High On Poker

When I got an email from Confessions of a Poker Dealer author Mark Friedberg, I was a little skeptical. I enjoy a decent poker book, but the market is so flooded with books, its hard to tell which ones are worth reading.

About two pages in, I knew that I would be done with Confessions within a week, even with the meager time I have the read. The book practically reads like a blog, with its conversational tone and adept storytelling. The basic structure is simply chronological, starting with an anecdote about Archie the Greek, a gambler who went on an unbelievable run in Vegas, before shifting to Mark’s experiences as a player/dealer in Vegas, and then his experiences in Atlantic City.

Mark’s perspective as a longtime dealer and player also makes for an interesting read. He offers a decent amount of history on the development of poker, from its Vegas stud heydey, to the No Limit Hold’em era we now live in. Along the way, he highlights certain events that he considers major events in the history of legalized poker in the US. Most were completely new and novel to me. The only one that I was somewhat surprised about is his emphasis on Robert Varkonyi’s WSOP win. While we all probably see Moneymaker as the man who made the poker boom, Mark’s experiences as a dealer/player has led him to believe that Varkonyi’s improbable win, a good year before Moneymaker, was actually the catalyst for the current form of any-two-cards no limit hold’em.

If there is any shortcoming about the book, it has to be the length. At about 40-50 pages long, it’s a quick read that left me wanting more. Still, as far as shortcomings go, this is a minor one.

On a scale from high card to royal flush, Confessions of a Poker Dealer ranks at bottom set from the High on Poker obscure ratings system. It’s a solid hand definitely worth playing, but it lacks the length to be the mortal nuts.

Until next time, make mine poker!

To really get the flavor of the weekend, I have to backtrack a bit. The afternoon session from the last post was broken up a couple of times by family and friends stopping by or calling. While wifey Kim was out shopping with Mama Roose, Mama High and Roose’s wife, I continued to play poker. At some point, Papa High stopped by to see how I was doing. When he left, he mentioned lunch with the girls. I told him to keep me informed.

A little while later, Roose stopped by to see if I was interested in grabbing lunch with the girls. Apparently, Papa High and Papa Roose had already left to meet the girls by AC’s outdoor outlet. Robbie Hole’s mom was coming in for X-mas, and after she arrived, Hole and Mama Hole (man, that just doesn’t sound right), headed over to meet the girls as well. It was just Roose and me left, so I asked for him to let me finish my orbit. I was in the cutoff at the time. Roose had just busted, so he refused to wait. I checked my watch, almost 2pm, and decided to let him go. We had our annual X-mas eve dinner plans at local Italian restaurant Rafici’s and we usually ended up overeating during dinner anyway. I wanted to save my appetite.

After he left, the short-haired Asian chick to my left ordered a chicken noodle soup from the poker room. It looked good and after I changed to the LO8 table, I ordered some soup as well. I figured it would satiate me between my inadequate egg sandwich breakfast and the feast to come. As it turned out, the soup was fantastic. I highly recommend it to anyone playing poker at the Trop.

This is all to say that when I finished my poker session, there was no one else around. I decided to head upstairs, where I watched some TV in my suite’s living room, and then read some more of the Hunter S. Thompson biography that I’ve been slowly reading. Eventually, everyone returned back, and Roose, Hole and I took advantage of my balconey. Wifey Kim came back as we all hung out, and I eventually not so subtlely told my boys to beat feet. Wifey Kim and I hung out and eventually got ready for dinner.

By the time we headed to Rafici’s, I was back to hungry. As per usual, my mom duped me into thinking we had to be there early. Wifey Kim and I (along with our passengers, Roose and Roose Wife), were the first to arrive by a good 15 minutes. While the chicks chatted, Roose and I watched the 1991 Holyfield/Forman fight. We both tried to convince the other to take Holyfield. No luck there.

Dinner was amazing, as always. As expected, we started off with calamari and baked clams. I then had the New England clam chowder, followed by Chicken Parmesan, which I shared with wifey Kim’s Penne ala Vodka. By dessert, we were all stuffed to the gills.

Back at the Trop, wifey Kim and I went searching for ice cream. All of the places were closed due to the holidays, so instead, we played some slots. We eventually got bored and retired to the room. After hanging out for a bit, wifey Kim dozed off. Earlier in the night, we discussed whether I would be playing that night. I didn’t really care either way. But once those eyelids shut, the crave was once again on.

