Alas, here at HighOnPoker, I’ve done my best to roll with the punches, and part of that meant changing my blogging schedule, so I would only write when I had something worthwhile. Fortunately, it now feels that this site went semi-dormant enough so that I can shake off the self-imposed shackles of readership and simply revert back to the core of why I wrote about poker: to chronicle my experiences and hopefully learn a thing or two.

With that windup, I should also admit that before my most recent day trip to Atlantic City, I really faced a crisis of conscience. Part of me felt like I just didn’t feel like going, and that it was more of a chore than a day of fun. I had seen this before in other settings. For instance, the Wall Street Poker game was awesome in its day. Host Jamie ran a tight ship, filled with fun, laid back players, quality supplies, and a great location. But after a while, the game dried up. People eventually get burnt out, even on a good thing. Before I left for AC, I really worried myself that I had lost that spark. I even considered jumping up in stakes to force myself to concentrate. In the end, though, it was that feeling of responsibility and loyalty, to ASG actually, that got me to go.

ASG had emailed me, or maybe I emailed him. Whatever the case, I knew I had Saturday free and I wanted to see if he was available for some underground poker in the city or, barring that, a trip to AC. After some emails, we decided on AC,with a plan to meet at the Port Authority Bus Terminal for the 9am bus. Once the plans were locked it, I was not going to flake. I had done that recently to ASG (and Matty Ebs) for an underground game in the city due to work commitments, and I didn’t want to do it again.

So, admittedly, feeling some duty, I forced myself to get up early and travel to the Port Authority early Saturday morning. I arrived earlier than necessary and ordered myself a breakfast sandwich from a generic deli. I then bought my ticket and waited by the proper gate.

At about 8:40, I saw the bus loading up, so I hopped on line, assuming that I would be set for the 9:10 bus. As it turned out, I read the schedule wrong, and the buses weer 8:30 and 9:00, so the 8:40 bus was actually the 9am bus, which had arrived early. Alas, by the time ASG had joined me, we were about 6 people from the front of the line, and the 9am was full. Thankfully, we had a last minute life suckout, when seven people left the 9am bus. The 7 complained that they could not get seats next to each other. Before they could reconsider their complaint, I had volunteered to take some of the newly opened seats. I ended up next to a smartly dressed hipster, who read Elle Decor the entire way. I can safely assume he was gay. ASG ended up several rows back, so I popped in my ear buds and watched different programs on my iPod during the almost 3-hour drive (due to Jersey Shore traffic).

The bus left us off at Trump Plaza, which worked out well, since I forgot all of my players’ cards. With the Academy Bus service, you get the roundtrip ride plus a casino freeplay of $25 for a total price of $36. Most casinos require you to have a players’ card, but Trump Plaza’s system is a bit different, so I got my $25 freeplay without having to first get a card. I ran through the $25 in a $1 slot, while ASG won $7 with his $25 freeplay at a video slot machine. To be clear, he actually lost $18 of the $25, but since he could withdraw the $7 (after playthrough) he ended up with $7 more than me.

After running through out freeplays, it was time to play some poker. We first headed to Bally’s so that ASG could cash in another freeplay. As it turned out, he didn’t actually have any more freeplays, but we were close enough to the Bally’s poker room that it seemed like a logical option.

Sadly, the Bally’s poker room seemed dead. There was only one 1/3 NLHE game spread, and I was unwilling to play their 1/1, $100-cap buy-in game. ASG wasn’t willing to wait either, so we walked to the next hotel on the strip, Caesars.

I really don’t love Caesars. Their table games are overpriced and their food selection lacks the type of easy takeout places a discerning poker player needs. But it was nearby, and I didn’t think there were many better options, so off we went.

When we arrived, two seats were open on the same table, so ASG and I locked them up and we went to the cage for cash. I tried something I hadn’t done in a while, and bought $400 in chips, two stacks of reds and two $100 chips. I stuck the $100 chips in my wallet for reserve, and hoped that I would not need to top off my stack during play.

Looking back, I think I bought the extra $100 chips because I hate waiting for the dealer to make change between hands. On another level, when one does that, I think it signals to the other players that you are losing (which you obviously are, if you are rebuying). Losing begets losing, largely because your opponents can taste the blood in the water and will go after you harder; meanwhile, the person losing is often susceptible to tilt or other forms of leaks.

I grabbed the 4 seat and ASG took the 7 seat, eventually moving to the 6 seat when it opened up. On my immediate right was an older gentleman, with a slight frame and a gray mustache. He was very friendly, and also very bad at poker. He limped with any Ace and called down hands light. My position was perfect. On my immediate left was an Asian guy, probably in his mid-20s, who was from the Buffalo area. He was friendly as well, and I respected him instantly as a player because of the way he conducted himself, but as the session wore on, it became clear that he had his leaks as well.

I won my first significant pot from the Old Guy on my right. I held A6d and limped into the pot. The flop was KK6, and the Old Guy bet $5. I was the only caller, even though there were a lot of limpers. The turn was a blank and he bet $15. Something seemed fishy so I called. The river was another blank, and he pushed all-in for $14. I didn’t realize how short he was prior to the hand, which was my error. Now that I only had to call $14, I felt priced in and even announced, “Okay, I guess I’ll pay you off.” At showdown, he had A8o, for high-card Ace. I took down the pot with my two pair, Kings and Sixes.

Once I saw the type of player he was, I made some more cash with JK. I was in the SB, and he was in position on the button. The flop was Jack-high, and there were a decent amount of limpers. I bet out $8 into the $10 pot, and only the old guy called. I bet $15 on the turn and $21 on the river, bets designed to keep him in the hand. It worked. He called and at showdown, he showed middle pair. My top pair was good.

