“So you play poker?”
About three weeks ago during one of my son’s basketball practices, the assistant coach caught me reading The Mathematics of Poker while the six and seven year olds learned the intricacies of the not-quite-so-fast break.
“All too often,” I replied.
It wasn’t long before we exchanged phone numbers so that neither of us would miss an important tournament around town that the other was aware of. The conversation shifted towards the underground Spring Hotel and Gaelic Games. He too knew the folks running those fine establishments and had occasionally been known to squeak out a profit when playing. He said he’d call me if he was ever going to go and we could perhaps sling some cards together sometime. I told him I was always up for that, wife permitting.
****
On Saturday, miniBlood again lit up his opposition for fourteen points. After the game, his coach asked me if I were going to play that night since he was most likely going to go. I told him that there was a good chance, but I wasn’t sure when I’d be able to get there.
“Well, hope to see you there, it should be fun.”
It was.
****
I rolled into Leeg’s at about 6:30. It’s not P.F. Chang’s, but what it’s lacking in good tasting food, it more than makes up for in atmosphere. If you want to ever see a down-home, Redneck, southern bar, this place is it. The beer is cheap and it’s served with a friendly smile. Otis was already there, deep into his first brew.
Time flies when you’re having fun. An hour passed by rather quickly as we shot the general shit about poker, wives, kids and our recently finished Tunica trip. G-Rob was working, giving the upstate area its weekly fill of weekend happenings. Otis text messaged TheMark our intentions but we never heard back from him. It would be just the two of us heading to the Gaelic Game’s new location.
Before we left, I told Otis that I simply wanted to sit down, relax and play well. I didn’t feel that I played my best poker in Tunica. After my satellite win wherein I felt I played really well, I finally realized that what satisfies my poker Jones more than anything is the feeling that I was on top of my game. Results were secondary.
****
Upon being buzzed in through to the game, we were met with nearly two full tables. Only one seat was currently available and Otis graciously offered me the seat. I took the 2 seat and found miniBlood’s basketball coach directly to my left in seat 3. And he had a stack. He bought into the game for $100 and had close to $700 in front. Not too shabby.
****
Dealer Tim was there. He was there in Tunica on day one, witness to me being all too fucked up to play good poker. He asked me if I remembered any of the hands we were involved in and I said, “Absolutely not.” He told me about one bluff he ran on me but felt bad about, knowing full well I was nearly incapacitated.
“Not a problem,” I responded, “My goal for day 1 in Tunica was to get rip roarin’ drunk. I believe I succeeded.”
He concurred.
****
After chipping up to slightly over $300, I found AQ of spades in early position; and after a couple of limpers, raised it to $12. mini’s B-ball coach looked down at his cards and said “Raise.”
“Twenty-five to go,” he said as he tossed in 5 red chips. With one limper calling, I was going to see a flop with my hand and just called the extra $13.
Black Betty, bam-a-lam. The flop was King high, all spades. Two checks to the coach, and he fired out $100. After the EP limper folded, I took the maximum EV play and check-raised him all-in. It was only $185 more for him to call.
“Did you flop it? I have a monster here.” He tabled his Aces and made an attempt to put a read on me. I tried to look like I was bluffing, and stared directly down at the table refusing to make eye contact. Finally, he talked himself into calling. I showed my hand and after the board didn’t pair on the turn, he was drawing dead.
****
Coach took it well. He was still up for the evening a few hundred but based on the conversation over the next hour or so, he wasn’t going to forget that hand any time soon.
While I won that pot, it remains to be seen if my son’s playing time just went down the drain.
Monday, January 29, 2007
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Def Leppard
We interrupt this Tunica trip report with news that I'll be playing in the FTOPS events #2 and #6. Rocket. Yeah. Satellite o' Love.
N V
It was another day and another venue. Rather than hit up the Horseshoe again, we decided that the Gold Strike would be our destination. Frankly, I prefer the Strike. Automatic card shufflers in each table to speed up the game as well as ceramic chips that stay much cleaner than their clay counterparts make for a better poker experience in this player’s opinion. Due to conflicting wake up schedules, G-Rob and I arrived first. Apparently, TheMark is a heavy sleeper.