I snuck out after changing into my poker gear, and texted Hole and Roose on the way. Down at the poker room, I found a quick 1/2 NL game. I sat down to a table where the player on my immediate left was stacking a big pile of chips. Across the table, the 1 seat was staring at him with crazy eyes. The 1 seat was a dark haired guy of average height, on the slimmer side. He had jet black hair and bushy eyebrows. His eyes were wide open, as though he wanted you to see as much of the white as possible. He looked batshit crazy.

I was immediately dealt AQo in the BB, and after about 5 limpers and the SB’s call, I raised to $15. The only caller was crazy-eyes. My flop was AQX. I checked, expecting crazy-eyes to do something crazy. He did, betting $20. I raised to $50 and he called. The turn was a blank and I bet out $75. He folded. I was up $60 in my first hand. Things were looking good.

From there, the table just got weird. Crazy-eyes was completely crazy, telling stories about how one guy accidentally mucked his cards at a casino, so he hit him with a brick in the back of the head in the parking lot after waiting 20 minutes for the guy. He announced to the table, “Really, man, there is no bigger dick move than mucking someone else’s hand.” I added, “Actually, there is one bigger dick move…hitting someone in the back of the head with a brick.” Everyone laughed, including crazy-eyes.

Sadly, I was carddead, and was up a mere $52 when I felt that it was time to walk. I had been playing enough poker and I didn’t feel the usual urge to continue. I was happy to lock in my profit and see what Roose and Hole were up to. After racking up and cashing out, I found Roose and Hole making their way into the poker room. I asked them what they had in mind. They both wanted to play some 1/2 NL, so I wished them good luck. As I walked outside the room, I heard them call a new table, with Rob and Dave’s names included. I doubled-back and went to the desk. “Is there any more room on that new table?” “Sure, sir. Second to last table in the back.”

Roose and Hole thought I was gone already and didn’t even notice me right away as I took the 10s. Roose was in the 4s and Rob was in the 7s. I bought in for $100, something I never do. I had one goal in mind: tilt the table and then leave, so that Roose and Hole could feast on the flesh of their tenderized competition. I didn’t care two shits about my short buy-in.

In the very first hand, I was dealt K5. I opted for a modest preflop raise. The flop came down KT5. I made a large bet and took down the pot. On the very next hand, I had KTo. The player who called my last hand raised, and I called. The flop was QTx, and after he checked to me, I bet out. He called. The turn was a blank and we both checked. The river was a King, giving me two pair again. This time, my opponent led the action with a $50 bet. I raised all-in for $24 more. “Ah, you got me.” He folded. WTF?!

At this point, I was already being loud. I held out my two cards and offered, “Left or Right, I’ll only show you one.” He refused to pick so I mucked the cards. “Fine, don’t play along.”

A little while later, I won a pot with KQ after flopping top pair and reaching the turn. There were two spades on the board. After winning, I offered the Left/Right deal again. He pulled the King, which was a spade. “Damn, you were on the flush draw!”

I basically used every trick in my book to drum up some action. I made blind preflop bets (we’ll get to that in a minute). I announced “It’s PRIME time baby!” and then insisted on only betting prime numbers (11, 13, 17, 23, etc.). I set up the button and offered the dealer $2 if he could deal a card entirely underneath the button (no part of the button could be outside of the card…he hit, by the way). I made min raises to $4 preflop and then followed it up with a $2 bet on the flop (we’ll get to that too). I offered to show cards for $1 after winning a hand. Again, my goal was to loosen up the game. It was all in fun, and for the most part, the table seemed to be playing along. They loosened up some too. Of course, by the end of the session there was some backlash. I offered an older guy the old Left/Right routine, to which he replied, “I’m not playing any of your games.” I made a half-hearted explanation as to why it would only benefit him, but mucked at the same time. You don’t want to play my games? Well that’s on you, buddy.

With all of this going on, in one hand, I raised to $4 blind UTG. There is no straddling in AC, and whenever I ask they tell me I can blind raise as though that is some sort of consolation prize. Normally, I’d never pull this move, but I was looking to have fun. I received one or two callers and then Roose raised $10 on top. Everyone folded ot me, and I opted to call blind. I didn’t mind losing money to Roose, after all. The flop was 9-high and I checked. Roose bet out $25 or $30. I admitted that I had to check my cards: J9! With top pair, I flat called. We both checked it down and I took down the pot. Whoops!

