The trip was a phenomenal success in every way that mattered - except for my results.
I returned home down just over $400. I cashed in 2 out of the 9 tournaments I played, which is actually a very good percentage for these things. Unfortunately both cashes were min-cashes in minor events.
The good news, I learned a lot and had a blast. Best of all, it was just my brother and I, so we had a lot of time to just hang, chat and catch up. He even took me to the fabulous fitness center at the Orleans and showed me how to use a few weight lifting machines for the first time in my life, so now I have zero excuse for not going to the gym.
It all started on a Thursday at the Orleans. One of these days I'm going to cash at this place - the tournaments are structured superbly, the room is run well, everything about it is great - but the clientele is a bit too seasoned to make the room profitable for me.
I'm not saying I was outclassed, but probably the majority of players that sat around me each had more live hours than I did. And they were also nits - meaning they rarely spewed, frequently folded unless they had the goods and were very skilled at value betting me to death.
My first tournament, the $75 nooner, was over in a couple of hours. I didn't have many cards to work with, and the occasional pocket pair I did get amounted to nothing after the flop. I finally got it in pre-flop around 15 big blinds with AJ and ran into AK.
The good news was, I went and saw Jackass 3D at the outstanding Orleans movie theater. Good times, and a most excellent film, replete with fecal matter and genital smashing mayhem. All in eye-popping high speed camera 3D!
After a surprisingly disappointing dinner burger at Fuddruckers I signed up for the $75 7pm Omaha/8 tournament!
This was a lot of fun, and I was surprised at how deep I made it. Levels got pretty painful about 3 hours in, when I flopped a boat and a draw to the nut low. I had A532, the board read 5A5. I fired out on every street and got called down by a fellow with AJ who naturally spiked a fish hook on the river after a meaningless queen on the turn.
I wasn't busted on this hand, but crippled, and out shortly thereafter. I was lightly steamed, but happy to have been so far ahead of a 3 outer who wasn't even drawing to the low end himself.
The next morning I sprang out of bed bright and early and headed down to the Monte Carlo for their $50 9am tournament.
As I mentioned in my pre-Vegas post, this place has absolutely terribly structured tournaments - super turbos - but a very friendly staff and an ultra-mellow early morning vibe that make it a fun place to practice poker.
Turned out, it was also a profitable place on this particular morning. Honestly, there wasn't one regular, or even a serious recreational player in the whole bunch of four tables. There was a chip splashing British gentleman who was running like a God, but thankfully had zero clue about bet sizing and c-betting. I looked forward to getting it in with him crushed, but it turned out I didn't need to, there were so many other spectacularly bad players that I accumulated just by three and c-betting in the right spots and getting people to fold. When these guys and gals had nothing, they folded. When they hit a piece, they called to the death - which was great if I had two pair or better. I value bet one poor lady into oblivion on two separate hands.
The big one was as such. Blinds low, my stack at about average. Four limpers, I'm on the button with pocket 7's. When in Rome, right? I had been three betting big to isolate, but with only mixed results. This time I limped behind.
Flop was 7 A x. Lady in middle position min-bet. Folded to me, I three bet her with a pot sized raise. Folded to her, she called.
Turn was a Q. She checked. I bet 1/2 of the pot. Call. River was a Queen. She checked. I bet slightly bigger than half the pot. She hemmed and hawed for about 20 seconds. Then called me with AJ. Good times.
Before I knew what had happened, I was in the money with three players. I stuck in my stack with pocket kings and the good natured Brit called me with a baby Ace. We all know the end to this story.
I cashed for $220 - up $20 total so far.
Then it was on to playing with the big boys at the Venetian $150 nooner.
This was a great day. I played for 6 hours.
Early on I had some fun, made some pretty good reads including...
One limper to me on the button - I had kings. I popped it to x5 the bb. The small blind, a friendly but a bit red-neckish out of towner who I could tell fancied himself a "pretty good" poker player, whined in a good natured way about me picking on his blinds and defended. The big blind and the limper folded.
Flop came A A 4. He checked. I c-bet a little less than 1/2 the pot. He Hollywooded a bit before calling, with a big chunk of his stack. I'm done with this hand.
Turn was a blank. He checked. I checked.
River was a face card (I think) - he went into his act and then a speech and then shoved. I insta-folded my kings face up and he was incredulous - "Wow! Man, that is a good fold!" he grinned and showed his A10 proudly. A quiet Asian fellow, who I'd pegged as a regular across the table nodded gently in my direction "Good laydown" he murmured. Pretty obvious, but it still felt good to know that I've at least progressed to the point where I can quickly fall out of love with seductive cowboys and read a rube donkey as if his cards were face up.