There’s no cap at the Gold Strike NL tables, even for $1/$2. When I sat down at my table, nobody was very deep, so I bought in for $300. I hovered between up and down $100 for hours it seemed. Eventually, Maudie sat to my left ready for some more $1/$2NL, feeling good about her play from the previous night. I watched her catch some cards and outplay a few folks in the process. Yours truly included.
I’m sitting there, just having been dealt 89d and about four people see the T7x flop. I’m open-ended and decide to lead out. Maudie and the player to my right call. The turn is an 8, pairing me up and still leaving me open-ended. I lead out again for a bit more and still both players call. There’s no flush draw on the board so I have to put each player squarely on holding a 9 at this point. The river is a J and I’ve hit my straight. Finally, the player to my right leads out for about ½ the pot and I’m confident we’re splitting. I smooth call, which looking back was perhaps a mistake. Frankly, I didn’t anticipate what happened next. Maudie raised 4x the bet. I immediately put her on Q9 for the nuts. I was immediately wrong. When the player to my right called, I folded. I figured there was no way she’d raise that much without the nuts against two other players. Well, like I said, I was wrong. They each tabled A9 and K9 suited respectively and split the pot. I got outplayed there for sure. Ni han, sir, ni han.
So I’m sitting there hovering around my initial buy-in and by this point Maudie had about quadrupled up. I’ll confess to having stack envy at times at the tables in G-Vegas. There’s nothing like having the $1k stack at a $200 buy-in game, and when either G-Rob, TheMark, Otis or GucciRick are sitting behind one, I’m certainly envious as I’m sure they are of me when the situation is reversed. But in this case, for Maudie, I was simply flat-out happy for her. She’s good people and was playing very, very well.
An older gentleman sat down with a huge stack of $100’s and only but a few red bird chips in front. I would guess he had perhaps fifteen of those bills stacked oh so neatly behind his lonely, single chip stack. Maudie was the big blind and flat called the gentlemen’s preflop raise. The flop was AKQ and Maudie led out for $40. She was min-raised to $80. Still with about $700 behind, she went all in. This time, I was exactly correct about her hand. That size bet on that size pot says one thing, “I have TJ for the nuts.” Apparently, the older gentlemen was hard of hearing because he insta-called and tabled AQ for two-pair. The turn brought a King just to scare Maudie a bit, but she sweated the river and took down a $1600 pot. Stack envy indeed.
There’s no cap at the Gold Strike NL tables, even for $1/$2. When I sat down at my table, nobody was very deep, so I bought in for $300. I hovered between up and down $100 for hours it seemed. Eventually, Maudie sat to my left ready for some more $1/$2NL, feeling good about her play from the previous night. I watched her catch some cards and outplay a few folks in the process. Yours truly included.
I’m sitting there, just having been dealt 89d and about four people see the T7x flop. I’m open-ended and decide to lead out. Maudie and the player to my right call. The turn is an 8, pairing me up and still leaving me open-ended. I lead out again for a bit more and still both players call. There’s no flush draw on the board so I have to put each player squarely on holding a 9 at this point. The river is a J and I’ve hit my straight. Finally, the player to my right leads out for about ½ the pot and I’m confident we’re splitting. I smooth call, which looking back was perhaps a mistake. Frankly, I didn’t anticipate what happened next. Maudie raised 4x the bet. I immediately put her on Q9 for the nuts. I was immediately wrong. When the player to my right called, I folded. I figured there was no way she’d raise that much without the nuts against two other players. Well, like I said, I was wrong. They each tabled A9 and K9 suited respectively and split the pot. I got outplayed there for sure. Ni han, sir, ni han.
So I’m sitting there hovering around my initial buy-in and by this point Maudie had about quadrupled up. I’ll confess to having stack envy at times at the tables in G-Vegas. There’s nothing like having the $1k stack at a $200 buy-in game, and when either G-Rob, TheMark, Otis or GucciRick are sitting behind one, I’m certainly envious as I’m sure they are of me when the situation is reversed. But in this case, for Maudie, I was simply flat-out happy for her. She’s good people and was playing very, very well.
An older gentleman sat down with a huge stack of $100’s and only but a few red bird chips in front. I would guess he had perhaps fifteen of those bills stacked oh so neatly behind his lonely, single chip stack. Maudie was the big blind and flat called the gentlemen’s preflop raise. The flop was AKQ and Maudie led out for $40. She was min-raised to $80. Still with about $700 behind, she went all in. This time, I was exactly correct about her hand. That size bet on that size pot says one thing, “I have TJ for the nuts.” Apparently, the older gentlemen was hard of hearing because he insta-called and tabled AQ for two-pair. The turn brought a King just to scare Maudie a bit, but she sweated the river and took down a $1600 pot. Stack envy indeed.