It was one of those days when you are faced with the reality that you do not have to be the best player in the world as long as you are better than the players around you.

I lost $100 or so when I was drawing for the nut flush draw with A9s against the Asian. I probably called too much when he re-raised me on the turn, but at least I got away from his all-in river bet.
My next big pot came when I held 66 and raised to $12 preflop. I was out of position and there were lots of limpers, so I hoped to thin the herd. It utterly failed, though, and most players stayed in the pot.

Fortunately, the flop was 623, giving me top set. I bet out (I do not recall the amount) and got action from the Asian and an old white guy in blue polo shirt who had been playing alternatively aggressively and tight. The turn was a 4 and I bet again. This time, the Asian raised allin, but not for much then I already had bet. To my surprise though, Blue Polo pushed all-in on top. After my earlier losses, I had taken out one of my $100 chips and placed it atop my stack of reds. I took my time trying to figure out whether Blue Polo had the straight, but I could not see any hands that made sense there, given the preflop and flop betting. Finally, I decided to call all-in for my last $175+, thinking that he maybe had a vulnerable hand and/or wanted to isolate against one player.

Sadly, Blue had 55, the only hand that made sense (somewhat) and could beat me. I say somewhat, because he called the flop bet, which was sizable, with nothing more than an inside straight draw and middle pair. Regardless, I saw that I was now woefully behind, and I began to think “2, 3, 4. 2, 3, 4,” hoping for the three cards that would help me make a full house. The river was a 3, and suddenly the huge pot was pushed in my direction. But first the dealer had to count out my all-in call. Blue Polo had me well covered.

After counting out my reds and placing my $100 chip in its own single-chip pile, the dealer announced the amount, something like $178. Blue Polo was surprised. “Wait, how much?” The dealer repeated himself and then pointed out my black chip. Blue Polo complained lightly, “That should have been visible. I didn’t see it.” Finally, I chimed in, “It was on top of my chips, and nothing was covering it. What else was I supposed to do. It was clearly visible. I wasn’t going to put it in its own stack. It’s just one chip.” Thankfully, an older gentleman in the 1 seat agreed with me and stated so, “It was out there on top. Plain to see.”

For what its worth, Blue Polo didn’t fight it much and accepted his fate and my explanation. But, it did highlight for me that there may be a benefit to packing your own backup chips. When you need to reload, not only do you avoid the announcement, “HEY I’M LOSING OVER HERE!” You also gain a hidden advantage, since people are not expecting your $100 chip in play. Ka ching!

I should also note that after winning the hand, I sheepishly offered, “I just got lucky.” I didn’t 100% mean it, but I like creating the impression that I am lucky and not good (ironically, if a blogger were to post that he/she thought I was lucky and not good, I would take offense; if a live poker opponent said that, I would nod and agree…pride is a weird thing). In response, Blue Polo made a very astute comment, “I had to get lucky first.” We both agreed, it didn’t matter who got lucky. All that mattered was who got lucky last.*

In my next big hand, I held QQ in the SB, with lots of limpers. I considered raising big to thin the herd, but I wanted some action, so I went with $12. That was too low, as it turned out, because I got a slew of callers to see the 985 flop with two spades.

I am a bit worried about the flush draw, so I bet out $40. Amazingly, ASG of all people raises to $110, and it folds back to me. I tried to think things out, but nothing clear was coming to me. I figured he either got lucky with a set of some sort, or he had the draw. I could even see a draw like JTs, for a flush and straight draw on the 985 flop. I finally reluctantly called after goading him with, “Are you pulling this with a flush draw?” In hindsight, this was a stupid statement to make, because once the flush card river came, I had to fold to his bet. And what did he have? 98, for flopped two pair. Whoops! At least I was giving money to a friend.

At around 3:00, I was fairly hungry, since I had breakfast at 8:30. We finally racked up our chips and decided to grab some grub. I was up $153 on my session, after peaking at around $270+. Most of the lost profit went to ASG, who had a struggle at the table yet left nearly even.

The next question was where to eat. It turns out that Bally’s has a mini-food court with a Sack O’ Subs and a pizza place in it. We went there and I wolfed down a chicken parm hero while ASG leisurely ate his Sack O’ Subs special, which is essentially an Italian hero.
After lunch, we decided to check out the Bally’s poker room again. This time, there were more tables running, and once we added our names to the 1/3 list shortly before a new table was called. I once again loaded up $200 in red and another $200 in backup chips, this time 8 $25 chips, since the cage did not have $100s.

In my first hand, I was dealt J8o in the SB, and saw a J9x flop with five other players. I bet $10 and a tall, thin Punjabi on my left called. I wasn’t sure if he were Indian or Muslim, and I’ll admit that as a bit of added motivation, I thought of him as a dirty terrorist. I know that may seem odd and maybe even a tad racist, but I do find that sometimes I can get extra motivation from such things. I had to win his chips so that it wouldn’t go to Al Qaeda! In reality, he was definitely Indian, and was extremely Americanized, with two white Dudes accompanying him to the game. Even so, he acted like the big shit, like he was going to show everyone who was top dog. I picked up on that fairly early, and it fueled my hate for him as the day wore on.

The turn was a Jack and I check. He bet out $15 and I check-raised to $40 before he almost instantly pushes all-in for $200 more. He had me covered and I took my time. I had trips, but any better kicker had me  beat, and I could not see why he would push with a weak Jack. I finally decided to fold, and he flashed me the Jack. I replied, “Yeah, we all knew about that one. It was the other one I was curious about.” He mucked his cards and then said, “It was a Two.” I’m fairly sure he was lying, but maybe he was telling the truth. In any event, I replied, “In that case, you had me outkicked,” as sort of a snarky, wise-ass retort and a sign that his cards and chatter didn’t really bother me, since I said it in a flippant manner.