A little while later, I min-raised to $4 with some random cards. I like these potsweeteners. I got a bunch of callers and played the usual, “No respect!” shtick. I hit middle pair (7s) on the flop and bet $2. Amazingly, I got one or two folders. There were still three other players left. The turn didn’t help me, but I bet out $7 or 8 anyway. I think I got two callers. The river was also no help, and I bet out $20, announcing, “I can’t softplay you the whole time.” Everyone folded. This, by the way, reminds me of my belief that odd betting patterns can really mess up your opponents’ game in live poker.

By the time I had enough, I was up $150. I decided to pack it in and head upstairs. I unwound in my room as I got random calls and text messages from Rob. Finally, at the end of his session, he called me up. He had won over $300 from the now loose table. Roose was felted when someone hit quads to beat his fullhouse and then a fullhouse to beat his flush. I tried my best buddy!

The next morning, wifey Kim, Roose, Roose Wife and I went to breakfast at the Seaside Cafe. The food was adequate, but the portions were surprisingly small for an AC diner-like restaurant. From there, we headed home.

Overall, it was a very successful trip. I got a room upgrade for cheap, won over $300 at poker, lost a minimal amount at slots and table games, and made enough money to pay for the dirt-cheap trip. I also found a new type of discipline to my game, namely the ability to get up and walk when table conditions or my personal mood did not feel right. I hope to build on that in the future.

Until next time, make mine poker!

I’ve got so many posts to write, I don’t even know where to start. But I’m especially excited for this year’s Xmas in AC post, that I can’t wait any longer.

Wifey Kim and I spent the weekend in her friend’s upstate ski home, getting reacquainted with some of wifey Kim’s friends from college. From there, we headed downstate into New Jersey, with our final destination as Atlantic City, our X-mas spot for the last 7 or 8 years. The tradition started at my insistence when the usual Jewish X-mas tradition, Chinese food and a movie, seemed stale. The first year, it was just me, wifey Kim, and two of my high school buddies. The next year it was just me and wifey Kim. But after that, my parents began to join with Roose’s parents, and Roose came along as well. Every year, it seems like we have a new cast of characters joining us, and it couldn’t be more of a pleasure.

The trip started off smoothly. I drove through the twisty mountain roads through a misty, constant rain until we were on the highway and moving swiftly. Wifey Kim took over the driving about 1 1/2 hours from AC to give me a break. I slept for about 30 minutes and when I came to, we were mere exits away from the AC Expressway.

Our arrival at the Tropicana Hotel was delayed by a pitstop at a local Rite Aid drug store. Wifey Kim had caught my killer cold, so we needed to restock on tissues and I needed some toiletries. Finding the drug store was amazingly easy thanks to the GPS unit in the car. I have been a fan of the GPS map technology from the start, and if I owned a car I’d definitely have one. There is something wonderful about not worrying about directions. The ole GPS takes care of all that.

After the pitstop, we headed to the Trop. We chose the Trop using the High on Poker AC Hotel system; it was the cheapest hotel/casino on the Boardwalk. It also happens to kick ass. It was the location of a series of Thanksgiving dinners with the High family when I was around 11 years old. Back then, they used to have a mini-amusement park indoors. Now, its wall-to-wall slot machines, aside from the new Havana-themed Quarter. The Quarter is a long, two-story hallway-like mall with a variety of high to middle-end stores and a bunch of restaurants.

As we approached the front desk, I prepared myself for a technique I had only read about. I took a single $20 bill and placed it, neatly folded, underneath my license and credit card. As I got to the counter person, I handed the items across the desk. “Any chance I can get upgraded to a junior suite?”

I had often tried to earn free upgrades. In the past, Roose and I have been generally very successful. But the pre-tip (really a bribe) was something I never did before due to the simple reason that I was scared that the person would say, “No” and still have my $20. Dr. Felter, a reader, sent me his personal trip report from his recent Las Vegas trip, and he pulled off the $20 upgrade. That, combined with the holiday season led me to give it a go. I figured if it did not work, I would simply say “Merry Christmas” and think of the tip as a generous gift.

I didn’t have to say Merry Christmas though. The woman typed some things in the computer and turned to me: “We have a suite with an ocean view and one with a jacuzzi tub. Which do you want?” The answer was obvious, jacuzzi. I don’t see what the big deal is with a view. The window is usually the last place I am looking. She moved my credit card and license and saw the $20. “Just so you know, this is a $150 upgrade.” By then, I already had my keys, so I responded in kind: “Well thank you very much, then.” I don’t know if she wanted more than $20, but the first rule in hustling is to shake down the person BEFORE you give them the goods.