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Day 1 Ends
I ungraciously excused myself from the 1/2NL table after a suckout, to which one of the players sarcastically jibed at me, “Don’t worry man, you’ll grind it back up.” Not one for confrontations, I ignored the guy and sat down with the recently arrived Otis and TheMark at a 2/5NL table. CJ and G-Rob were there too. In what could well be described as the ultimate in stupid table selection, the 5 of us sat at the same table more deeply stacked than we’d ever played at home in G-Vegas. There were three other people at the table too, one of which would be about to donate $2500 to the rest of the players.
I believe we called him “Fur Coat Guy.” He was of African American descent and wore a very fluffy, very furry, very un-cool black coat. Well, maybe it was cool and I just had the wrong perspective. He was horrible at poker. During one hand when the board had a four card straight but had flopped three clubs, Fur Coat Guy led out with a sizeable bet. A player to the right of CJ flat called and then CJ pushed. Even though we were at the Horseshoe at the time, players over at the Gold Strike knew that CJ had flopped a flush. Fur Coat Guy called with the ass-end of the straight. Imagine a board of 89TQx and you’re holding 67. Do you call here? Not only did Fur Coat Guy call CJ, but the other guy to his right also called him. Free fuckin’ money right there. Sadly I couldn’t get much of it. I did post a winning session there, which quelled my asinine losses at the previous table.
Lest there be any accusations of us slow-playing one another, TheMark and G-Rob got into a classic dick-swinging contest for which they are famous. On a J35 rainbow board, both players got it all-in on the flop. TheMark held JJ and looked good with top set. When the turn brought an Ace and the river a blank, G-Rob scooped the pot. Nothing like busting a set of Jacks with 24o.
After the 5 of us started to hit a wall, we left the game at about 5:30am.
I believe we called him “Fur Coat Guy.” He was of African American descent and wore a very fluffy, very furry, very un-cool black coat. Well, maybe it was cool and I just had the wrong perspective. He was horrible at poker. During one hand when the board had a four card straight but had flopped three clubs, Fur Coat Guy led out with a sizeable bet. A player to the right of CJ flat called and then CJ pushed. Even though we were at the Horseshoe at the time, players over at the Gold Strike knew that CJ had flopped a flush. Fur Coat Guy called with the ass-end of the straight. Imagine a board of 89TQx and you’re holding 67. Do you call here? Not only did Fur Coat Guy call CJ, but the other guy to his right also called him. Free fuckin’ money right there. Sadly I couldn’t get much of it. I did post a winning session there, which quelled my asinine losses at the previous table.
Lest there be any accusations of us slow-playing one another, TheMark and G-Rob got into a classic dick-swinging contest for which they are famous. On a J35 rainbow board, both players got it all-in on the flop. TheMark held JJ and looked good with top set. When the turn brought an Ace and the river a blank, G-Rob scooped the pot. Nothing like busting a set of Jacks with 24o.
After the 5 of us started to hit a wall, we left the game at about 5:30am.
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
Nick Tuna - Day 1
While there would be five of us in all heading to Tunica, our routes would be much different. CJ was driving and perhaps had the least to worry about with respect to travel delays. Late last year, G-Rob and I booked what we thought were cheaper flights out of Charlotte rather than Greenville. It turns out prices were on the way down, not up. For the following three weeks we heard how Otis and TheMark booked out of GSP for much cheaper. In every email and at every home game conversation, they took every opportunity to remind us of the additional 75-minutes worth of travel time and the additional $60 cost of our flights. And just as I would be reminded of on Sunday with the Pats leading at half-time, you just don’t tempt the Gods of Randomness until after the fact. Those Gods don’t like braggarts.
I have a friend that works out of GSP International for the TSA, who whenever he sees me in the security line yells out for all to hear, “Get me the elbow length gloves and all the lube we’ve got!” I laugh each time. In Charlotte, I still managed to find my way into the arms of a TSA agent after setting off the metal detector three consecutive times. Unlike Derek Smalls, I did not have a cucumber wrapped in tinfoil in my pants. Sadly, I had failed to take out my iPod from my pocket, simply forgetting it was there. G-Rob made fun of my idiocy, costing as at least 5 minutes of early morning drinking at the airport bar. To make up for it, I picked up the tab, tipping our friendly tendress Pearline enough to hopefully make my karma for the week tip towards the good side.