My next major hand was AJo. I called a raise to $10 preflop with many other players, and we saw a Jack-high flop. I bet out $40 and ASG called. It then folded to the guy on my right, who raised. I asked to see my neighbor’s stack and then decided to push all-in. My thinking was that he could not have an overpair because he did not raise pre-flop. I also figured that I looked weak after my fold to the Punjabi in the J8 hand. To my surprise, ASG and the guy on my right called, and we saw the turn and river. The river was a beautiful Ace, and when we reached showdown, it was revealed that ASG had the nut flush draw that missed (he hit his Ace, but that wasn’t enough) and the guy on my right had Queens. He was ahead until the river, when I sucked out. Lucky me! And just like that, my $200 stack was up to 450.

I had my vengeance from the Punjab when I held 44 and raise to $10 in EP. I got a shit ton of callers and we saw a 467 flop with two diamonds. I bet out $50, determined to push out the drawing hands, and Punjab raised to $125. One of his two Dude buddies were sitting at the table behind a bunch of chips. He wasn’t a particularly good player, but he was a gambler and had gotten lucky with shit cards before. The Dude folded and the action got back to me. I decided to push all-in, and the Punjab called me without counting my push. He then announced to the table, “He has an overpair,” gesturing to me. Clearly, this guy was SOOOOO good that he saw right through me.

Of course, I did not have an overpair, but rather the lowest possible set. But as my mind is thinking, I came to realize that based on his statement, he probably also has a set, since he can beat an overpair. Since I have the lowest possible set, I must be in trouble, right?

I ask, “So if you think I have an overpair, then you must have a set, right?” He nodded in agreement. I asked which one and he shut up.

I figured I was definitely the loser, especially after the turned 8 and rivered 2 of diamonds. However, when I showed my cards, the Punjab folded. As it turned out, he had top two pair on the flop, or so he claims. For what its worth, I believed him. I also delighted in his prediction. “He has an overpair.” Good job, Kreskin.

I only had one significant hand that I took notes on after that hand. In it, a loose player ended up all-in against me for around $108 preflop. I held QQ and he had AQ. He hit his Ace and I gave back some of my winnings.

When the session was done, I was up $453 at Bally’s alone, and $606 total on the day. At my peak at Bally’s I was probably up near $700 or more, but my hands stopped hitting and I gave some of it back. Alas, it wasn’t a bad take on the day.

We decided to leave the game when the Punjab and his friends left, leaving the table shorthanded. We made our way to some diner-type place, where we ordered grilled cheeses to go. We made our way to the bus depot at Bally’s and made the 8:30pm bus, eventually arriving in the city around 11.

$606. Not bad for a day’s work.

Until next time, make mine live poker!

*This parallels my thinking when it comes to that fateful hand between Chris Moneymaker and Phil Ivey from the 2003 WSOP Main Event, where Ivey got lucky hitting a flop (or was it a turn) before Moneymaker got lucky rivering a better hand. Ivey got as lucky as Moneymaker, but Moneymaker got lucky last.

A week ago, I was in my office with my co-workers at a special lunch held for a co-worker’s birthday when everyone was discussing their upcoming weekend plans. Someone asked me and I explained that I was going away with wifey Kim for her birthday. Where?, they asked next. “Atlantic City,” I replied, and the entire room snickered.

Yes, I was taking wifey Kim, a non-poker player, to a gambling den for her birthday, but it was not like I bought her a bowling ball with the initials HoP. I sincerely wanted to show her a great time, and I realized that the best solution would be to give her a mini-vacation geared specifically to her likes. Surprisingly, AC had it all.

Our plan was to come in Friday night, but by Thursday, it was clear that we would be wiped from a long work week. We settled on canceling Friday and leaving early in the morning Saturday.

Saturday morning, wifey Kim and I woke up around 7am and quickly got ready before heading to the Port Authority Bus Terminal for two $35 roundtrip bus tickets to AC. We arrived shortly before 8:30 and were able to get seats in the half-empty bus without issue.

At approximately 11am, we arrived at Bally’s, one of the two stops for the bus. Neither stop was particularly convenient for us; we were staying at Harrah’s, which is located off the Boardwalk, so we’d need to find our own transportation to our eventual destination.

We disembarked and waited for two $25 freeplay slot coupons, which came with the $35 bus ticket. Once we had those in hand, we walked to the casino to run through the play-through as quickly as possible. We found a bank of 50 cent Wheel of Fortune slots and went to work, eventually cashing out $53.50. In the ten or so trips I’ve made to AC by bus, this was the first time I actually walked away with money from a slots play through. Ka ching!

Wifey Kim and I then made our way to the taxi stand and headed to Harrah’s, where we checked in early with nary an issue. We were placed in the Bayview Tower, which is actually attached to the newest tower, the Waterfront Tower. I had considered upgrading to the Waterfront, but I didn’t know much about it and I got a great rate for the  Bayview. Now, I’ve never been in a Waterfront room, but I can say that if you were to walk on any given Waterfront Tower floor and transition over to the  Bayview Tower, you wouldn’t even realize you changed towers. The connecting area is simply another hallway, so it feels like one tower instead of two. Of course, the Waterfront rooms might be amazing for all I know. The Bayview rooms were great, though, with a huge, well-appointed bathroom, a comfortable couch, and a great view of the indoor pool dome.

Once we had settled in, I started phase 1 of wifey Kim’s birthday weekend. We changed into bathing suits and returned to the first floor before making the short walk to the pool’s entrance.