Later, I got a bit dry on good starting cards, and the table was simply too experienced for me to get out of line much.
I did get a regular off of his top pair, when I raised a suited connecter from the cutoff that blanked on the flop. "I give you much respect" he said as he showed me his paired ace in the face of my 3 bet to his donk bet. I was a bit off kilter, because I couldn't seem to hit a flop to save my life, and I was lucky that he had enough years at the table to release top pair so quickly.
After the third break, my stack was hovering at around 15 big blinds. I looked down at UTG +1 at Jacks. I stuck it in.
The cutoff tanked for a little bit and then just called (which I knew was a mistake on his part, it committed him to the hand with other bigger stacks still left to act behind him). The button folded and the small blind shoved. It came back to Mr. Cutoff moron and he hemmed and hawed forever before finally calling off his stack entire with AK. The small blind also had AK.
Sounds crazy, but it's true. The flop came AKJ. The turn and river were baby x's and I had tripled up.
Now I was okay, at just under 50 bigs. A short while later I had jacks again. I popped it from middle position.
It folded around to a short stack who shoved, then to the now crippled small blind from the other three way hand who was now the big blind. She also shoved. I had both of them covered substantially. Easy call.
The big blind had AK, the late position short stacker had a pair of tens.
She spiked a ten on the flop. I binked the case jack (as I found out from the another player who said he had J5) on the river.
Easy game.
I felt good as we approached the dinner break. 25 players - they paid 18.
At this point with another hour and big blinds and antes bleeding me a bit, my stack was around 60 big blinds, I was happy to fold to the money, which paid $350 for 18th place. With the departure of the two short stacked females, I was the lone fish left in the tank. I promised myself that I would not play any hands until I reached the moolah - with the exception of aces or kings. If I had the opportunity to get it all in pre-flop with either hand, I would unhesitatingly do so.
Careful what you wish for.
In hindsight, I guess it does actually seem obvious. The one guy at the table who was a bit older, pretty nitty, and fancied himself God's gift to poker - min-raised my standard raise from early position when I looked down at kings. With anyone else, I'd say this was an easy shove. Most of the table knew how to play NLHE with aggression, and had routinely 3 bet light. This guy, not so much, though I do recall a hand where he got it in bad with KQ against AK and sucked out - but still.
One day I will be a world class player and be able to fold my cowboys pre-flop against the eccentric codger who plays transparently with his rockets. But not this day. I stuck it in and fast rolled my kings when he called, he then actually stalled and for dramatic effect (though I confess I knew before his cards hit what he had) slow rolled me a bit with his aces.
"Classy" I thought to myself as the board rolled off harmlessly and his bullets held. This pathetic excuse for a person, not a horrible poker player by any means, pulled out a toy geiger counter and held it over the cards as they came out. He was, it turns out, "The Toy Man" and had a whole duffel bag full of props that he liked to employ at times. I'd never heard of him. "Is that really necessary?" was all I could muster. Other players shook their heads in disgust at his antics. I walked off in silence and within about 5 minutes I felt sorry for him.
Not so sorry for myself. As the famous whale Tony G. says in his unmistakable Aussie accent "You gotta haave haaaaartt!"
And I really believe that, as a poker player, as a gambler, it is necessary to see the forest for the trees, that it does little good to second guess yourself over obvious situations. I planned it ahead of time - if I had aces or kings and could shove pre, I was doing so. I ran into a 1 out of 222 situation, only six combinations of cards, combined with my own 1 out of 222 holdings.
The only part that really hurt was getting so close to being up over $300 for the trip. I skipped on the Mirage bounty, as my brother's flight was delayed because Obama was coming to town. I had a big ass Ruben at the Carnagie deli and it was good, though impossible to finish.
The good Dr. David met up with me and we sauntered over to Treasure Island for the $50 10pm donkament.
This was probably the most fun I had all trip with poker - what a good natured blast this room is. Again, like the Monte Carlo, a shit structure - but great dealers, a truly smoke free environment and plenty of drunken fish to exploit.
No hands of note leap into my mind, though I know I was down to four big blinds at some point (not unusual in a turbo) and managed to wake up with aces and have them hold up in a multi-way pot.
When I sat down to the final table, I was slightly below average, but not desperate even though the blinds were huge. Across from me sat the chip leader - the good Doctor.
It was an amazingly bad batch of players we found ourselves among - standard raises with less than 10bb's abounded. Call with 60% of your stack pre-flop and fold to the c-bet? Naturally. I was truly amazed, and managed to shove a couple of times, once with queens and get looked up and paid with marginal holdings from comparable stacks.
Finally the bubble burst, and I believe I was second or third out after the money. My rags shove got called by Q6 (not a bad call) and I hit the rail booking just under $150 for 4th or 5th place.
