Another kid Another dream tl;dr
01-12-2010
, 12:21 AM
01-12-2010
, 10:38 PM
Day 19 "The Final Day"
As often and hard as I was working out during the first part of my trip, that’s as seldom and lazy as my workouts became towards the latter portion. Vegas will do that to you. Late nights at the clubs and craps tables turned into late mornings, and an urgency to get started with my day. The 2pm wake ups left me little time to exercise, write, eat, and get to the poker room at a reasonable time. As some of you probably noticed, sometimes I had to sacrifice the trip reports. Usually, however, it was the workouts getting set aside.
Any logical person trying to stay healthy would forego cheeseburgers, French fries, and cherry cokes during this time of limited physical activity. I however, am not a logical person. I took the liberty to eat at just about every burger joint in the whole town. In N out, Burger Bar at Mandalay Bay, Le Burger Brasserie at the Paris. Animal style, the truffle burger, extra grilled onions at the Paris. I feel like a cheeseburger expert. As a result I also feel like a total fat ass. Whatever sad resemblance of a six-pack I had to begin the trip now would be more easily confused with a keg. I swear to god I even jiggle a little bit when I walk. I guess this is the official initiation to the professional poker world? After all the results don’t lie. 9 days of working out and eating turkey sandwiches on wheat yielded break even poker. 9 days of feeding on booze and burgers and all of a sudden I’m winning 4 figures every day. Hear that kids? Healthy body, healthy mind…bull****. It’s all a big ****ing lie. Kidding, of course…I think.
Well maybe it was my figure, or perhaps the regulars just grew accustomed to me, but my opinion on the Bellagio pros has certainly changed. I used to refer to them as “grumpy, condescending, and pathetic”, but nowadays you won’t hear a bad word about them coming from my mouth. I definitely misunderstood them. I think that once they realized I was not a weekend warrior, or an internet kid coming to spoil the games for a few days, they let down their guard. Poker players are a weird breed. More often than not they are very intelligent people with interesting opinions and stories, but restrict themselves to only social interactions with other poker players. It’s as if they don’t think the typical man will understand. Understand that while you may be wasting time until dinner, they’ve been here all day grinding back from the 3 outer that mercifully took away that 4,000 dollar pot the day before. Understand that while variance may be keeping tourists like you coming back, that same bitch is the reason it’s been 5 years and they still can’t field a bankroll sufficient for 10/20.
The two who I’ve gotten to know over the past couple weeks are Anthony, the short old guy with the high-pitched voice, and Jim, the jewelry welder. First they began to recognize me, then they began to respect me, and finally they began to interact with me. They call me Miami Matt, or just Miami when pressed for time. They talk to me, ask me about Vegas, about my studies, and most importantly ask me about poker. These guys could talk poker for days on end. Whether it’s a hand they witnessed last week or whose been playing in Bobby’s room, these guys really do have a passion for the game. A passion that I’m still trying to figure out whether or not I share. Anyways as nice as it was to finally become “accepted” amongst the regulars in the game, it also had its downsides. It came at a time where I felt I had their games figured out a lot better than they had down mine, but every pot between us now turned into a friendly check, check, check unless someone hit it big.
I sat down on my last day in the must move 5/10. Honestly, my goal was to rack up a few more hours and try not to have a losing session. I was very content with the progress of my trip and how things were winding down. I was forced to change my strategy when my 100BB stack all of a sudden turned into 50BB right when I sat down. “Automatic straddle okay with you man”, asked a young internet kid at the table with most the chips. Ehh, why not. We played this way for about an hour until a few gentlemen sat down who were not completely comfortable with the structure. I managed to play a couple interesting spots. This one produced the most adrenaline.
3 limps and I’m in the BB with K
7. I complete and the straddle checks. 56
8
and I lead for 80. 2 calls and I lead for roughly pot (300) on a 10 turn. Only the straddle calls and I’m pretty certain by his body language that he’s on a pair + draw type hand. The turn is the Q
and I need to make a decision. I’ve already gone against my plan to play tight for the day, so I can give up and stomach the loss, or go after those chips in the pot. **** checking, I’m all-in, 580. It takes about 10 seconds for him to fold. Phew.
Without realizing it, I finally accomplished one of my goals on the last day, playing 10/20. Granted it was only 50BB deep, and unintentional, but still, I sat in a fairly large game, felt neither uncomfortable or unmatched, and left with a profit.
Moved to the main game, with no straddle, and I go hours fighting off terrible turn cards and inevitable coolers. One thing I’ve learned in my years of poker is no matter how well you think you’re playing, you can’t beat coolers and you can’t limit the scare cards.