The Harrah’s pool scene is like no other in Atlantic City (hell, maybe the North East). The pool is enclosed in a 9-story glass dome, and is temperature controlled at 82 degrees. The scene feels like something out of a Vegas pool, with oversized lounge chairs around the pool for “tanning’” (more on that later), a bunch of private cabanas with couches and TVs, multiple hot tubs all around the pool area (at least 5, of varying sizes), fake palm trees for ambiance and a bar for drinks and food, complete with high tables for eating. Cocktail waitresses in bikini tops and small wraps around their bikini bottoms served drinks poolside and in the restaurant area of the bar.

It was probably around noon and we were able to find one available lounge chair. We dumped off our stuff and made our way to the bar area, securing a table so that we could get some food. I went with a chicken caesar wrap and a beer; wifey Kim went with a salad. Both were very good.

Surprisingly, the bar staff was filled with 6s and 7s. It was so obvious, I even pointed it out to wifey Kim. “Wouldn’t you think that Saturday afternoon would be prime time to be a poolside cocktail waitress?” “Yeah, I guess.” “Then why aren’t they bringing in all the attractive waitresses! This is like bringing in the weekday girls to work the weekend night shifts at a strip club!” Amazingly, wifey Kim didn’t flinch at the analogy and actually agreed.

After eating, we returned to the lounge chair and annexed another one nearby that had just become available.

For 82 degrees it wasn’t quite “hot” in the pool area. I would’ve guessed it was closer to 75 or so, but without a breeze, it was pleasant enough.  Wifey Kim and I both read poolside until she and eventually I fell asleep. We were only asleep for about 30 mins, but we woke up refreshed.

As for the tanning, well, no luck there. While the room is designed to feel like you are outside in a tropical environment, the windows are actually designed to block UV rays. So, while my goal was to allow wifey Kim to tan in the winter (she loves the sun), instead we got the equivalent of a O’Doul’s tan! All the flavor of the son, with none of the fun effects!

After some time in a hot tub, we laid out some more. Our plan was to go to one of wifey Kim’s favorite restaurants, Ruth’s Chris Steak House, for dinner, but we hadn’t gotten reservations and wifey Kim was curious about other options. The fine dining options at Harrah’s didn’t appeal to her, so we checked out the nearest hotel, the Borgata. After seeing what they had to offer, we settled on reservations at Bobby Flay’s Steakhouse. We were aiming for 7:30 reservations, but could only get 6pm or 8:30. We went with the latter.

After lounging some more, we returned to the room to shower and get ready for the evening.

Our first stop were the table games, which were incredibly busy. We eventually made our way to a bar in the middle of the casino floor. Wifey Kim was thirsty, so we got her a seltzer (no booze just yet) and sat at one of the high tables that had a touchscreen free videogame system in it. Why the hell would a casino offer a free videogame in the middle of its floor? Likely the drink minimum for the table, which I suppose is easy profit too. Incidentally, we never hit the drink minimum, nor were we asked.

We got up from there and moved to an electronic roulette setup, where twenty or so touchscreens are set up around a pit with a single roulette wheel. I usually dislike these machines, but the place was packed and the birthday girl wanted to play roulette. The game was a lot better than I expected, though, once I got a handle on the betting system. The benefits are obvious. There are no fat people taking up the entire rail around the betting area. There are no crazy Asian squeezing in between players (always leading with their elbows, somehow) to drop $100 on Red. The stakes can be lower (you can bet increments of 50 cents, if you like) and the minimum total bets was lower as well ($5 instead of the $10 or higher at the normal tables). Wifey Kim ended up even. I ended up busto on a $100 buy-in. All was well.

From there, I had wifey Kim join me for some Pai Gow Poker, where I lost another $100. By then, it was getting late, so we headed to the cab stand and made our way to the Borgata.

We were actually more than 30 mins early for our reservation, so we decided to walk the casino floor and scope out the scene at the Borgata. Its a beautiful hotel with a great selection of restaurants, but the higher minimum stakes and air of eliticism is a real turn off for me.

At about 8:10, we returned to Bobby Flay’s Steakhouse and announced our appearance to the woman checking the reservations. We then grabbed a couple of drinks (alcoholic) and killed some time in the bar area.

We were seated about 5 minutes after our reservation time, which was impressive since the place was packed. While those around us were ordering appetizers and the like, we decided to cut right to the chase. We both went with NY strip steaks. I went with the “Philadelphia” style steak, served with Provolone sauce and sauteed onions. Wifey Kim got some spicy steak thing that was originally a T-bone (she downgraded to NY strip because she wanted to avoid a cut that had a lot of fat – - not fat calories, but actual fat on the steak).  For sides, we went with two potato dishes, a smashed baked potato with goat cheese and a sweet potato gratin. The smashed baked potato was delicious, reminding me of a side dish I stole and adapted from Astin’s blog. The sweet potato gratin tasted more like a sweet maple dessert than anything else; it surely wasn’t cheesy. The steaks were the highlight of the meal. Both had a perfect char and tender inside, and the sauces, served underneath the steaks instead of atop, were delicious and not overbearing on the meaty steak flavor.

For dessert, wifey Kim got the key lime pie, which was too liquidy to me. She liked it though. Me? I skipped dessert. I was too full from steak.

After dinner, we returned to our hotel. Later that evening, wifey Kim had already fallen asleep, so it was time for my time.

I carefully left the bed, making sure not to wake my Sleeping Beauty. I had already laid out my poker clothes earlier in the evening. It was no surprise that I was sneaking out for poker. It was well known to wifey Kim. I wait for her to sleep mostly out of respect and love; also, it was her birthday.

Geared up, I left the room at about 11pm. Granted, it was early for sleep time, but we were up at the crack of dawn and had a long day behind us.

