Bet he didn't think I'd take him up on it!
For Mike (the birthday boy) it wasn't really about cards, but he did join me for one tournament. (More on that in a minute).
For me, it turned out to be mostly about teh pokerz, but I also made a really good faith effort to share in the celebration and be around for the major birthday events.
The first such good time after my arrival was on Friday night; the entire group, including all but 2 of Mike's 6 siblings (wow) and his folks and his lady companion (who is as groovy as he is) joined a smattering of friends (including me) for sausage and schnitzel at the massive Hofbrauhaus restaurant across from the Hard Rock.
The food was decent (you really can't go wrong with comfort cuisine) but the music and atmosphere was off the chain and a spanking good time was had by all. No, literally, it was spanking good - as the waitresses brought around giant wooden paddles and shots. The birthday boy knocked one back and then assumed the position to have his ass smacked hella hard. Those wacky Germans.
Afterwards I played blackjack for the FIRST TIME IN MY LIFE. I was a bit scared, but thanks to Mike's expert advice, which apparently you can give freely without penalty in black jack (a good indication that the house can't be beat), I cashed out with $50 in profit. Nice.
The following night it was Nikki Lee's Sports Bar where all of us, including another sister who just arrived (the 5th of Mike's 6 sibs) had an absolute blast (at least for the first quarter and a bit beyond) cheering on the Nebraska Cornhuskers as they faced off against the hated Wisconsin Badgers.
Now I know as much about College Football as a fish knows about a bicycle, but I quickly learned the Nebraska chants and got into the spirit very easily. It got a little tougher later on when Wisconsin decided to beat up on the big red (the nickname for Nebraska) like a proverbial red-headed step-child. Even the die hard fans didn't stick around for the entire slaughter, but it was still a heck of a lot of fun.
Sunday evening Mike and his brood were planning to see the "Love" Cirque show, I explained to him that my wife would have me tracked down and killed were I to see it without her; but we still had the morning and early afternoon for poker. I was very pleased to buy-in for the birthday boy (I figured he had a good chance of turning it into more anyway) and we both settled in to the same table (he in the 3, me in the 8, just about right) for a $50 splash-a-ment at Treasure Island.
This thing played out as many of these events do. I'm proud to say that Mike and I both were basically the only open raisers in the first phases of the 3 table tournament, and clearly also the best players. Not bragging really, no judgement - that's just how it was.
I did manage to tangle with him on a couple of hands. Nothing serious - but early on I did bluff him off a blind defense with a c-bet even though I blanked on a favorable board. Later when I tried to steal again he 3 bet me off my marginal starting cards on my follow up bet on the flop.
The most memorable hand between us is rapidly fading from my memory, it was in the middle of the tournament, we were still at our first table. I do believe he was drawing to a big hand and I fired a second barrel to get him off of it. I don't think I connected with the flop at all, but I honestly can't remember too much beyond that.
The good news was, we both made it to the final four. Less good for him was that he was on a teeny stack and they only paid 3. Luckily he was able to double up and I pounced on the opportunity to suggest that we all agree to take some $ off of 1st and 2nd to get the bubble (whoever it may be) his buy in back.
The other guys agreed, so when Mike unfortunately did get knocked out, he at least got a 50 spot for his efforts.
But backing up, before we were 4 we were 6. A home game hero to my right was the big stack but I wasn't too far behind. To my left was a familiar villain (not personal, just a poker geek term) - a passive station who had no concept of chip stack sizes or commitment thresholds.
To preface this silliness - we all had less than 20 bigs, the station had about 8.
I had been raising a fair amount and looked down at AK on the button after it was folded to me. After a 2.5x raise station defended his small blind, Mike in the big let his cards go.
Flop came Ax10 - and station check shoved my C-bet. Committed to the hand with about 40% of my stack, I knew I was dead, but had to call. He had A10.
Unremarkable hand really, but it was a noteworthy companion to a very similar hand a bit later after Station had been eliminated.
Home Game Hero still had a monster stacken - I had managed to accumulate back up, after a few well timed shoves and then a few chunky raises to get laydowns pre-flop. But I was still under 15 big blinds, ready to pull the trigger if the timing was right.
5 handed, HGH flat called UTG. He had been doing this all day with QJ, 77, K10, etc. I looked down at A10 and I shipped it, he called with AK.
I have no problem with how I played the hand really. Blinds were ridonkulous and there was no reason to play for 3rd or 2nd as the big jump was for 1st only. I'm either folding or shoving in that spot, and it's just not in my nature to let go of a big ace if I've been card dead for awhile, and I'm facing a passive player with an undeserved mountain in front of him.
The sick part of this hand was the results - and HGH's reaction.
I felt really good that I had managed to stay relatively placid in the face of a 3 outer deflating my own AK on the flop; Mike had to be amazed. I am much more demonstrative in the garage, no doubt because I am among friends and am not going to war the way I do in a card club. There it's all about having fun, and part of the fun is venting a bit.