Doctor Dave had a sizable chip lead when it went to heads up between him and another recreational player - he got unlucky and ran into a set of sevens which basically rendered him even with his opponent. They chopped first and second, for almost $700 each. Nice.
So Dave was free-rolling on his entry fees, and I was feeling great about my game so far.
I was comfortable as a short stack, comfortable with chips, comfortable among tourists and regulars at the Venetian.
Tomorrow was going to be a great day. And it was. Just not great in the conventional sense.
After my brief and slightly terrifying experiment with the Orleans fitness center, made much easier to bear by the good Doctor, we headed off to the fantabulous Aria for the excellently structured $125 1pm tournament.
I played my best poker so far.
My table was a nice mix of regulars and semi-serious recreational players. With plenty of ammo early on I could speculate, 3 bet and accumulate to my hearts content. There were a couple of crafty old nits who were gold mines - I swear this one guy on my left, all he ever played was Aces and Kings. He called me all the way to the river with his cowboys, and I knew my two pair was good for a nice visit to value town.
4 hours later, my brother busted, two hours after that I was at the final table of 9. They paid 7.
Once again, I looked down at jacks in early position. As the short stack at the table, this was an easy one - in went the chips.
It folded to a codger who I found out later played in this tournament 5 days a week. He asked for a count. He looked concerned. Finally he called. A bit over dramatic, I thought, but at least we're probably racing. Hopefully he has tens and not queens.
I turned up my jacks, he turned up bullets.
I was mad for what I thought was a slow roll - and when he showed I know I said something stupid - stupid because I realized after the board came out (and I hit a gut wrenching straight to crack his aces) that he was smart to act weak with so many big stacks behind him. I disagree with his only calling my bet, regardless of how he behaved he should have shoved, but I agree with his antics - his stack was not healthy enough to be assured of big money. The best case scenario for him was to get it all in in a three-way pot pre-flop by inducing a squeeze. Though he would be significantly less of a favorite, if his rockets held he would have a big ass stack - and that's where the real money is.
"Merry Christmas" he grunted as I raked the chips. I ignored him as I realized it was I who was out of line, for even saying anything to him in the first place. Mum poker is the only poker when you're playing in a big room in a big tournament. Very dumb of me to let his "slow roll" (which was nothing of the sort) get to me.
Not as dumb as 3 hands later.
AQ in early position. I know have enough for a standard raise. So I do it. (Mistake #1 - at a table of regulars and good recreational players, I need to let this go.) Even older and crustier codger flats. Our stacks are close.
Flop comes 225. I check, with the intent of giving up. (Mistake #2 - a minor one, check is okay if I truly am giving up, but as we'll see...)
Turn is a King. Perfect scare card, right? Not really, but then I make the biggest mistake (#3) and c-bet. Now a third of my chips are in the pot. He flats. I'm an idiot.
I don't remember the river, but it was a blank. I shove. Mistake #4 - but the smallest mistake of all. He tanks, FOREVER, and finally, finally, finally makes an excellent call with KJ.
I can get mad at his marginal call. I can get mad at him making the correct decision to look me up with TP mediocre kicker. But this hand, as Jimmy Buffett says, is my own damn fault. Entirely.
Our stacks are close, but he has me covered. I stagger out. What the fuck just happened?
For the first time in live poker, I truly imploded.
I still contend that my biggest mistake was my c-bet, even though if he doesn't have a king he is likely folding - by making this bet I am committing to the hand and sticking it in on the river no matter what card comes. And I'm doing it against an old codger who probably grew up playing limit poker and probably has more hours at the table than I do living my entire life.
He made a good call, though I take some solace that even for him it was a tough one.
After this monstrosity of a finish, I was not in the right frame of mind for poker, though I was anxious to get back on the horse - and I unsurprisingly busted out quickly of the $80 7pm Mirage bounty tournament. It was hilarious table of home game fish though, and I know I would have made a deeper run had my brain been in the right place.
As my brother and I food courted it back at the Orleans, I began to digest what I had done, and for the first time could truly see the positives.
Every serious poker player has melted down - but up until this point, I had never done so in a live game. Plenty of bad plays, plenty of mistakes, but never one big catastrophic bluff 2 spots from the money. Now, I had basically popped my cherry.
I knew what it felt like, the gut wrenching, room spinning sickness that swept over me as I walked out into the Vegas twilight with my brother. It was good for me to go through it, because now I know what it's like. I know I'm a better poker player because of it.
And, this happened at just the right time for me. My blowup wasn't the worst line in the world, but it was wrong all the way down. I could analyze it, and see it plainly. Had I done this 4 years ago I could very easily rationalize it away - that fucking donkey, how can he call me with top pair, shit kicker? He sucks. Now I'm almost (and as of this writing, actually am) 40. I know better.