I made my way to the poker room and considered a 2/5 game, since I wouldn’t have much time and I was looking for an excuse to up the stakes. Alas, the 1/2 tables had no wait and 2/5 did, so I took a 1/2 spot and bought in for $200.

I didn’t record hands, but I do recall that I lost about $80 before reloading another $100, after I tried to bluff a hand away from a guy two seats to my left. The guy was in his 50s, and looked like a grayer Capt. Lou Albano.  In fact, the inset picture is a more recent pic of Albano that is fairly close to the the guy on my left.

Albano was wearing a Green Bay Packers jersey and was rocking a couple of face piercing, which was unexpected, given his age. He had a gravelly voice and liked to talk. Meanwhile, a cadre of other scummy-looking dudes kept stopping by to pilfer money or check on the status of their ride back to the rock they crawled out of.

The whole aire about this guy was odd. It was as though he were the Daddy to a clan of white trash degenerate hillbillies.

I was in the 7seat, and Albano was in the 9th. He was calling with a wide range preflop and took down my pot and about $80 when I thought I could push him off of a hand, when a couple of scare cards came. He ended up calling me down with top pair, low kicker, teaching me a lesson in the process about picking your spots.

Meanwhile, in the 2seat or 3seat, a round-faced dude was putting on a show. He was in his late 40s, most likely, and as I sat at the table, I learned more about him from the people around me and his own actions. The dude had tight graying hair, clearly balding atop to the point that it was just a smattering of bristles atop. He wore a blue pullover hoody that was not in the least stylish. He had a chipmunk’s mouth that was often slightly agape, allowing his two jacked up front teeth to get full display of the action. He looked perpetually confused and had to ask about the action repeatedly. He also took his dear sweet time with every decision. He was, to state it plainly, druink.

Supposedly, when he came to the table, he said that he never played before. Albano wasn’t buying it or the drunk routine, and since I was closer in proximity to Albano, I agreed with him verbally, and disagreed internally. I think Albano was just upset that he wasn’t able to get anything going against the Drunkard. It was actually quite annoying, because Albano at some points would even talk shit loud enough so the entire table could hear. I wanted him to shut the hell up, and even suggested once that we didn’t want to scare away the “fake” drunk because even with his “act” he still was a soft spot at the table. At one point, one of the dealers was fed up with the Drunkard’s slow play and antics, to the point that me and one other guy at the table had to remind the dealer to not scare away the players.

After being down around $100, I eventually made a comeback, leaving 2 and a half hours later with $156 in profit. It was a small sum, but good enough, so I decided to lock in the profit and call it a night early. I was initially willing to play to 3am, but the hours started to drag on me and I had grown exhausted.

With money in hand, I took the trip to the elevator, and rode up in a crowded car. I was the second-to-last floor, such that right before I got out, it was just me and five white dudes, who were clearly drunk. The entire ride up, I was joking with them, and when we were alone, one guy in particular, bald, tall and fat, turned around and made a joke to me about punching me in the face. It was out of nowhere and I was clearly outnumbered, so I did what I usually do in these situations: I talked my way out of it. In this case, I acted like it was all a joke. “Yeah, ha ha. I’d like to see that!” The elevator door opened, and I pushed the guy aside to get out. I still thought that we were all joking, but as I stepped out, I heard him say, “Douschebag.” WHAT? This was clearly out of nowhere, and lord knows I don’t have the ability to let anything slide, so I responded, “You’re calling me a douschebag? Fuck off,” as I walked from the elevator. I had rounded the corner when I heard the ding of the elevator door opening and heard him call out, “You are going to call me a douschebag?!” I guess he thought I was calling him a douschebag back, but it just as well could’ve been that I misheard in the first place and when I questioned him, he thought I was calling him the dousche. I had already rounded the corner, but I heard him call out, “Come back here and say that to my face.” My room was right around the corner, so I entered the key quietly as I said, “Alright asshole, I’m coming back,” as I quietly entered my room and closed the door. I knew once I was in the room they wouldn’t know where I had entered, so I was really just fucking with him in the end. But the whole interaction fucked with my head, and it was a good while before the adrenaline had passed and I was ready to sleep.

The next morning, wifey Kim and I spent my $29 in comps and an additional $20 on the breakfast buffet, so that we could avoid any lines. The buffet at Harrah’s was fantastically appointed, and we both grabbed some items for later in the day.

We then made our way by cab to Caesar’s, where we left our  bags with the bellhop and walked to the outdoor outlet mall. Several hours and hundreds of dollars later, we were back at Caesars, grabbing our stuff and heading over to the bus depot for the 1:30 bus.

When we arrived at Caesar’s bus depot, we were confronted by an insanely long line. It was 1:06 pm, so we were 24 minutes early, but there were enough people on line to fill up the 1:30 and likely the 2:30 busses, meaning we’d have to wait for 3:30. We hopped on line while we discussed possibilities. Meanwhile, another couple ahead of us discussed the possibility of taking a cab back to NYC. We hit it off and found out that collectively, it’d cost $250 for a cab to NYC. We agreed on an even split, and were out by 1:45pm in a cab. Several hours later, we were home.

The trip was an amazing success.  Wifey Kim got to enjoy some summer-like weather, a good steak, and some shopping. I got to enjoy some poker and seeing my one and only happy.

I have a renewed appreciation for AC. Here was a trip where gambling was secondary, and yet we had an amazing time. After a brief overnight trip, we both felt refreshed and relaxed.

Until next time, make mine poker!

For those who have not been following along, over the last year, there have been some huge changes to the poker scene in the Northeast, with some of the biggest changes yet to actually take hold.

In September 2009, I wrote about a recent Pennsylvania law that permitted the addition of table games to a state that had already legalized slots.

In November 2009, I wrote about a law that recently passed in Ohio that permitted casinos, including poker, in several major cities.

