PART THE SECOND
2009.01.11
I've been on a Vegas tournament hot streak, chopping four of the last six I've played, including the Venetian nooner on my previous visit. Let's keep it rolling!
No sooner do I walk out the door of the Tropicana than I see the Deuce pulling up. I run as fast as my gimpy legs will allow, smiling and waving at the bus, which seems to be waiting for me. As I close in, it picks up and pulls away. Mother pus-bucket. I hope everybody watching enjoyed a nice chuckle from it, I have plenty of time.
I arrive at the Venetian and sign up, an old pro by now. I'm even able to avoid the nasty corridor of perfumed stink that causes angry nose and itchy skin. I've an hour before it starts, time to walk the canal and shop the windows. I wonder if the Eternal Dusk lighting scheme is effective in generating that "just about to go out" excited state. I stop in at a hat-seller (hatter? hattier?) and spy a specimen that would look rather fetching on my noggin. Tournament Victory Hat, that's what it'll be. I shall return this evening.
Having exhausted this activity (with no luck finding leftover attendees of the Adult Video conference), I elect for some exercise. Laugh if you must, but I feel getting the blood pumping before a strenuous mental activity is beneficial. The brain needs oxygen, and I'll be sitting on my duff all day. To that end, I find an extra-tall staircase in the casino and run down and up. And again. And again. I do this perhaps a dozen times, people on both escalators giving me the hairy eyeball. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Keep it flowing, body in balance. I'm pumped, I'm primed, I'm ready.
Despite the name, this tournament isn't all that deep-stacked. The 7500 in chips is nice, but after a few rounds it's like any other cheap tourney. Because of this, I'm not getting out of line with trouble hands. Suited connectors maybe on the button, but other than that, only pairs and big Aces. Stab me in the throat if you find me with KJ. I catch AA twice in the first round, both times re-raise the same person preflop, take it down on the flop. Up to 9400. Unfortunately, in the next few rounds I have an AK that doesn't hit and an A8s that gets me in trouble, so I'm down to 5100 at the first break.
Bloodflow! This time the staircases just outside the poker room. Up one, down the other. Up and down. After half a dozen times, the folks in the booth at the top must be wondering who this crazy person is who keeps running past them, but oh well. A few mental exercises and psyche-ups, time for more cards.
Several of the dealers have been excellent, including Eric, Shane, and Rachel. Unfortunately, now we have Kathleen in the box, who seems generally competent until the following: Seat 1 says "Raise" and Seat 3 (same guy I kept 3-betting with my Aces) folds before an amount is clarified. Earlier, Rachel had admonished players for this and explained why. Nothing from Kathleen. I pipe up from Seat 7 with, "Hey, mind waiting until he's done next time?" and the player is all, "WTF, he said raise, piss off." At this point I expect the dealer to pick up the slack, but instead she turns to me and lectures that the player said raise so the fold is not out of turn. I protest that the raise wasn't complete and she asks if I want to call the floor. I want to move on, so I shrug and let it go.
I'm getting hungry and I don't think I can wait until the next break to eat, so I call food service. I see a new dealer before I see a menu, so I call again. I get the floor involved, who apologizes that he's doing what he can. I understand, but my tummy feels differently.
It's not quite fit-or-fold time, but I like to push a little earlier than most tend to think about it. Any reasonable raise makes it more likely someone will be committed, and I don't like calling all-in. Nobody wants to bust out in this phase, so my AK and JJ pushes pull in the blinds and some limps, keeping me alive.
At this point the lack of food service would be comical were not my stomach eating itself. I pass on the offer of a mostly-consumed quesadilla someone had left behind, but then the floor announces that there's an unclaimed cheeseburger sitting around. "I'll have it!" I yell from the back of the room. Then I reconsider: "Do I have to pay for it?" Yes. I'll take a free pile of heart-clogging grease, but I'm not buying it. Considering how vocal my food requests have been, I get some ribbing for this, but I simply don't feel it will keep me alert for the game.
Finally I get it. No, not food. AA on the button. Everybody folds to me. Grr. The BB seems tired of my aggression, so I make a standard raise, my best to make it look like I'm afraid of pushing again. He raises to about half my stack, so I count down my chips with a "well, if I'm gonna call..." shrug and throw them in. He calls with KK. Hollywooding probably made no difference here, but I can at least feel like it played a part. He has me barely covered, and now I'm sitting more comfortably with over 10k.
The floor informs me that the food server is in the room and will be over to me shortly. Score!
I peel up KK with 9500 and see a couple of limps of 400. Push. Take it down. Should I have bet less? I'm so hungry.
