had to go through the process and think about my Aces and Kings before releasing the hand. I also wanted to give one last look for a spade. I new both of my cards were big and recalled that one of them was black. The first one I looked at was the Ac. I looked up and said, “Well. That one’s black.” Neither of my cards was a spade so I was pretty much done with the hand. But then my thoughts took a different direction. This man was new to our table so nobody new anything about his play. The bet was small enough that I could look him up and get some info…like with what kind of hand he’d call a pre-flop raise and a big flop bet. I felt even more justified in calling for info since everyone at the table could share in the knowledge. We were having such a good time together, it seemed like a friendly gesture to my drunken colleagues.
I called and he smirked and shook his head, indicating that he did not hold a spade. I was actually surprised as I turned up my hand and took down the pot. I had found an inexpensive reason to call and it worked out in the end. Cool. The table changed over the next hour and the mood got a little heavier as new faces arrived. So I decided to call it a night. I cashed a smallish win and was proud of being able to once again come back from an early deficit. I was also very happy to have found a fun group of guys. It was a good night.
It was about 2am and the line at the taxi stand was a hundred head long. So I chose to hoof it back to the Riv. Not a bad idea as it turned out. It helped me unwind after the session. Since it was Saturday night in Vegas, I wasn’t ready to call it a night. I made the long hike to the pool tourney room to see how the late night action was. Nothing. Not a single soul in the room. Damn! That sucks. I guess another 8am start time for the remaining competitors on Sunday was the to blame. Oh well. That was my “cue” to call it a night. The next day, Roman and I were on the road by 11am because he needed to be back home for something work related that afternoon.
All in all, it was a pretty good trip. I didn’t party it up in the way I thought I might. I also didn’t play poker the way I had hoped to or in all of the places that I had planned. So I left Vegas feeling the itch to get back there soon. But next time, poker, not pool, will be the priority.
SEEYa
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
Vegas/Commerce/Pool/Drunk Trip Report 2
Continued from Trip Report 1…
On our way in to Vegas, about an hour from town, Roman called the Riviera to see if they had any rooms. Up to that point, we were winging it with no hotel room. But we did have an offer to stay at someone’s house. I was cool with whatever we ended up doing.
Good fortune (I guess) smiled on us and we landed a room at the Riv. I don’t particularly like staying at lower end hotels/casinos while in Vegas. But this time, we were there to play pool at the Riv so it made sense. Unfortunately, its at the sad end of the strip. Most of the biggest, nicest casinos are at least 2 miles away. Oh, well.
Roman and I ran into Pam (our weekly league team captain) and chatted for a few. We finally made it to check in and found that customer service is becoming obsolete at the Riviera. Instead of dealing with a person at the check-in desk, they now have kiosks like you will find in more and more airports these days. It should have been simple enough – Slide your credit card and the computer identifies you and checks you in. But Roman apparently has a golden touch. He had to swipe his card a couple dozen times before it was recognized. It then brought up a couple of options on the touch screen. He selected one of them and voila! A Windows desktop appeared. “Cool! Let’s upgrade ourselves to a suite,” I suggested. A different kiosk worked a little better and we headed to our room to drop off our gear.
We didn’t stick around the room very long because our first priority was to get a drink. Now this is where I run into a personal issue. I used to be all about drinking and having crazy fun whenever I went to Vegas. But now there are poker rooms as far as the eye can see with plenty of action for sure over this very crowded weekend. When it comes to playing poker, I don’t drink because it makes it difficult to maintain focus on the game. I wanted to play poker at some point that night but we had just arrived. So I felt compelled to have a swig to get the weekend started right.
I decided I could handle a drink or two and remain clear-headed enough to play cards later on in the evening. Besides, we would have to walk a ways to another casino if we really wanted to play and the walk could help enliven the senses. So Roman and I hit what I think is the only bar in the Riv’s casino. It “smelled like a leak,” to quote an old friend. No mind. A drink or two and we would no longer notice the wicked scent. We each put some change in the video poker games at the bar so we could drink for free. Good idea as it turned out because Roman caught four Ks playing Js or better. It would be his only profit for the trip. I had one ridiculous video poker hand. I was dealt x5684 and decided to draw for the 7 to complete the gut-shot. It was Js or better and there was no paint or pair on board so it wasn’t such a bad play. Well the Black Label (on the rocks; my go-to drink) must have been kicking in because as I hit the buttons to hold the 5, 6, 8, and 4, I whiffed on the 4 and struck the deal button. D’Oh! But to my surprise and delight, the two cards I drew were…wait for it…4 and 7! In that order. Wow. That’s nutty. I guess that’s the best way to have fun playing 25¢ vp.
Next, we headed to the convention area where the pool tourneys were to be held because we had to meet up with our 3rd teammate and register. That took a while because when I told her to meet us at registration, she went to hotel registration and waited several minutes before calling me to find out she was in the wrong place. When we finally got done with that, Roman and I decided to check out the Riviera’s so-called poker room. Its not actually a room. Rather, its 5 tables bordered by a short gate. I hadn’t expected much and didn’t want to play there anyway. There was one game going (limit & full) and we decided to ask what the chances were of starting another table. By chance, a few other people walked up at the same time so we sat down. We soon had a 1-2NLH game in action.