Well, just a few months later and it looks like we get to add Delaware and possibly even Maryland to new Northeast poker hotspots.  Lawmakers in Delaware recently voted to extend their already legal slots and sportsbetting (incidentally, the only legal sportsbetting on the East Coast) to include table games and a law has been proposed in Maryland to expand their video lottery operations. The Delaware law recently passedand if the Maryland law passes , AC will be facing even more competition from its nearby neighbors.

I’ve been trying to determine if my concerns for AC are unfounded or not, but after creating a Google Map with the old poker options (for me, that meant AC, Foxwoods, Mohegan Sun and Turning Stone), I added the new potential rooms based on various reports I had seen and have created a map that looks like a nightmare for AC.

Here is an old map showing just the poker options generally available to people in the New York City area.

View NorthEast Poker 2008 in a larger map

I recommend zooming out to get the full effect.

As you can see, there was not much competition. Why? Because almost universally, gambling was frowned upon. When AC introduced gambling, it was merely because of the depressed seaside town and the success of Vegas that allowed the gambling expansion. When Native Americans figured out they could open casinos, Connecticut and even upstate New York saw additional casinos to compete with Atlantic City. But even then, the options were few and far between. After all, the puritanical, anti-gambling sentiment that permeated the Northeast was still in full effect.

Now, a demystification of gambling, together with the financial needs of the State have seen gambling sprout like a weed in a neglected garden. Of course, even weeds can eventually be turned into a commodity.

The result:

View NorthEast Poker 2010 in a larger map

The old haunts are depicted with the yellow dollar signs, since those are where I currently make money (holla!). I added the nearest new likely casinos with the fire icon, since they seem to be spreading like wildfire and are a danger to AC. I used simple red warning signs for some of the further rooms, which I do not think are likely to directly affect AC, except for maybe reducing some charter flights.

What do you see? AC is under siege! I even included a recently added West Virginia room (I’m sure there are more) to demonstrate how this isn’t just an attack from one direction; AC is taking it from all ends.

What can AC do? Well, mostly pray. Unless AC can find another reason to attract customers, AC will continue to suffer. In my estimation, that means that AC needs to do three things:

1. Lower Room Rates – Room rates in AC are often prohibitively high, especially during the summer months. But if AC is going to attract players who can find poker nearby, AC will have to be a destination and all destinations need affordable accommodations. This way, when your buddy says, “Let’s go play some poker this weekend!” you’ll say, “Okay, I have some cheap rooms at the Tropicana in AC and I love that place, so let’s go!” instead of “We’ll hit the casino downtown, since it’s convenient. AC is overpriced anyway.”

This may already be happening. I received an advert with two free rooms in the Tropicana Casino Hotel for any time until April. It seems to include weekends, which is a rarity. The Trop is a great property, but it was recently under a lot of financial troubles and was sold to another company. That is probably the impetus for the free rooms, but at least the owners recognize that the first step to profit is to bring back the players.

2. Continue featuring Big Entertainment – AC already does a fairly good job with their slew of live entertainment. It isn’t Vegas, with large, established shows, but there are usually big comedy acts or musical acts in town every weekend and lesser acts during the week. AC needs to continue, and possible build, on this, because that, too, will create a Destination Town, as opposed to a gambling town.  For instance, when wifey Kim conned me into going to Dancing with the Star Live, she did so by suggesting we see the AC show. We did. It sucked. But at least we were already in AC, where we had an expensive steak dinner and gambled.

3. Diversify and Advertise – AC had been doing a good job of diversifying beyond gambling. The Tropicana, for instance, has an IMAX 3D theater. An outdoor outlet mall sprung up a few blocks from the boardwalk. Caesars renovated the old Ocean One mall to create an updated mall-like experience. A scary-looking carnival sprung up on the Boardwalk. These are key to AC’s future. AC cannot simply rely on being a gambling destination, so alternative activities, especially for the winter months when the beach is useless, is key. But even more than that, AC needs to rehabilitate its image. It’s seen as a shady, dirty, gambling hole that is a joke in comparison to Las Vegas. But if more people knew of the other things to do in AC (more is needed), then perhaps that image can be fixed and the crowd will look forward to AC, rather than settle for it because its the nearest gambling destination.

In the meanwhile, I’m already mapping nearby destinations. Allentown, Pennsylvania, here I come!

Until next time, make mine poker!

Once done, though, I was on my way for 5/10 LO8, which runs every Wednesday at the Tuna Club. I walked in and the table was already in full swing. I got a seat, ate my quick dinner (steak and jalapeno quesadilla from the Chexican restaurant next door) and then got to work.

It was clear that I was not the only person heading to AC for the weekend. W mentioned that she had extra space in her hotel room if anyone wanted to split the cost. Boat, a big, 50-year old black guy who could pass for 25, was also chatting about accomodations. One guy, though, seemed to have more information than most.

I had never previously met the guy wit the answers, but at a poker table, its usually easy to strike up a friendly conversation. I piped in, “So, you played this tournament before?” AnswerMan said yes, so I followed up with some more questions.

How many runners did it get last time? 225 or so.

How did you do? 10th place.

How much did you win? A little over $1,000.

What was the buy-in? The same. $350+50.

What day of the week was the game last time? Friday and Saturday.

When did the game end on Friday? 1:15 AM, once down to 27 players.

When did action start on Saturday? 1 or 2 PM. (This time, action restarts at 2)

How late did you play on day 2? Until 6 PM, at which point, there were still 9 players left.

I mulled all of this over. I had planned on this trip for weeks, if not months. This was going to be my coming out party for 2010, out to the world of higher-stakes (but not high-stakes) tournament poker. And here I was feeling iffy about it.