Wifey Kim did not even know about the $20, so she was amazed at how easily we got the upgrade. I filled her in on the walk to our room. Once upstairs, we took some time to wind down. Eventually, we hit the casino floor, where Dave Roose was finishing up a Pai Gow session with Robbie Hole. Eric & Heather, friends I met through Roose and Hole, were also in town for the night. After the Pai Gow, wifey Kim and I found a Roulette table, where I sat back and watched wifey Kim do her thing. Okay, so I pestered her with numbers, but it was fun for both of us. We were down about $40 when we decided to put enough chips on to let us leave -$60 even if we lost. We didn’t. Wifey Kim hit, so we pulled more money off of the table, and bet whatever was left over after breaking down $20 increments. She hit again. She proceeded to hit one or two more times until we were up $40. Roulette is fun, but once down and then back to even, I always feel satisfied. Since we were up $40, wifey Kim and I decided to walk.

We found everyone by the poker room at a Roulette table. It seemed like that session was ending, so we looked for more gambling. Heather wanted to play some Wheel of Fortune slots, as did wifey Kim, so we made our way to a nearby wall of $1 machines. I tried to set a prop bet with Heather to see who would hit a Spin first, but her machine took 5 bets and mine took 3, so we couldn’t work it out. On her first spin, though, she hit some sort of combination for $155 profit. She cashed out immediately for $175. We walked around some more. I don’t remember what we did, but a short while later, news came around that Heather hit another WoF machine for about $120 profit.

Wifey Kim and I hadn’t eaten, so we decided to grab some food around 8:30pm. We checked out PF Changs, but the wait was over an hour. Right next door was Cuba Libre, so we popped in and found that we could be seated immediately. We ordered arepas to start, which were quite bland. Wifey Kim ordered ropa vieja for her meal, essentially slow cooked brisket mixed with stewed vegetables, and I went with guava bbq ribs. Both meals were delicious, although they came within 10 minutes of the arepas. We shared a half-pitcher of sangria, but I did most of the drinking.

After dinner we hung around with the crew a bit longer. We eventually headed upstairs, where wifey Kim fell asleep. I snuck downstairs for some more poker and found Roose. We sat at a 1/2 table that looked prime for the taking. There was one loud Asian guy in the 8 seat that knew what he was doing and a nerdy lawyer in the 10s who had amassed a lot of chips.

My first seat sucked, so I switched positions to be to the left of a couple of big stacks. That also put me next to the only female at the table. As I sat down, she joked about how she didn’t want to sit next to me. She kinda looked familiar and over the next 20 hands, we joked around until I asked if I had played with her before. She thought so too, based on my baseball cap. The reality is that it was a cap I hadn’t worn in years. Its essentially a trucker hat with a hunting camo design on it (not army camo). I bought it as part of a hillbilly costume for college, and it sat in my drawer ever since. I figured it was comfortable and added to my whackjob image, so I dusted it off for the poker. Still, she looked familiar, so I just played it off. Her name was Odette, and she was in much the same spot as I. There was a lot of action, but we were both card dead. While we commiserated, I shared some insight into tells.

One player in particular looked like he could not control his tells. I saw him shuffle his cards on a couple of occasions before a fold, and reasoned that he shuffled his cards when he had bad hands. It’s a common tell, since most people subconsciously think shuffling their cards will somehow change them. As I said this, the gentleman called his adversary and flipped over top set on the three-flush board to take down the pot. I was immediately eating crow. That is the tricky thing about tells. They are never 100% reliable. He probably didn’t like his top set after the flush came, which would explain the shuffling, even though he was very strong. OR, he liked his hand just fine and his shuffling had nothing to do with anything. Whatever the case, I was wrong. I’m just glad I wasn’t in that pot.

While folding away, random members of our group stopped by to check on me or fill me in on some news. Earlier, at the Roulette table, after Heather’s two slot wins, Robbie Hole handed Heather $20 with instructions to pick a slot machine at random. If she won $30 or more, she was instructed to stop. Any profits would go 1/2 to Rob and 1/2 to Heather.

At the time, I thought Rob was making a big mistake. Logic dictates that it was not Heather who had a magical power over the slots, so Rob may’ve well played the $20 himself and kept 100% of the profits. But I was fairly sure the deal was more for fun than anything, so I kept my mouth shut.

So, it was quite a surprise when Rob stopped by with news that he was unstuck for the trip, thanks to Heather hitting a nickel machine for over $500. Amazing! He took his half and she went back to more slots, hitting another $400 on a nickel machine before quitting.