I look around the room and see no food servers whatsoever. Boo. Last time I played this tournament, they stole the sandwich a friend had bought for me. Not falling for that one again, I'm trying to order within the room, but they won't have it. The Venetian doesn't want me to eat.
My hand is 77 with 8500 and I face two limps of 600. Push. Take it down. I'm happy with this result.
Wait, who's that? Someone wearing a vest and holding a menu? Standing next to me? It can't be! I have cards and the button, so I tell her that she should stand and wait right there until I order, otherwise she's going to find herself tackled on the floor. I find 64s and nobody in the pot. I have a twinge about it, but feel I'm short enough to make a move yet big enough to scare people off, and I'm distracted by my desire to order food, so I throw the chips in. Called by the BB, same guy who almost went broke with KK. Crap! He has 77, I don't even come close to improving, now I'm a microstack.
I order the Minestrone. More ribbing. After all that whining, I'm only getting soup? Hey, I eat a little throughout the day, it has vegetables, and it's cheap. Besides, how long can it take to prepare? Tummy needs nourishment!
The blinds are 400/800 with antes, I have A4o and 2575, let's get 'em in. Called by the BB who shows 52o. A flop of KK6 and I'm looking good until the turn pairs the 5. A miracle 6 on the river and I yell "Ship it!" while the dealer points out to me that he paired his 5. "That's nice, but I'll take Kings and Sixes, along with the pot." Never release your cards until you have the chips. Ever. Another push with AKs, no callers, and my stack is where it was before my earlier fumble.
Still no food, but at least she brought crackers and a spoon! I ration one saltine to tide me over and our table breaks. The floor assures me he'll let the server know where I am. We'll see.
I'm off to Table 37, Seat 9. This spot is a good candidate for Final Table, which is nice because it means chips come to us and I don't have to move again. I'm a big fan of the 9 seat because I can see everybody while being out of the way, and my view of the action isn't blocked as with Seats 1 or 2. However, it's not long before I discover the fatal flaw: It's afternoon. That big row of glass doors provides the setting sun ample room in which to blind me. Awesome.
People ask me why the hell I'm slowly eating crackers, and I explain my situation. The dealer chuckles and says that while it sometimes takes a while, the food is delicious. It had better be. We go on a break and I worry that they'll show up and leave with my food before I get back. The food I was trying so desperately to order long before the break.
Finally, twenty-five minutes after I've ordered and well over an hour since I first requested service, my soup arrives! It's hardly a soup, it has so much hearty stuff in it. The blinds are high and I'm short-stack again, so I feel A6o is good enough for pushing. A4o feels it's good enough for calling, but unfortunately so does AKo. No improvement for anybody and I'm done in 45th place. No hat for me. I stay in my seat and finish my soup.
It's delicious.
... next up: Who is this young woman tearing up the V's high-stakes cash games? ...
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Saturday, January 10, 2009
wherein our hero learns a little about human nature
PART THE FIRST
2009.01.10
It's been a busy few weeks.
Barely home from my previous Vegas trip in time for Chranukwanstice and all the goofiness that entails. After that, New Year's parties. As a stinky hippie, my plans involve music concerts and there were plenty of choices in my home region of San Francisco. Good stuff, if you like that kind of thing, and I do, so it worked out well. Barely time to rest, on New Year's Day I packed and left for Florida, from where I set sail on Jamcruise: a music festival on a cruise ship. This year we went to Belize, dancing and tripping the week away. Returned to port on January 9, then another cross-country flight home.
That brings us to this morning. Time to clean and pack and leave again for Vegas! I've yet to make solid plans for lodging, so I ring up Budget Suites. I had spoken with someone a few weeks ago who suggested I try again in January because rates might go down. No go. I'm only in town for four days, but I still need to pay for a week, which will come to over $300. While the idea of lodging with strippers is appealing, the rate combined with its off-strip location relegates it to backup plan.
I stayed at MGM last time for $40/night, so let's give that a whirl. I talk to a person in reservations who says the current rates are under $70/night, and that I could probably get more of a discount if I talk to the poker room. I do and get told the lowest they can do is $90/night. But the regular rate is less than that, and last time I was in town I got $40/night just from asking. Apparently last month had a tear in time and space because the mere concept of this is completely foreign. Back to reservations, where the rate is now over $100/night. But it was cheaper only five minutes ago! You snooze, you lose.