Nothing seemed to make sense. I had already co-opted Roose and Hole to join me for the trip. Unfortunately, they both planned to only come down for Friday night and leave Saturday, which left me in AC alone and without a ride home. W mentioned that the busses from AC to NY are actually more expensive than the busses from NY to AC roundtrip, which makes some sense, since the AC casinos will subsidize you coming to them, but won’t subsidize you leaving. That meant that potentially, if I were to win the event or even final table, I would complete play around 6-8 PM Sunday night, then have to find a bus, take almost 3 hours door to door, and then appear at Court the next morning for work.

That is not how I play poker. One of the things i learned in my online poker junkie days was to never start a tournament you couldn’t finish. There was nothing worse than starting a tournament only to stare at the clock several hours later, kinda hoping to lose just so you could sleep. It would be much worse in AC, since I had so much traveling before I could rest. But if that was the only problem, perhaps I could make it work.

It wasn’t. That payout really stuck in my craw. I could make $1,000 profit at Showboat’s soft-as-butter tournaments with a $120 buy-in. I’d done it before, on several occasions, so why spend days in a tournament for a similar payout for 10th place. Let’s be real here. I play with the intention of winning, but I also am aware that sometimes, you can do everything right and still lose. Final tabling was a noble goal, but if I needed to be in the top few spots to see some real money, maybe I was putting too much emphasis on this one particular tournament.

These things danced in my head: timing and money. Timing and money. Timing and money. And then it became clear. I was putting too much pressure on this one tournament. Much like how wifey Kim and I decided that in two years we’d buy a house, only to learn that two years later, our feelings had changed, so to had my initial feelings changed. I was no longer looking forward to this tournament, but was almost anxious about it. I didn’t want to travel to AC with my buddies only to ditch out on them the entire time and play one single tournament whose potential profit, aside from the top spots, could be reached at a cash game or a lower buy-in tournament. I did not want to place myself in a situation where I was essentially losing (either monetarily or by wasting time and making my life more difficult) unless I took down a top tier spot. It just wasn’t adding up.

Thankfully, I have good degenerate friends, and when I informed them of my thoughts, they still wanted to go to AC. So, I’m still going. We have a cheapo room at the Hilton (another hitch, since its as far from the Borg as possible while still being a casino/hotel), so we’ll probably spend our time in the Trop poker room or even make it out to the Showboat late night tournament.

We’ll head back to NY on Saturday, likely in the early afternoon, but my poker doesn’t end there. Perhaps the straw that broke the camels back, Dawn decided to throw her monthly homegame that night. It’s a $30 rebuy, and I’ve had some success in the past, so I’m excited to play. I also haven’t attended one of these in months, so its always fun catching up with people.

Sorry if you are disappointed in me, but I do this for you, my dear readers. Ah, who am I kidding. I have to be true to myself, and that means not standing on ceremony.

Until next time, make mine poker!

After breakfast, wifey Kim still had a lot of showering and such to do, so I decided to hit up the casino floor for some Pai Gow. I spent a while at a $25 minimum table filled with mostly Asians. Wifey Kim finally found me when I was down about $100, a common theme of the trip. We decided to leave the game and move on to another.

That’s how our day went. We roamed around, gambling here or there. At around noon or later, we met up with wifey Kim’s grandpa and his girlfriend. they had bussed in for the day, so we had lunch with them at RiRa, an Irish pub/restaurant in the Trop. I had the cheddar burger with sweet potato fries. The meal was delicious and fairly cheap, thanks to a 20% off coupon from my Mom.

After lunch, we did some more gambling. Eventually, we had enough and went upstairs to relax. I headed over to Roose’s room, where Roose, Robbie Hole and Marc were hanging out. I taught Marc Israeli Poker, a game I’ll probably explain here some time soon. We futzed around before heading downstairs and saying goodbye to wifey Kim’s grandpa.

After that, wifey Kim and I hit up the craps table, where we lost some more. We were gambling with my poker money. It’s like a little gift each year, since wifey Kim let’s me play poker a shit ton. So, even though we were losing, we were having fun. My parents stopped by, fresh from Avatar, which they saw at the Trop’s IMAX theater. My mother proclaimed it amazing, which was enough to convince me that I need to see it soon.

Tired of gambling, the crew met up at the Rumba Bar, a newer bar near Trop’s table games floor. We each had a drink or two and enjoyed a cigar. When we were done, we headed to Cuba Libre, another Trop restaurant, fro dinner. We had previously arranged for a table near a TV, since there was an NFL game on, but when we got there, we learned they didn’t have the channel. Lemon!

We still sat near the bar, and ordered a ton of food. Mostly, we just got a bunch of samplers. While we waited for the food, we played 31, another great time-killer of a game that I may describe here shortly. I won for a $4 profit. BOOM!

Dinner was great. Once done, though, the guys were off to poker. I decided to hang with Kim, but when she started to fade, we went upstairs, where I eventually left her for some more poker.

I waited for a good 20 minutes for a seat to open up at 1/2 and when it finally did, I took my seat. The table looked like it was full of rounders. I sat down in the SB and had to sit out a hand. I followed the play as I heard an announcement that a new table was opened. I only heard about 8 names read off, so I returned to the cage and asked if I could be moved, seeing as I hadn’t played a single hand. The cage okayed my move and I joined my most fun table of the trip.

The benefits of a new table versus an established one is pretty obvious. At a new table, everyone starts with at the same level. There are big stacks beyond the max buy-in. There is no history or established reads. Hell, the players are even still on the same plane as it relates to getting into the flow of a game.