Our flight finally took off after an hour delay. We needed to be de-iced, but thankfully Charlotte is a far bigger airport than Greenville. I wondered aloud to G-Rob if GSP’s fewer resources would impact Otis’ and TheMark’s flight since the weather was just above freezing. They were due in Memphis forty minutes ahead of us if their flight had taken off as scheduled.
Through the miracle of DVD-decrypter and Videora iPod converter, I watched X-Men 3 on my iPod to pass the time. When we finally landed in Memphis and contacted Otis, we heard the bad, if not slightly amusing news. Their flight out of GSP had been cancelled. Using some of TheMark’s classic verbal wrangling, they tried all they could to get to Memphis by 5pm. At this point in our story, they were stuck in Atlanta, Otis deeply mired in travel tilt. G-Rob and I were forced to take a cab to Tunica rather than wait for Otis and his rental car. Another small price to pay.
After a quick check in to our free room at the Grand, I phoned Maudie to see what was going on. She was at the Horseshoe playing some friendly 4/8 poker waiting around for Miss Gracie to arrive. G-Rob and I took a shuttle and met her in the poker room and placed our name on a 1/2NL list. Our drinking began anew.
In another tilt-inducing move, I text-messaged Otis that the Horseshoe poker room served free Grey Goose martinis. His only reply was an exclamation point. The waitress kept them coming and I was fully engaged in my plans to spend my first night in Tunica drinking and playing moron poker. I passed with flying colors.
After successfully pushing my stack into the nuts not once but twice, I realized that even at a 1/2NL table, I could lose more than I wanted to if I continued at this pace. So I slowed down the drinking after I pushed my short stack all-in pre-flop with pocket tens. G-Rob was one of the two callers who called my bet, each tabling pocket Aces. With the T33 flop, I had cracked them both. While I raked in that particular pot, I felt the familiar heat of embarrassment rush to my face. It was time to smarten up and cease being the idiot at the table.
I had displayed my stupid side for too many people. Gracie, Maudie, and even DealerTim from the Spring Hotel who had found his way down to Tunica, bore witness to some of the worst poker play I’ve ever displayed. The only solace was that it was past midnight and Otis and TheMark still hadn’t arrived.
I have a friend that works out of GSP International for the TSA, who whenever he sees me in the security line yells out for all to hear, “Get me the elbow length gloves and all the lube we’ve got!” I laugh each time. In Charlotte, I still managed to find my way into the arms of a TSA agent after setting off the metal detector three consecutive times. Unlike Derek Smalls, I did not have a cucumber wrapped in tinfoil in my pants. Sadly, I had failed to take out my iPod from my pocket, simply forgetting it was there. G-Rob made fun of my idiocy, costing as at least 5 minutes of early morning drinking at the airport bar. To make up for it, I picked up the tab, tipping our friendly tendress Pearline enough to hopefully make my karma for the week tip towards the good side.
Our flight finally took off after an hour delay. We needed to be de-iced, but thankfully Charlotte is a far bigger airport than Greenville. I wondered aloud to G-Rob if GSP’s fewer resources would impact Otis’ and TheMark’s flight since the weather was just above freezing. They were due in Memphis forty minutes ahead of us if their flight had taken off as scheduled.
Through the miracle of DVD-decrypter and Videora iPod converter, I watched X-Men 3 on my iPod to pass the time. When we finally landed in Memphis and contacted Otis, we heard the bad, if not slightly amusing news. Their flight out of GSP had been cancelled. Using some of TheMark’s classic verbal wrangling, they tried all they could to get to Memphis by 5pm. At this point in our story, they were stuck in Atlanta, Otis deeply mired in travel tilt. G-Rob and I were forced to take a cab to Tunica rather than wait for Otis and his rental car. Another small price to pay.
After a quick check in to our free room at the Grand, I phoned Maudie to see what was going on. She was at the Horseshoe playing some friendly 4/8 poker waiting around for Miss Gracie to arrive. G-Rob and I took a shuttle and met her in the poker room and placed our name on a 1/2NL list. Our drinking began anew.