A friend points me to expedia, with Stratosphere at $30, Flamingo around $50. Now we're talking. I remind myself about hotwire. They give discounted rates, but I don't know the exact location until after I book. The description of a $32 room is a 3-star South Strip location. The map they provide is a little vague about how far off the Strip this includes, but if it's on the Strip it's perfect. I throw caution to the wind, close my eyes, and book it.
Tropicana! Score! Some people have issue with burn marks on the furniture and bloodstains on the shower curtains, but I'm not one of those people. I love the Old Vegas charm. I had spent a chunk of my roll on the aforementioned cruise to Belize, and I'm trying to keep expenses at an absolute minimum, so this works for me. To continue the cheapskate theme, I hit up the grocer for granola, yogurt, bagels, schmear, and fruit. I'm tired of paying $20 for an omelet. Money saved at breakfast spends the same as money won on the table. If I'm going to do this seriously, I need to take this seriously.
Ah, airports. If you need proof regarding the pending collapse of civilization, look no further. People seem determined to focus on immediate selfish needs, even if by doing so they work against themselves. For example, baggage claim. Everybody is clustered against the carousel. This means hardly anybody can see and everybody has to push and shove to get a bag out. If everybody simply steps back ten feet, then everybody has a wider viewing angle and everybody can easily walk up when the appropriate bags come down the line. It's a game that everybody can win, but hardly anybody goes along with me when I suggest this. We're doomed.
At the Trop! Determined to be holla balla, I try the $20 trick and score! I don't think the rooms are any better, but it gets me a spot in the tower. You can spend your $20 on suites in the posh places, I'll use mine to save me four days of walking to the ass end of their compound. I'm doubly pleased when I discover a refrigerator in the room, which means I won't have to keep loading up my cooler with ice. This is more than I had in a "nice" room on my last trip, and I can see from my window that I'm closer to the MGM poker room than I was when I stayed at the MGM.
Time (finally) for some poker! MGM, right? Bzzt, nope, I'm headed to Excalibur! The .5/1 tables are just my speed right now, and I dig the vibe of the clientele. I call up a local friend who meets me down there and it's a casual night of electronic cards.
I'm doing fairly well until my brain seizes up and I make a crying call with 22 on a board of 92888. What the hell? I might as well have 4-high. That's what I get for trying to milk it. Other than that I have some nice hands and build up a stack. I get some value with AQ top pair versus both straight and flush draws that don't come. My buddy, who usually plays bigger games, can't take this one seriously and ultimately busts out due to trying to bully with 5-high. Three times. At least he got some beers.
I take a bit of a hit when I limp/call with 77 in EP. Three-way flop of J62, all diamonds. Checked to me, I figure I'm ahead. Villain stacks are barely larger than the pot, so I push. One fold, but I get a call from middle set. At least I have the 7d, but it wasn't meant to be.
I'm able to build back up and the table has become rather loose and aggressive, so I limp AA in EP. The woman directly to my left makes it $12 to go (on a $1 BB, mind you), which she's been doing with medium pocket pairs. She astonishingly gets four callers, and now it's back to me. The pot is over $60, I have about $120, so I push, muttering under my breath that I should've done that with my 7s. Another player is egging people to look me up. After a couple of times I say, "C'mon, one player to a hand." This does the trick because the guy tanking with JJ calls me and I'm able to add a nice chunk to my stack.
Another fun hand, the big stack to my right limps, I make a questionable raise with AJo. A couple of callers including the big stack and the flop is AJJ. Glorious. Even better is that he's betting into me. I call the flop, raise the turn, bet the river, and take almost all of his chips when he shows AQ. This game is easy!
After a while the table has dried up, I'm up a couple of buyins, and I feel I've had enough. I want to take my profits and play the Venetian nooner tomorrow, so I call it a night, collect my food comps, and head back over the bridge. So far the trip is turning out quite well. We'll see if I can maintain.
... next up: Repeat at Venetian? ...
2009.01.10
It's been a busy few weeks.
Barely home from my previous Vegas trip in time for Chranukwanstice and all the goofiness that entails. After that, New Year's parties. As a stinky hippie, my plans involve music concerts and there were plenty of choices in my home region of San Francisco. Good stuff, if you like that kind of thing, and I do, so it worked out well. Barely time to rest, on New Year's Day I packed and left for Florida, from where I set sail on Jamcruise: a music festival on a cruise ship. This year we went to Belize, dancing and tripping the week away. Returned to port on January 9, then another cross-country flight home.
That brings us to this morning. Time to clean and pack and leave again for Vegas! I've yet to make solid plans for lodging, so I ring up Budget Suites. I had spoken with someone a few weeks ago who suggested I try again in January because rates might go down. No go. I'm only in town for four days, but I still need to pay for a week, which will come to over $300. While the idea of lodging with strippers is appealing, the rate combined with its off-strip location relegates it to backup plan.