The negatives are a lot less, but still worth noting. The biggest negative, in fact the only one I can think of, is the tendency for players to be tighter when their session first starts. Consider most homegames that run multiple tournaments in a night. I can almost guarantee that in the first tournament of the night, the players are tighter and it takes a longer time for the first bust-out. By the last tourney, though, the players are already loosened up from the higher blinds (in later stages of the earlier tournaments) and emboldened by either their previous wins or losses.

So, my new table was tight. I mean, $6 raise preflop and everyone folds tight. But it was fun. It was basically a bunch of Jews and a couple of Asians, including a hot Asian chick sitting to my immediate left. My side of the table also included a young Asian kid on my right and his buddy, a Caucasian kid, on his right. The four of us (including the hot Asian chick) conspiratorially chatted and conspired when some obviously clueless players on the other side of the table made some truly absurd moves. We were all licking our chops.

I actually played fairly well, but the entire session can be boiled down to two hands. The first gave up most of my $80 or so profit. Even though my table crew were licking our chops, the Asian chick busted (after buyin in short twice) and the Asian kid couldn’t get much traction and left down about $100. The nitty table had a lot of small stacks, $100 or less, but I was looking to have fun and it was a relaxed table, so I didn’t mind.

In the first of my two hands, the Asian kid was already gone, replaced by a young, fit kid in his early 20s. The Kid was friendly, and sat down while saying, “Let’s give this a whirl.” I was under the impression at first that he was just trying out poker, based on his statement and small buy-in, but he seemed to understand the game fairly well. He had pushed all-in on one occasion and showed an unlikely 2 pair (rivered his second pair) for the win, so I had some thoughts on how he played.

The hand was a doozy. I held 48s and I was either in the blinds, or more likely I made a loose $2 call, since there wasn’t much preflop raising and I could outplay most of the table post-flop. I think there may’ve been a raise from one of the particularly weaker players, so when there were several callers, I joined the fray.

The flop was 6s7sX. It checked around. There was a small bet from the original raiser and I called, along with two other players.

When I hit my flush on the turn, I bet out a decent amount. My only caller was on my right, the Kid. The river was a blank. I was mildly concerned that my 8-high flush was no good, but when the open pushed for over $100, I had to think it out. I remembered that hte last time he pushed, he had rivered two-pair. I considered that he may’ve had two pair again, but I didn’t want to rush my decision. I turned to him and asked, “Do you have the flush?” “I do. It’s a high one too.” He waited a second and said, “The Queen.”

Now, I’ve said this here before, but not in a long while: Often times, people tell the truth when you ask them their hand. This is especially so if they do not hesitate. It is the usual reaction for human beings to tell the truth, and in poker, oftentimes they think, “I’ll tell him the truth, and he won’t believe me.” It’s like reverse psychology.

So, when he admitted to a Queen-high flush, I had to seriously consider that he was telling the truth. It would explain his play 100%. Calls the flop on a draw. Calls the turn when he was slowplaying. Pushes the river because now he knows he’s good. It may’ve even been an overbet for value. I considered that he had a major hand the last time he pushed. He then offered, “I’ll show you no matter what.”

That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Everything told me he had me beat. He seemed confident, we were friendly at the table before the hand, he said what hand he allegedly had, it made sense with the play, it fit his past play, and after all of that he offered to show no matter what. I figured he was being friendly. So, I folded. And he showed his bluff. Maybe he had top pair or something, but not a flush. Oh, and he did have the Queen flush card, but not two of the suit.

So, I made a mistake. I misread the situation and maybe talked myself into folding. Lemon! To make it worse, he then said, “I figured, why not, it’s my last hand.” He then packed up and left. FUCKER! I still laughed it off.

Before we get to my last hand, I figured I’d take a moment to discuss one of the more odd exchanges. I was playing a hand with a guy who looked like Pat, the androgynous character from 1980s or 90s SNL, except he was clearly a dude. He played like he thought he knew what he was doing, but it was all very ABC.

So, we are in a hand together and he is staring me down. So, I turn to him and stare him down, eye to eye. We held our pose for at least 30 seconds, which is a long time for a silent stare down. He then mucked and I laughed, “I think we just shared a moment there!” The table loved it and we went off on jokes about our “moment” for another 15 minutes. My favorite line was, “Was it just me, or was Endless Love playing in the background during our hand?”

I love those moments. All at once, all the tension is gone from the table and we are all just friends playing a game.

My final hand was in my last orbit. I held AQd and raised preflop to $12, getting a couple of callers. By now, the table had loosened up somewhat, but it still wasn’t an action table.

The flop came down A22 and it checked around. There were so many players, I didn’t want to mess around just yet. Anyone with a 2 was betting out, given the table, and I was out of position.

The turn was a King. LEMON! If anyone else had an Ace, my kicker would no longer play on the A22Kx board. But I bet out anyway and got one caller.

The river was a harmless 8 (thanks for the editing help, Woffles). My one sole competitor had about $50 in front of him. I figured we were lock for a chop, so I decided to push all-in. I figured I could pretend that I was slowplaying the deuce and maybe puck up the entire pot instead of half. It was a play with no downside in my head.

Now, if he had $300 behind, things would’ve been different. But he didn’t. He had $52, to be exact. So when he called, I was bummed to see his A8. If not for that rivered 8, it would’ve been a chop. Go fucking figure. He had no right to be in that pot with my prefop raise, but I wanted him there, so I wasn’t going to complain.

I was about even before that hand, but after it, I was down $97. It was late and I had enough. It was a fun session, but not entirely profitable. But sometimes, that’s just how poker is.

The boys all went upstairs for a late night hang out, before returning to our rooms for rest. The next morning, we all met up with the large group, as we said our farewells. Before leaving the city, though, we stopped by White House Sub Shop for some of their famous subs. Good stuff!

That’s it for this years X-mas in AC. Thanks for reading.

Until next time, make mine poker!