I awoke fresh and optimistic on Sunday. Lesson learned, today would be good. And, it was.
Back to the Venetian - this time the nooner was a bit smaller than the Friday tournament. They only paid the final table. Still, the top prize was 4K. Not too shabby.
The good Doctor busted out early and said he was going back to the Orleans to do some work work on his laptop. I found out later that he bee lined it to the Aria, where he also busted out in short order. Ah well, he was still ahead for the trip.
Myself, I played some of my best poker all trip. Reaping the benefits of being two seats to the right of a "serious" female home player who was one of the worst I had seen all week. Her wacky aggression in c-betting and open shoving on the river with top pair had me salivating. So far she had run well, and fancied herself a table captain as the chips piled up. I could see right through it.
I fooled a round a bit and stole her blinds a few times - once with 98 off suit. I showed. She was rankled.
Then I got aces. I raised as I always had - she three bet from the small blind. I shoved. She called with A10.
Cha-ching.
It was a great example of exploiting my own image, and reading someone for exactly what they were. Someone who routinely gets paid off and gets away with murder twice a week in her garage - running into an actual poker player.
Down the table from me, was the real deal. A regular. Early on I three bet him off his top pair with air. I was relieved that it worked, but I knew it would be the last time. I resolved to stay away from him.
A few hours passed, my stack dwindled as all the good little fishies fell by the wayside.
I flatted with pocket 7's on the button when the regular opened from middle position. He c-bet the dry ace high board. I called.
He had a monster stack at this point. I was just shy of being committed with my stack. The turn was a seven. A safe card for him as far as he was concerned.
He led out. I called again. Now he was worried.
I took him to value town on the river - he took forever to pay me off on my fairly thin value bet, but he did, with top two pair that he had flopped.
He rapped the table in acknowledgement when I showed the goods.
Hours later, after our table had broken, I was again approaching the money. The regular was at the other table and had a short stack.
As I strolled by he laughed at me and pointed to his stack "I got tangled up with another guy I should have avoided. Just like I should have avoided you." It felt really great, to get such respect from a daily degenerate (though he was a nice one as these guys go). I told him that I had promised myself to avoid him as well. We nodded in silence.
Long story short. I didn't implode this time.
For the third time this trip, just a handful of players from the money, but now I was truly short stacked with less than 12 bigs. I shoved from middle position with KJ. Now let me be clear, there were three big stacks at my table and one HUGE stack. I was looking to get tangled up in a multi-way and get lucky. Alas, I had only one caller, a big but not huge stack, who took FOREVER, to finally called me with AK. Idiot. This truly was a slow roll in my mind. He was a recreational player who wouldn't be that damaged by my stack, it was an insta-call at least, and an insta-shove for any real poker player because there were big stacks behind. I did manage to keep silent when he showed, though the regular to my left rolled his eyes in sympathy with me, shaking his head and chiming in with a thick accent "What are you going to do, fold with AK? Aye yah!" I chuckled as I bricked off - and once again walked away empty handed.
If a tree bubbles in the forest - does it make a sound? Does that even make sense?
What I'm trying to ascertain is - if I'd had a single big cash early on, enough to cover my buy-ins, and then thereafter simply gotten unlucky early on in all the remaining events, busting early, biding my time all afternoon window shopping in Vegas instead of playing nearly 27 hours of live poker -would that hypothetical trip have been more "successful"? Methinks not.
This was a hugely successful venture for me and my game - results not withstanding. Like I said, if I'd pocketed 1 or 2K in that first big tournament - my kings had avoided or cracked aces - I'd be over the moon; surely my confidence would have been boosted. But would I have even approached the level of learning and sheer number of hours at the tables if I'd gone that route? Who knows. But what I do know, is my agony and my frustration paled in the face of the real. The hard. The greatness that is poker and that I got to indulge in on this weekend.
Speaking of hard and good, my brother and I wrapped things up with H.O.R.S.E. at the Orleans on Sunday night.
It was a blast, I played well, my jacks ran into kings in Hold-em about 4 hours in with the betting levels at astronomical levels.
As I mentioned prior to this post, I consider myself dead money in such an event - and this took a lot of pressure off. I had a blast.
I was on life support for a long time, about 3 big bets remained, and managed to get into a multi-way pot and win it, so I was back up to 10 big bets. Then the aforementioned jacks - kings collision occurred and I made the long walk back up to my dark room. Falling asleep to visions of paper suits and numbers, passing in front of my closed eyes.
Good trip. No. Great trip. Thanks to my brother, my pain and the journey. I wouldn't trade the experience for anything, and I can't wait to go again.