I stayed at MGM last time for $40/night, so let's give that a whirl. I talk to a person in reservations who says the current rates are under $70/night, and that I could probably get more of a discount if I talk to the poker room. I do and get told the lowest they can do is $90/night. But the regular rate is less than that, and last time I was in town I got $40/night just from asking. Apparently last month had a tear in time and space because the mere concept of this is completely foreign. Back to reservations, where the rate is now over $100/night. But it was cheaper only five minutes ago! You snooze, you lose.
A friend points me to expedia, with Stratosphere at $30, Flamingo around $50. Now we're talking. I remind myself about hotwire. They give discounted rates, but I don't know the exact location until after I book. The description of a $32 room is a 3-star South Strip location. The map they provide is a little vague about how far off the Strip this includes, but if it's on the Strip it's perfect. I throw caution to the wind, close my eyes, and book it.
Tropicana! Score! Some people have issue with burn marks on the furniture and bloodstains on the shower curtains, but I'm not one of those people. I love the Old Vegas charm. I had spent a chunk of my roll on the aforementioned cruise to Belize, and I'm trying to keep expenses at an absolute minimum, so this works for me. To continue the cheapskate theme, I hit up the grocer for granola, yogurt, bagels, schmear, and fruit. I'm tired of paying $20 for an omelet. Money saved at breakfast spends the same as money won on the table. If I'm going to do this seriously, I need to take this seriously.
Ah, airports. If you need proof regarding the pending collapse of civilization, look no further. People seem determined to focus on immediate selfish needs, even if by doing so they work against themselves. For example, baggage claim. Everybody is clustered against the carousel. This means hardly anybody can see and everybody has to push and shove to get a bag out. If everybody simply steps back ten feet, then everybody has a wider viewing angle and everybody can easily walk up when the appropriate bags come down the line. It's a game that everybody can win, but hardly anybody goes along with me when I suggest this. We're doomed.
At the Trop! Determined to be holla balla, I try the $20 trick and score! I don't think the rooms are any better, but it gets me a spot in the tower. You can spend your $20 on suites in the posh places, I'll use mine to save me four days of walking to the ass end of their compound. I'm doubly pleased when I discover a refrigerator in the room, which means I won't have to keep loading up my cooler with ice. This is more than I had in a "nice" room on my last trip, and I can see from my window that I'm closer to the MGM poker room than I was when I stayed at the MGM.
Time (finally) for some poker! MGM, right? Bzzt, nope, I'm headed to Excalibur! The .5/1 tables are just my speed right now, and I dig the vibe of the clientele. I call up a local friend who meets me down there and it's a casual night of electronic cards.
I'm doing fairly well until my brain seizes up and I make a crying call with 22 on a board of 92888. What the hell? I might as well have 4-high. That's what I get for trying to milk it. Other than that I have some nice hands and build up a stack. I get some value with AQ top pair versus both straight and flush draws that don't come. My buddy, who usually plays bigger games, can't take this one seriously and ultimately busts out due to trying to bully with 5-high. Three times. At least he got some beers.
I take a bit of a hit when I limp/call with 77 in EP. Three-way flop of J62, all diamonds. Checked to me, I figure I'm ahead. Villain stacks are barely larger than the pot, so I push. One fold, but I get a call from middle set. At least I have the 7d, but it wasn't meant to be.
I'm able to build back up and the table has become rather loose and aggressive, so I limp AA in EP. The woman directly to my left makes it $12 to go (on a $1 BB, mind you), which she's been doing with medium pocket pairs. She astonishingly gets four callers, and now it's back to me. The pot is over $60, I have about $120, so I push, muttering under my breath that I should've done that with my 7s. Another player is egging people to look me up. After a couple of times I say, "C'mon, one player to a hand." This does the trick because the guy tanking with JJ calls me and I'm able to add a nice chunk to my stack.
Another fun hand, the big stack to my right limps, I make a questionable raise with AJo. A couple of callers including the big stack and the flop is AJJ. Glorious. Even better is that he's betting into me. I call the flop, raise the turn, bet the river, and take almost all of his chips when he shows AQ. This game is easy!
After a while the table has dried up, I'm up a couple of buyins, and I feel I've had enough. I want to take my profits and play the Venetian nooner tomorrow, so I call it a night, collect my food comps, and head back over the bridge. So far the trip is turning out quite well. We'll see if I can maintain.
... next up: Repeat at Venetian? ...
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