Back at the poker table, I continued to be card dead. It reminded me of times in the past when I would see a neverending string of shitty cards. I promised myself that I would stay the course, though, since this was a table where I was not going to bet anyone off of a hand.

The table had a lot of cross-talk, mostly originating from the cocky Asian in the 8s. I had flashbacks of Vegas, where I lost $400 at a table that just didn’t feel right. I decided that I should cut and run rather than wait for this “juicy” table to pay me off. The cards weren’t going my way, so it was time to go. I stood up at 2am and headed upstairs. I spent some time unwinding before I finally hit the sack. I was down $130 from poker, but I was happy I stopped playing when I did. Tomorrow was a new day and wifey Kim had plans to go shopping with my mom, so I knew I had a good chunk of time in the afternoon for some poker.

Until next time, make mine poker!

Obviously, I’m not blowing the right people at Full Tilt, because I rightfully should have won the Write Your Way Into the BBTwo Tournament of Champions Contest. But Fuel55 and JuliusGoat have been sucking the schlong overtime, because they’ve both won seats with their craptastic writing. So, congratulations, guys. Now wipe off your chin.

God. If I need to say it, here it is: I kid! A big ups to my boys Julius Goat and Fuel. Both are more than deserving. And apparently my fellatio was not all for nothing because an email from the fine folks at FullTilt implied that I may be getting some FT points for my trouble (along with every other entrant, or so it seems). Just another testament to the power of blogs.

Since my recent tiny influx of cash into online poker (although more is on its way), I’ve decided to give some away through prop bets, since I can’t seem to lose fast enough at poker. So, I’m posting a challenge for anyone interested. It’s a simple last longer bet. Pick one player for the TOC, and ONLY one player. My pick is Fuel55. He’s hungry, having never really won any money at poker, so I figure I’ll give the underdog a shot. After all, he can’t stay at the tiny $10/20 NL tables for ever.

I’ll take three such bets, and ONLY three such bets, ranging from $5-10. Your choice. If your or my pick actually wins the event, the loser pays double. Sorry about the limit, but I’m not made of money, even if my penis is gold-plated. So shiny, too.

In closing, bring it bitches and bitchettes.

Until next time, make mine poker!

Amongst the side effects of having a blog comes a very basic understanding of html code. I’ve heard people say that they would blog but they don’t know how to. At its most basic level, the technology is exceedingly easy. You fill out some prompts and you are ready to go.

But at some point, I became bored with my template and I decided to redo the scene. TripJax was a huge help, and I couldn’t thank him enough.

Still, over a year later and there was still one thing that always bothered me about my site. The text size. I had made other tweaks to my blog before, changing the HoP banner or altering the side bar, but the text size always seemed to elude me.

Fortunately for you, I took some bad beats in poker last night. After losing two token SNGs, I decided to give up for the night. Poker can be a brutal game on the psyche and since my return from Vegas, I just cannot escape suckout city. So, I decided to turn my attentions elsewhere.

My two grandfathers are both very handy guys. My maternal grandfather used to work for the MTA (Metropolitan Transit Authority), first as a mechanical or electrical engineer and finally in some management type role. Around the house, he was very handy. Even to this day, I can tell when he’s visited my parents’ home. Suddenly, a creaky door no longer creaks, or a broken light fixture works. My paternal grandfather was a foreman for interior construction. Ostensibly, this should mean that he would be handy with tools, too, and from my eyes, he was. Still, I remember that whereas my maternal grandfather knew how to fix things, my paternal grandfather was a tinkerer. He would get his hands into something and figure it out as he went along. This resulted in varied success, but it also meant that my paternal grandfather would try anything.

I am a tinkerer. Growing up, I was always taking things apart, often without an exit (or should I say reformation) strategy. When it came to electronics, I was the one to set them up at the High household. New VCR? Get Jordan. Cable’s not working? Jordan. Someone ate all the acorns? ALVIN!

In fact, my tinkererness has continued to this day. When I’m back on Long Island, I’ll help my family set up a new Hi-Def TV. In the office, a co-worker comes to me to fix his computer problems, even though my on-paper knowledge of computers is painfully shallow. But I’m a tinkerer. It’s what I do.

So, with that same tinkerer’s eye, I went searching through the magical HTML code, and unlike the husk of a computer sitting at my parents’ basement, this time I got it right.