In another tilt-inducing move, I text-messaged Otis that the Horseshoe poker room served free Grey Goose martinis. His only reply was an exclamation point. The waitress kept them coming and I was fully engaged in my plans to spend my first night in Tunica drinking and playing moron poker. I passed with flying colors.
After successfully pushing my stack into the nuts not once but twice, I realized that even at a 1/2NL table, I could lose more than I wanted to if I continued at this pace. So I slowed down the drinking after I pushed my short stack all-in pre-flop with pocket tens. G-Rob was one of the two callers who called my bet, each tabling pocket Aces. With the T33 flop, I had cracked them both. While I raked in that particular pot, I felt the familiar heat of embarrassment rush to my face. It was time to smarten up and cease being the idiot at the table.
I had displayed my stupid side for too many people. Gracie, Maudie, and even DealerTim from the Spring Hotel who had found his way down to Tunica, bore witness to some of the worst poker play I’ve ever displayed. The only solace was that it was past midnight and Otis and TheMark still hadn’t arrived.
Monday, January 22, 2007
Back
Posts forthcoming....
Freaking exhausted, and I went home early each night comparitively speaking. (4am, 6am, 4am)
The G-Rob, Otis, CJ express pulled one all-nighter which was just stupid sick. I cannot compete.
A small teaser: One G-Vegas veteran took a $3500 bat beat via a one-outer.
Freaking exhausted, and I went home early each night comparitively speaking. (4am, 6am, 4am)
The G-Rob, Otis, CJ express pulled one all-nighter which was just stupid sick. I cannot compete.
A small teaser: One G-Vegas veteran took a $3500 bat beat via a one-outer.
Monday, January 15, 2007
Fool Proof
Well, color me dumb. Someone else went out and bought the furniture at its reduced price the day before my wife could get back there. Ooops. Best laid plans and all.
The countdown to Tunica is at 3 days right now. Based on my ability to make solid, fool-proof plans, here’s what I anticipate going down in Mississippi.
I will arrive in Memphis on Thursday wherein G-Rob and I will meet up with Otis and TheMark. Because those two booked later than us, they were able to fly though GSP less expensively than our flights were through Charlotte. We gambled on prices going up and lost. Still, their 40-minute wait time for us will allow them to rent a car for the drive to Tunica.
We will check in to the Grand and formulate the plan for Day 1. For me, Day 1 will include a trip to the Gold Strike Casino and their $1/$2 NL tables. I plan on easing into the trip rather than head right to $2/$5. Soon after sitting down, I will be dealt pocket Jacks and flop quads. My skill at slowplaying them will be rewarded with a bad beat against runner-runner straight flush. Oddly, that will have been my plan all along.
I will gaze up at the LED in the poker room to the sign that says: Bad Beat Jackpot - $80,000. I will receive my loser’s 40% share and collect my $32k. After which point, I will register for the WPT main event that is to start on Sunday, the day I’m supposed to leave.
I will re-book my flight home to coincide with my final table appearance. I will luckbox my way to a several hundred thousand dollar payoff by finishing 3rd.
Sounds pretty reasonable.
The countdown to Tunica is at 3 days right now. Based on my ability to make solid, fool-proof plans, here’s what I anticipate going down in Mississippi.
I will arrive in Memphis on Thursday wherein G-Rob and I will meet up with Otis and TheMark. Because those two booked later than us, they were able to fly though GSP less expensively than our flights were through Charlotte. We gambled on prices going up and lost. Still, their 40-minute wait time for us will allow them to rent a car for the drive to Tunica.
We will check in to the Grand and formulate the plan for Day 1. For me, Day 1 will include a trip to the Gold Strike Casino and their $1/$2 NL tables. I plan on easing into the trip rather than head right to $2/$5. Soon after sitting down, I will be dealt pocket Jacks and flop quads. My skill at slowplaying them will be rewarded with a bad beat against runner-runner straight flush. Oddly, that will have been my plan all along.
I will gaze up at the LED in the poker room to the sign that says: Bad Beat Jackpot - $80,000. I will receive my loser’s 40% share and collect my $32k. After which point, I will register for the WPT main event that is to start on Sunday, the day I’m supposed to leave.
I will re-book my flight home to coincide with my final table appearance. I will luckbox my way to a several hundred thousand dollar payoff by finishing 3rd.
Sounds pretty reasonable.
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