No, I was completely zen about it, and proud that the Station who sucked out on me was far more emotive than me, even in trying to be a gracious winner.
So when a ten came on the turn after a blank flop on this AK vs. A10 round two, HGH pretty much lost his shit (not mad at me but exasperated) and once again - I was as flat as a mill pond.
Tommy Angelo would have been proud.
To finish up on the results - Mike did indeed "bubble" but got $50 of birthday money so he could get a Beatles T-shirt. I myself did finish third, I just couldn't accumulate enough to overcome my dearth of cards at end game. I don't think I misplayed my exit hand, I probably would remember if I did. But I do know I was silky chill with handshakes all around when the chip leader (who in the end was NOT the home game hero, he was eliminated shortly after his AK got sucked out on) knocked both of us remaining players out on the final hand.
As long as we're still talking about my tilt, which by the way to me was the highlight of my trip (birthday festivities excepted of course), let me tell you about the only real tournament of the three days.
The Wynn $125 nooner. Tough four table tournament, with 30 minute levels and deep blinds. I lasted over 3 hours.
Allen R. stopped in for a quick howdy, another PSP regular who coincidentally was in town for some debauchery with his youngster buddies.
He barely missed my exit, he was off playing 1/3.
My image was slightly loose / aggressive. Earlier I had been seated right next to an older fellow who was a bit of a character, but in a good way. He was a very good conversationalist and I enjoyed chatting it up with him, about movies and the business and in turn, my work.
He watched a hand go down with me and the table "pro" in the 1 seat early on.
This "pro" was the whole nine yards - hoody, sunglasses, i-pod, stone-cold killer (lol).
He had been pretty aggro early on, he seemed to have only one gear and that was pedal to the medal "I don't give a fuck, this is a re-entry event" aggressiveness.
But I have now played with these guys before quite a bit, and I know their game - it's all about image, and crafting it so that you think "Wow, this asshole is crazy. I'm never folding top pair to him!" And then they wake up with aces or kings and you pay them off with AJ all in pre-flop.
I am very grateful that I play tournament poker in Southern California, I really do feel comfortable against any kind of opponent, and I wasn't too worried about this guy. Not that I wasn't avoiding him, I pretty much was.
Anyway, blinds are low, we're all fairly deep at 80 blinds or so.
He raises in EP (again) and two people behind me call. I do as well on the button with Ac 5c sooooted. (I know, I know, but pot odds right?)
Flop comes middling cards with 2 clubs. He fires about a third of the rather bloated pot. The two stations release and I'm faced with better than 4 to 1. Insta-float.
The turn bricks with a face card unrelated to the texture so far. This time he stops his rhythm and tanks on the bet size.
He either hit his queen or blanked, because all the time he is taking, he is crafting how to best achieve his goal. He fires over half the pot, a HUGE c-bet for him (based on his bet sizing on previous hands) and a bet that just screams GO AWAY.
I really tanked a bit myself on this (something that I'm finally starting to do more, rather than just snap-decide) and did decipher what his bet size meant. It was the wrong price, no doubt, but I still had plenty of chips behind, and if I hit I stood to stack him because he was likely to fire a third barrel regardless - if he had indeed hit. If he had hit his queen, I'm guessing he would have done what he did earlier when his AK hit the turn, he bet for value on a fairly wet board against an ABC player (which is no doubt how he perceived me).
Annie Duke, my mentor these days with her incredible new book "Decide to Play Great Poker" would have had me either fold or 3 bet here (that is, shove) rather than call. His second barrel is so large here, that if I'm planning to bet the river I might as well put the chips to use now. He is likely to fold TPGK or even TPTK based on my image at the table thus far.
But I fucked up and called, planning to fold a giant third barrel if I blanked.
The river was a red Ace.
Hmmmmm..... was it good?
He bet. Another big bet, but not as big as it should have been mathematically. Probably under 1/3 of the pot.
Was it for value?
Not necessarily. On the river earlier with the goods, he had just stuck it in, and got looked up by an inferior bottom two pair to his set. Hugely profitable line if he's convinced he has the best hand against a station.
This time, he bet just enough to leave his remaining stack viable.
This is what convinced me to call. He shook his head and looked pissed. I fast rolled my A5, as is my custom, and this steamed him even more.
Big ass pot, ship it.
Old Friendly went on and on about "How could you make that call? You turned it over like you knew it was the best hand!" Actually, that's just a by-product of my fast-rolling technique. I can't stand reluctant show downs, it's infected my home game pretty badly, it just rubs me the wrong way. I never show if I don't have to, but if there is any delay on the dude I'm calling, I flip em quick as a courtesy to other players, on whose time we are wasting by sitting there staring at each other.
Anyway, it was the best decision I made all trip by far, based on a bunch of factors, and it was a shining moment for me. The turn, not so much, it's a ship it or fold situation (leaning towards fold) but I'm glad I didn't lose my nerve, heart or brains when the "pro" stuck in the maximum he could without seriously hurting his remaining bullets.