So…Presenting High on Poker! Now, for the Elderly.
Put down that Owl Optical Wallet Magnifier and enjoy the beautiful 100% sized text for your focal pleasure. Sit back, relax and read your High on Poker like it was meant to be consumed, in a reclined stupor. Go ahead. You deserve it.

I don’t know about you, but my eyes are thanking me already.

Until next time, make mine poker!

Every time I return from a poker trip, I take a several day hiatus from poker. It’s as though my body has reached the poker saturation point and any poker just feels like its too much to me.

The Vegas WPBT trip has been no different. As of yesterday, I had been away from the tables for about a week aside from a random SNG, which just confirmed my feeling that poker needed to take a break. It’s an interesting phenomenon, especially since I consider myself to be a poker degenerate. Regardless, when I need these poker hiatuses, it is seemingly entirely out of my control. I’m like a fat kid at a buffet. Even though I love to eat, eventually, I just can’t take any more.

Its just about ending, though, and its about time too. The planets are aligning and the result is an infusion of funds into online poker. It’s the methadone of poker, but methadone serves its purpose.

So, I’ll be playing online poker at Bodog hopefully for the time being. And in the meanwhile, I will be gearing up for some more live 3/6 Hi/Lo mixed games at the Wall Street Game on Wednesday and poker in Atlantic City for a very special holiday episode of High on Poker.

Until next time, make mine poker!

I have no idea what time it was when I woke up on Saturday. All I knew was that I needed to take it easy in anticipation of the blogger tournament scheduled for 3pm at the Venetian. I futzed around the IP, killing time. This is probably the first time in this trip report where a block of time just seemingly disappeared.

Dave Ruff and Timmy Bones, two of my buddies from my high school days, were in Vegas on their own vacation. Over the last couple of nights, we had kept in touch via text messages, but with so much blogger mayhem going down, I hadn’t seen them yet. I was playing 1/2 NL at the IP when they called. We arranged to meet outside the IP (they were going to call me when they were there), and then head over to the Venetian for the touranment. I was still sitting in my seat when I saw Ruff enter the IP poker room. I checked my cell and saw I missed their call. That’s the way with poker. I tend to miss a lot unless it will help me win some money.

The three of us walked over to the nearby Venetian, catching up along the way. At the Venetian, we entered the Grand Lux Cafe, where we had breakfast/lunch. I went with a patty-melt type concoction, which consisted of a oblong burger patty on a long parmesan-crusted roll, with copious amounts of grilled onions and cheddar cheese. The food was amazing, and I barely finished half of the burger/sandwich before my stomach gave up on me.

While we sat, we went over the sheets from the Venetian sports book. Ruff and Bones know more about sports than I do, but I still gave my two cents. I had originally planned to bet on Ricky Hatton getting 3 to 1 odds (i.e., a $100 bet nets $300), but the mass of Brits had ruined the odds by placing a lot of action on Hatton. Since they messed with the odds, I liked Mayweather a lot better, but not enough to bet to him, since the payout would be miniscule compared to the amount wagered. I decided, instead, to bet that the fight wouldn’t go 12 rounds (aka, a No Go bet) for $50 ($90 profit if I win), and $10 each on Mayweather to win in the 9th or 10th rounds ($220 and $160 profit, respectively, on those small $10 bets). My logic was as follows: Hatton was expeceted to come out swinging, and Mayweather was expected to start cautious. This would tire Hatton out, setting him up for a late round knockout. I don’t like betting for 11th or 12th round knockouts, because often both fighters are too tired at that point to deliver a final blow. So, 9th and 10th seemed good to me. I was hoping it wouldn’t go the distance, mostly because if it did, I was confident that Mayweather would win, thanks to the crooked decision process and the need for a new big name in boxing. The only marquee name right now is Oscar de la Hoya, and he is over the hill. Boxing needs a new name and Mayweather was familiar enough. All he needed was a big televised win. Still, the odds were good on the knockout bet, and I would be just as happy if Hatton knocked out Mayweather.

After eating, we placed our bets. On a hunch, I also picked a 2-game parlay, once again betting that the Knicks were going to lose. I also bet on the Celtics to win. It was another whim-based bet, so I didn’t think much of it. After all it was just $20 to win $52 profit…and I was riding high from the profit on the 3-game NBA parlay from the night before.