Yikes! What the hell was I doing? First, I drank before playing. Now I was involved in a penny-ante game in a make-shift card room. I bought in for the max amount, $200. The minimum buy-in was $40. I was thinking about what the heck I was doing there when I realized that everyone else at the table bought in for the minimum. Then I came to the conclusion that this was the perfect situation considering I was bordering on a buzz (Oh, yeah. I had another BL while waiting for our teammate at pool reg.) The stakes were insignificant and there was no chance of quickly losing what I had in front of me to any of these folks with only $40 in front of them. Then the waitress came by and it was on.
I began drinking with a complete disregard for…well…anything. I was no longer worried about the game and I was staying where I was playing. So no worries. Time to just have fun. The drinks came swiftly, the pours were tall, and the table was soft. This was probably the easiest game I have ever found. Even my friend was dumping chips to me. A couple of times, I had the best of it and new it so I made huge bets to let him know, “I’ve got it. Your aces are no good. Go away.” But he would painfully call. After he lost a buy-in, I stacked off $100 in chips and slid them over to him. I don’t know why. I just thought it was good idea at the time. At least it kept the game full and, even if he lost them, the chips were still in play.
He lost them.
But that was not a problem. Like I stated, the game was easy. I won it back from those that took it from him. I don’t recall details of many hands from that night. I do, however, recall that I was having a great time, chatting people up and making jokes. There were times during the night when people were generally unreceptive. But, more than not, they either put up with my antics or joined in. In one hand of note, I had checked from the BB holding A-Q with several limpers. I think the pot was six-handed before the flop. The board came K-T-x rainbow and everyone checked. I exclaimed, “OK (rapping the table.) But you better hope a jack doesn’t come.” A jack did hit on the turn and I jumped out of my seat, laughing. Then I checked. And, of course, someone didn’t believe that I wanted a J and bet into me. There was one caller ahead of me and I decided to call. I bet the river and (I think) I got one caller. It was a pretty huge pot for that game. The table got a little quiet after that one. That is to say, they did. Not me.
The game continued with players leaving only to be shortly replaced. I was amazed that it didn’t break or even come close. Whenever we did have a vacant seat, I would hail passersby and invite them to join us. But no one ever did. A guy who looked like Kelsey Grammer sat in and I proceeded to call him “Kelsey Grammer.” Fortunately for me, he didn’t mind.
Next thing I new, Roman, who had left around 1 or 2am, tapped me on the shoulder and said, “We play our first match at 7pm.” I wondered how he knew that because the captains’ meeting, where they would reveal that info, wasn’t until 8:30am. He had just come from there. I asked what time it was…9am. Duuuuuude! I had been playing for 10 hours. Roman invited me to meet him and several others for breakfast right then so I put the decision to the table. “What should I do? Keep playing or go eat?” Someone yelled out, “Leave!” I found that funny because it had to be a new player who hadn’t had his morning java yet. So I laughed, said good luck to everyone, and went to eat. I cashed -- winner $500. That is damn good for a 1-2 game.
I ate breakfast with my friends at a hotel diner and stumbled back to my room. I don’t even remember the entire trek to the room. Roman called me at 5pm to make sure I was alive and would be awake and ready for pool at 7pm. It took about an hour for me to crawl to the shower but I made it on time.
What a great way to start a Vegas trip, heh? Next time, the saga comes to its exciting conclusion.
SEEYa
On our way in to Vegas, about an hour from town, Roman called the Riviera to see if they had any rooms. Up to that point, we were winging it with no hotel room. But we did have an offer to stay at someone’s house. I was cool with whatever we ended up doing.
Good fortune (I guess) smiled on us and we landed a room at the Riv. I don’t particularly like staying at lower end hotels/casinos while in Vegas. But this time, we were there to play pool at the Riv so it made sense. Unfortunately, its at the sad end of the strip. Most of the biggest, nicest casinos are at least 2 miles away. Oh, well.
Roman and I ran into Pam (our weekly league team captain) and chatted for a few. We finally made it to check in and found that customer service is becoming obsolete at the Riviera. Instead of dealing with a person at the check-in desk, they now have kiosks like you will find in more and more airports these days. It should have been simple enough – Slide your credit card and the computer identifies you and checks you in. But Roman apparently has a golden touch. He had to swipe his card a couple dozen times before it was recognized. It then brought up a couple of options on the touch screen. He selected one of them and voila! A Windows desktop appeared. “Cool! Let’s upgrade ourselves to a suite,” I suggested. A different kiosk worked a little better and we headed to our room to drop off our gear.
We didn’t stick around the room very long because our first priority was to get a drink. Now this is where I run into a personal issue. I used to be all about drinking and having crazy fun whenever I went to Vegas. But now there are poker rooms as far as the eye can see with plenty of action for sure over this very crowded weekend. When it comes to playing poker, I don’t drink because it makes it difficult to maintain focus on the game. I wanted to play poker at some point that night but we had just arrived. So I felt compelled to have a swig to get the weekend started right.