Flash forward 2 hours.
Old friendly had long since busted (in a nice manner btw) and I assumed he had departed. But when our table broke, there he was at my new home two seats to my left, and he gave me a friendly nod. He had re-entered.
Since his departure I had played the role of classic TAG, c-betting my raises after the flop nearly 100% of the time, only shutting down with multiple opponents in front, and as a result my chips were around average.
Time wore on and then I dipped into what I consider the danger zone (under 15 bigs) as the antes started to take their toll.
Over the next 3 orbits I shoved in position once, twice, three, times. Win, win, win, no showdowns. And with all those dead chippies adding no small amount to my stack. I was now at 16K with blinds at 400/800 and 100 antes. 20 bigs was well above average at this point as we had only been given 7500 to start.
I finally had just enough for a standard 2.5x raise. I did it twice, the second time I had to c-bet a single opponent with nothing (scary) but I knew he was a super nit and thankfully he released.
Still at around 16K a little later (the antes really were relentless) I looked down at KQos in the hijack. Standard raise.
Old Friendly on the button called. Blinds released.
Flop came Q79 rainbow. I c-bet and he wasn't going anywhere, calling quickly.
Turn was a beautiful K completing the rainbow. I checked, as is the line Ms. Duke approves of.
Old Friendly rapidly bet out a random hunk of chips that was nearly but not quite all I had behind.
I immediately said "All-In" figuring there was a fairly decent chance I had run into a set, but not really caring based on the math.
Old Friendly was flummoxed and asked for a count. When he realized it was just under 3K more (into a bloated 30k pot) he sheepishly called, practically before I had already turned up my top top.
"I need a miracle card on the river..." he muttered as he revealed his pocket sixes.
We all know the end to this story.
********
"Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright. The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light, And somewhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout. But there is no joy in Mudville — mighty Casey has FAILED TO FADE A FUCKING TWO OUTER!!!!"
I can make light here, because I was expressionless when the card from hell hit. I was a little more demonstrative after I had graciously said goodbye, when Allen R. came over and consoled me.
"I don't play this game often enough for it not to sting..." I confessed. To him. And it did hurt, only because a double up in that spot would have put me right back in it with 40 bigs.
Anyway, I am proud of my demeanor in falling to the short end of a 96% equation.
I'm less proud of my tilt that manifested at the 9am Monte Carlo on the same day, where I had basically run over 2 tables worth of home game dopes for a good 90 minutes, only to get coolered twice and bubble.
I was nice enough on the outside, but inward I was rattled (especially by the way players insisted on still limping after I had quite effectively punished them for it over and over again) and I know this tilt was responsible for my last bit of spew that I probably could have prevented with a moment of reflection.
I said cursory goodbyes, and even gave a "See ya! Good luck!" (of the sarcastic eye-rolling variety) over my shoulder on my way out.
Not my finest moment.
But I was good for the remainder, until that grotesque poker exercise known as H.O.R.S.E. on my final night at the Orleans.
I said it pretty well at the table shortly before my demise...
"Razz is not a very difficult game, but it sure is sadistic."
Needless to say, in the midst of my tilt after a particularly massive draw at O8 that failed to materialize, and therefore did great damage to my already middling stack, I was faced with having to fast play my Razz starting cards.
We all know what fun that is.
With the king and ten showing big stack reraised me all in, it was inevitable that I would pair and brick off, my J6 losing to her 109 in typical razz fashion.
I was pretty nice on my exit, but by the time I reached my car (I went out to fill the tank with gas) I was fuming.
I think I'm done staying at the Orleans for awhile. It is a truly great room, and by great I literally mean one of the best poker rooms in the world, no exaggeration. The only place on the planet that regularly spreads 7+ table HORSE and Omaha/8 tournaments. The best value for structure NLHE daily I've ever played in; and a potentially huge cash game jackpot (six figure plus) that has seen me playing 2/4 for hours simply to possibly hit a big payday.
But the room is SoCal tough - nitty and savvy regulars. In over half a decade of making the Orleans my home base, I have never cashed in a tournament there.
Much as it pains me, it is time to move on and stick with NLHE in softer pastures.
I think my new room of choice is going to be Harrah's.
Harrah's room is quiet, closed off, and unlike Orleans which is one of the worst offenders in Vegas, entirely smoke free. Best of all the clientele is very soft, and they run 5 tournaments every day! True, they are turbos, but how can I beat 8am, 10am, 3pm, 8pm and 1am? The PERFECT times for filling up in between the more typical Vegas tourney times of noon and 7pm.
My hotel room is booked for early February. I am NOT going to rent a car for once, all the poker goodness at Harrah's is super close.
I plan to get in four full days, I will definitely hit at least 3 majors - for sure the Wynn, probably the V and/or A, and maybe, just maybe my first ever event at the B.
Very much looking forward to it!