We headed to the poker room, where I introduced Ruff and Bones to a few bloggers. We found our seats, and I could see both of my pals from my vantage point. My table was good, with Fuel55, Special K, KuroKitty, and Kyle from TwoRags.com. Aside from Fuel, I didn’t know the other guys really, but we became friendly at the table. In fact, I just realized that KuroKitty was KuroKitty. He merely mentioned his blog name, Poker Cats, and at the time, I knew the name of the blog, but I didn’t connect it with Kuro. Kuro, on the other hand, I know a lot better from blogger tournaments. Dawn from IHO was also sitting at the table, and we had a good time betting and calling each other just as if we were at the Crackhouse.

In the first 10 hands, I was dealt TT twice, AK twice, and 77 twice. In each instance, I raised preflop, immediately building my LAG image. Fuel made a comment in the third or fourth hand, “You can’t play every hand Jordan.” I raised and said, “Really, because so far I have.”

In that hand, I held TT and raised preflop from the 25/50 blinds to 150 or 200 in MP. I was called by The Mark, one of the G-Vegas crew, after he said aloud, “You’ve played every hand so far, so I’ve got to call.” The flop came down Q8X, with the X as a rag. The Mark checked. I bet out pot. He raised 2k on top. I looked at his stack and he only had another 2k or so behind. If I was to call, I’d have to push him all-in. I’d still have over 2500 left, which was more than enough with the low blinds. Still, I didn’t want to shoot myself in the foot. I thought for a while, and watched The Mark. He was eating Chinese food and kept turning away from the table to grab his drink or another bite. He seemed like he was distracted.

I have discovered a “new” tell; its new to me, but obviously a very common one. When a player is uncomfortable, generally, he/she will do something to indicate their discomfort. For some, its adjusting in their seat. For others, its playing with their chip stack. But across the board, I have noticed that players who bet and then take a drink are drinking to give them something to do when internally, they are panicking. Its like a baby to its bottle. There is something soothing about taking a sip.

What The Mark was doing was an exaggerated version of the sip tell, so I eventually pushed all-in. He called immediately and I thought I was screwed, until he showed 87o, for middle pair, shitty kicker. My TT held up and The Mark won a copy of the movie Gigli, for being the first person busted from the tournament.

From there, I went card dead, but I had chips to wait it out. When the blinds got high two or more hours into the game, I started stealing. About four hours in, the blinds were very high, and I found myself in constant cointoss situations. When you have a loose image, this is the biggest problem. Late stage tournaments require the ability to steal and the ability to AVOID cointosses. But my image encouraged calls, and so the cointosses were unavoidable.

Eventually, I made a play, reraising a shorty with TT, only to be called by Change100′s KK on the button or in the blinds (the important part was, she acted after me). I lost most of my chips and had less than 10x the BB. I got back some chips by stealing, but eventually went HU in a cointoss and was brought down to a pitifully short stack, around 5x the BB. I pushed on the next hand with AQ, and KuroKitty, on my immediate left, called with AK. No Queen and I busted in 25th out of 110 players.

After the tournament, I checked the scores on my 2-game NBA parlay and discovered I was now 5 for 5 in NBA picks. I went to the sportsbook and collected my money. It was already fairly late, and a bunch of people were hanging around contemplating dinner. I ended up joining Katitude and Honey Bunny, Mr. and Mrs. GCox, Tripjax sans WifeJax, PokerPeaker and WeakPlayer for the buffet at Harrah’s. The highlight of the meal came when the drunken Tripjax asked me to get him some duck. I got a drumstick for him and when I returned to the table, I asked him to hold out his hand. He did so and I placed the drumstick meat first into his palm. To his credit, he laughed it off and chowed down.

On a personal level, duck is some of the most delicious meat around. I’m shocked that it is not more common in the US. It’s essentially just fatty chicken, and if there is something Americans like, fat and chicken are high on the list.

After dinner we returned to the IP. My headache had returned (too much gambling), so Weak was kind enough to lend me some headache medicine. Thank god for the generosity of poker bloggers.

On the way to the IP, I received a text message from Dave Ruff: “Mayweather won in the 10th. Did you have it?” I did! In total, I won $250 profit on that fight, $90 for picking the No Go, and $160 for picking Mayweather to win in the 10th. Easy money! I was also running perfect on my sports bets.

At this point, I was solo, and decided to collect on my sports bets. My goal was to hit Caesars to cash in the 3-game NBA parlay and then Venetian for my boxing bets. When I got to Caesars the guy at the window looked at me suspiciously. “This is for the Venetian.” Sure enough, he was right. Amazingly, I never stopped at the Caesars book. I guess I just got things mixed up in my head. I walkde to the Venetian and cashed in my slips. On the way out, I bumped into Katitude, who was returning to the IP. Apparently it was a ghost town there.