I decided I could handle a drink or two and remain clear-headed enough to play cards later on in the evening. Besides, we would have to walk a ways to another casino if we really wanted to play and the walk could help enliven the senses. So Roman and I hit what I think is the only bar in the Riv’s casino. It “smelled like a leak,” to quote an old friend. No mind. A drink or two and we would no longer notice the wicked scent. We each put some change in the video poker games at the bar so we could drink for free. Good idea as it turned out because Roman caught four Ks playing Js or better. It would be his only profit for the trip. I had one ridiculous video poker hand. I was dealt x5684 and decided to draw for the 7 to complete the gut-shot. It was Js or better and there was no paint or pair on board so it wasn’t such a bad play. Well the Black Label (on the rocks; my go-to drink) must have been kicking in because as I hit the buttons to hold the 5, 6, 8, and 4, I whiffed on the 4 and struck the deal button. D’Oh! But to my surprise and delight, the two cards I drew were…wait for it…4 and 7! In that order. Wow. That’s nutty. I guess that’s the best way to have fun playing 25¢ vp.
Next, we headed to the convention area where the pool tourneys were to be held because we had to meet up with our 3rd teammate and register. That took a while because when I told her to meet us at registration, she went to hotel registration and waited several minutes before calling me to find out she was in the wrong place. When we finally got done with that, Roman and I decided to check out the Riviera’s so-called poker room. Its not actually a room. Rather, its 5 tables bordered by a short gate. I hadn’t expected much and didn’t want to play there anyway. There was one game going (limit & full) and we decided to ask what the chances were of starting another table. By chance, a few other people walked up at the same time so we sat down. We soon had a 1-2NLH game in action.
Yikes! What the hell was I doing? First, I drank before playing. Now I was involved in a penny-ante game in a make-shift card room. I bought in for the max amount, $200. The minimum buy-in was $40. I was thinking about what the heck I was doing there when I realized that everyone else at the table bought in for the minimum. Then I came to the conclusion that this was the perfect situation considering I was bordering on a buzz (Oh, yeah. I had another BL while waiting for our teammate at pool reg.) The stakes were insignificant and there was no chance of quickly losing what I had in front of me to any of these folks with only $40 in front of them. Then the waitress came by and it was on.
I began drinking with a complete disregard for…well…anything. I was no longer worried about the game and I was staying where I was playing. So no worries. Time to just have fun. The drinks came swiftly, the pours were tall, and the table was soft. This was probably the easiest game I have ever found. Even my friend was dumping chips to me. A couple of times, I had the best of it and new it so I made huge bets to let him know, “I’ve got it. Your aces are no good. Go away.” But he would painfully call. After he lost a buy-in, I stacked off $100 in chips and slid them over to him. I don’t know why. I just thought it was good idea at the time. At least it kept the game full and, even if he lost them, the chips were still in play.
He lost them.
But that was not a problem. Like I stated, the game was easy. I won it back from those that took it from him. I don’t recall details of many hands from that night. I do, however, recall that I was having a great time, chatting people up and making jokes. There were times during the night when people were generally unreceptive. But, more than not, they either put up with my antics or joined in. In one hand of note, I had checked from the BB holding A-Q with several limpers. I think the pot was six-handed before the flop. The board came K-T-x rainbow and everyone checked. I exclaimed, “OK (rapping the table.) But you better hope a jack doesn’t come.” A jack did hit on the turn and I jumped out of my seat, laughing. Then I checked. And, of course, someone didn’t believe that I wanted a J and bet into me. There was one caller ahead of me and I decided to call. I bet the river and (I think) I got one caller. It was a pretty huge pot for that game. The table got a little quiet after that one. That is to say, they did. Not me.
The game continued with players leaving only to be shortly replaced. I was amazed that it didn’t break or even come close. Whenever we did have a vacant seat, I would hail passersby and invite them to join us. But no one ever did. A guy who looked like Kelsey Grammer sat in and I proceeded to call him “Kelsey Grammer.” Fortunately for me, he didn’t mind.
Next thing I new, Roman, who had left around 1 or 2am, tapped me on the shoulder and said, “We play our first match at 7pm.” I wondered how he knew that because the captains’ meeting, where they would reveal that info, wasn’t until 8:30am. He had just come from there. I asked what time it was…9am. Duuuuuude! I had been playing for 10 hours. Roman invited me to meet him and several others for breakfast right then so I put the decision to the table. “What should I do? Keep playing or go eat?” Someone yelled out, “Leave!” I found that funny because it had to be a new player who hadn’t had his morning java yet. So I laughed, said good luck to everyone, and went to eat. I cashed -- winner $500. That is damn good for a 1-2 game.
I ate breakfast with my friends at a hotel diner and stumbled back to my room. I don’t even remember the entire trek to the room. Roman called me at 5pm to make sure I was alive and would be awake and ready for pool at 7pm. It took about an hour for me to crawl to the shower but I made it on time.
What a great way to start a Vegas trip, heh? Next time, the saga comes to its exciting conclusion.
SEEYa
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