My QQ gets cracked on a 334 flop against a tourist with 56. He tries to apologize, but it’s obviously unnecessary. Later on I have to fold my KK in an 800 dollar multi way pot on a 7 turn card after I’d bet pot on a 378 flop.
Finally, I get a chance to make my money back. KQ in the sb and I call a raise to 40 from the CO, as does the BB. We see a pretty safe flop of K65 and I call a continuation bet of 80. K turn and he bets 100 this time. I think about raising, but it doesn’t feel right. A 10 hits the river and now the guy fires 200. Well I can’t fold and I can’t raise, so I guess I call. 55. Wow. It’s gonna be one of those days, I think to myself. I rack up my chips, waiting for the BB to come so I can call it a day, a trip. However with 6 hands to calm down, I decide I'm not going to call it quits at 7pm on my last night.
I start beating the gentleman who took me down with the 56 of diamonds pretty badly. He plays too many pots with too many marginal holdings. The final hand happens with his chips racked up and his wife waiting on the rail. I raise to 50 in MP with AK and he makes it 150. Another caller in the middle and I join the party. Flop K32 and I lead for 200. The original raiser calls and we see another K on the turn. This time I check and He fires 300. I call. River 4 and I announce all-in. He only has 550 left and confidently shoves them into the pot. Of course that confidence would’ve scared me coming from a regular, but this guy had no idea what a good hand is on that board. His QQ is a loser and now I’m back up for the day. 800 to be exact.
After that pot, either the table got softer, or I got more confident. I began raising about 1/3 of my hands and winning pots without much resistance. My final 5/10 pot of the trip came while getting a massage from the masseuse who jump-started my upswing with the Jude Law look-a-like comment. I flopped top-two, boated on the turn and busted a players’ rivered straight. Up 1600 for the day. **** yes. That’s how a trip should end.
As I’m racking up and about to leave the masseuse asks me what I’m doing for the night and I look at her confused. I always wrote off her flirting and compliments as attempts at better tips. You get very accustomed to that type of treatment after three weeks in this city. She tells me she’s going to a local bar with some friends and wants to know if I want to roll with when she gets off. I had a little bit of a Kindergarten crush on this girl all trip so I tell her that sounds fun.
Instead of leaving like I planned, I sit in the 2/5 game and start working on my buzz while she finishes up work. The table’s great. Everyone’s very friendly, but there’s still a considerable amount of action. As each of my vodka red bulsl goes bottoms-up, more and more people start entering my pots.
One hand I raise to 25 with 66 in mp and get 5 callers. 56Q on the flop. BINGO. I Bet out 65, short stack shoves for 200 and your standard 2/5 donkey over calls. I shove in for like 500 all day and this guy calls again. The turn brings the 7 and the river the 10. ****, I knew it was too good to be true. First guy flips over AQ, but I’m more interested in the big pot. Donkey looks at my 66 starts nodding and then begins to flip over his hand. No ****ing way, you are not going to slow roll me. Not like that. Q….. K. Jesus please don’t scare me like that.
I start getting pretty drunk and go find my friend to see when she’s getting off. “Like 2” she says. ****, I can’t wait that late. I’ll never make my 9am flight. I tell her thanks, but I’m going to have to pass. We exchange numbers and I tell her I’ll call her next time I’m in town.
After another 700 dollar session and 2300 dollar day, my final total for the trip is roughly 9700 dollars. The walk from the poker room to the front door at the Bellagio is usually obnoxiously long. Today it seems far too short. Never in my poker career have I felt this satisfied. I’ve won online tournaments, bluffed Don Cheadle, and cleared out an entire table before. But something about setting out on a 3 week journey, amongst doubt from some family members, friends, and 2p2ers, only to prove that I can beat mid-stakes NL in Vegas fills my soul with joy.
Tomorrow I plan on writing a final recap of my trip, with my answers to everyone’s questions, my future plan/goals, and my opinions on everything that was my trip/Vegas. I want to say thanks to everyone who followed, as believe it or not having people holding me accountable not only motivated me to write every day, but also kept me playing my best poker.
Cheers and may all of you run like me one day,
Matt Moore
As often and hard as I was working out during the first part of my trip, that’s as seldom and lazy as my workouts became towards the latter portion. Vegas will do that to you. Late nights at the clubs and craps tables turned into late mornings, and an urgency to get started with my day. The 2pm wake ups left me little time to exercise, write, eat, and get to the poker room at a reasonable time. As some of you probably noticed, sometimes I had to sacrifice the trip reports. Usually, however, it was the workouts getting set aside.