Kat was right. It was quiet at the IP so I sat down at a 1/2 NL table in the back of the IP room. It was a perfect table for me. I like shortstacks and this table had plenty. There were also two tilting Brits, still miffed at Hatton’s loss. They played a very loose style of poker and explained that bluffing was a lot more common in the UK. That amazed me, but it was a pleasure to see. There was also a pudgy Asian guy, probably Phillipino, who was a big chatter. He kept calling people “bad ass”, and while it was annoying at first, I embraced his chattiness and was friendly with him, especially after I took his miniscule $80 stack by flopping a K with AK against his KJ. He rebought for $40…I shit you not. To my right was another Asian guy, this time playing the role of older, giggling Asian. He loved the looseness of the table and was giddy with excitement. On the far end of the table was a Caucasian guy who was luckboxing, but generally sucked. There were a few other marks at the table, including two girls. One sat to my immediate right and we made a friendship.

I won $185 before seeing Karol from IHO. My headache was still aching pretty badly, so I bummed some more meds off of her. I also hung out with Iggy and Mary at the time. It was a pleasure talking with Iggy. He had apologized earlier in the day for his offensive comments at the Pai Gow table the day before, but I told him sincerely that I am usually the one being offensive. He would get no shit from me. We also talked about how amazing the blogger group is. In general, there are a lot of losers in poker, both financially and personally. But this group was something different. The vast majority of the group were good people, and that’s all that matters to me. I told Iggy my general policy: “If you are nice to me, I’m nice to you.” I live by that code. And for the whole trip, everyone was nice to me.

I returned downstairs, but the combination of booze and the headache meds (I was drinking fairly heavily at the donktastic poker table) messed with my head too much. I walked around the casino floor for a bit, trying to cool off before returning to my table. When I got there, the table complexion had changed significantly. The Brits and Phillipino were gone. I racked up and left.

I returned to my room to chill for a bit and eventually came back down. Tripjax was playing 1/2 NL with Peaker (who had just left). It was a thing to behold. Trip was drunk, but he was like a buzzsaw through the table. Everyone was tilted, including a tough looking black dude who could’ve doubled as Mayweather’s bodyguard, and a drunk shlub who was absolutely loony due to Trip’s apparent luckbox ways. I sat down to join in the fun. After a while the table thinned and Fuel55 and Schaubs joined in on the fun. Fuel was on my immediate left and I was card dead, so I literally got nothing going. Trip eventually left and I decided to finish my orbit. I was down about $20-30. Dr. Pauly sat down along with the winner of the WPBT tournament, the Rooster. Pauly seemed to be playing loose. I think he reached showdown once and showed weaker cards than I had expected, given the action. My last hand was against Pauly. I had 99 and raised preflop. He called or maybe re-raised me. The flop was 8-high. I checked and he pushed. It seemed like BS so I called. The turn and river didn’t help either of us, but as it turned out, I was the one needing the help. He had KK and I shipped him a stack of chips. I left shortly after, slightly dejected that I lost my winnings from the donktastic table earlier in the night. In the end, I accepted my play; after all, my reasoning was sound. Pauly just happened to have a hand. I should have been looking for more tells, but I wasn’t playing my best.

I retired to my room where I hit the sack.

The next morning, I woke up around 8am. I grabbed some quick breakfast solo at the Burger Palace and placed a $20 parlay on three NFL games. I hit 2 out of 3, but the Steelers didn’t cover. I then headed to the airport solo, where I had a decent flight home.

I’d like to thank everyone I met. I should also mention Trauma, who I played with during the mixed games. I mention him here because when I think back on the weekend, he was one of the guys who I really enjoyed bullshitting with, yet I neglected to mention him earlier. Good times, Trauma.

I have to add one quick addendum. I mentioned the older guy with the Ponytail in my earlier post and alluded to the fact that we would see him again later. It was less than 24 hours ago that I had busted Ponytail when I was introduced to Johnny Hughes, poker author and frequent poster at Iggy’s site. As it turned out, Mr. Hughes was Ponytail. I found this particularly humorous, since his play post-learning who he is, seemed a lot different than my pre-discovery view. He was also a gracious and friendly guy. It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Hughes.

And that concludes our WPBT Winter Gathering Odyssey. Thanks for reading.

Until next time, make mine poker!