Any logical person trying to stay healthy would forego cheeseburgers, French fries, and cherry cokes during this time of limited physical activity. I however, am not a logical person. I took the liberty to eat at just about every burger joint in the whole town. In N out, Burger Bar at Mandalay Bay, Le Burger Brasserie at the Paris. Animal style, the truffle burger, extra grilled onions at the Paris. I feel like a cheeseburger expert. As a result I also feel like a total fat ass. Whatever sad resemblance of a six-pack I had to begin the trip now would be more easily confused with a keg. I swear to god I even jiggle a little bit when I walk. I guess this is the official initiation to the professional poker world? After all the results don’t lie. 9 days of working out and eating turkey sandwiches on wheat yielded break even poker. 9 days of feeding on booze and burgers and all of a sudden I’m winning 4 figures every day. Hear that kids? Healthy body, healthy mind…bull****. It’s all a big ****ing lie. Kidding, of course…I think.
Well maybe it was my figure, or perhaps the regulars just grew accustomed to me, but my opinion on the Bellagio pros has certainly changed. I used to refer to them as “grumpy, condescending, and pathetic”, but nowadays you won’t hear a bad word about them coming from my mouth. I definitely misunderstood them. I think that once they realized I was not a weekend warrior, or an internet kid coming to spoil the games for a few days, they let down their guard. Poker players are a weird breed. More often than not they are very intelligent people with interesting opinions and stories, but restrict themselves to only social interactions with other poker players. It’s as if they don’t think the typical man will understand. Understand that while you may be wasting time until dinner, they’ve been here all day grinding back from the 3 outer that mercifully took away that 4,000 dollar pot the day before. Understand that while variance may be keeping tourists like you coming back, that same bitch is the reason it’s been 5 years and they still can’t field a bankroll sufficient for 10/20.
The two who I’ve gotten to know over the past couple weeks are Anthony, the short old guy with the high-pitched voice, and Jim, the jewelry welder. First they began to recognize me, then they began to respect me, and finally they began to interact with me. They call me Miami Matt, or just Miami when pressed for time. They talk to me, ask me about Vegas, about my studies, and most importantly ask me about poker. These guys could talk poker for days on end. Whether it’s a hand they witnessed last week or whose been playing in Bobby’s room, these guys really do have a passion for the game. A passion that I’m still trying to figure out whether or not I share. Anyways as nice as it was to finally become “accepted” amongst the regulars in the game, it also had its downsides. It came at a time where I felt I had their games figured out a lot better than they had down mine, but every pot between us now turned into a friendly check, check, check unless someone hit it big.
I sat down on my last day in the must move 5/10. Honestly, my goal was to rack up a few more hours and try not to have a losing session. I was very content with the progress of my trip and how things were winding down. I was forced to change my strategy when my 100BB stack all of a sudden turned into 50BB right when I sat down. “Automatic straddle okay with you man”, asked a young internet kid at the table with most the chips. Ehh, why not. We played this way for about an hour until a few gentlemen sat down who were not completely comfortable with the structure. I managed to play a couple interesting spots. This one produced the most adrenaline.
3 limps and I’m in the BB with K
7. I complete and the straddle checks. 568 and I lead for 80. 2 calls and I lead for roughly pot (300) on a 10 turn. Only the straddle calls and I’m pretty certain by his body language that he’s on a pair + draw type hand. The turn is the Q and I need to make a decision. I’ve already gone against my plan to play tight for the day, so I can give up and stomach the loss, or go after those chips in the pot. **** checking, I’m all-in, 580. It takes about 10 seconds for him to fold. Phew. Without realizing it, I finally accomplished one of my goals on the last day, playing 10/20. Granted it was only 50BB deep, and unintentional, but still, I sat in a fairly large game, felt neither uncomfortable or unmatched, and left with a profit.
Moved to the main game, with no straddle, and I go hours fighting off terrible turn cards and inevitable coolers. One thing I’ve learned in my years of poker is no matter how well you think you’re playing, you can’t beat coolers and you can’t limit the scare cards.
My QQ gets cracked on a 3
34 flop against a tourist with 56. He tries to apologize, but it’s obviously unnecessary. Later on I have to fold my KK in an 800 dollar multi way pot on a 7 turn card after I’d bet pot on a 378 flop. Finally, I get a chance to make my money back. K
Q in the sb and I call a raise to 40 from the CO, as does the BB. We see a pretty safe flop of K65 and I call a continuation bet of 80. K turn and he bets 100 this time. I think about raising, but it doesn’t feel right. A 10 hits the river and now the guy fires 200. Well I can’t fold and I can’t raise, so I guess I call. 55. Wow. It’s gonna be one of those days, I think to myself. I rack up my chips, waiting for the BB to come so I can call it a day, a trip. However with 6 hands to calm down, I decide I'm not going to call it quits at 7pm on my last night.I start beating the gentleman who took me down with the 56 of diamonds pretty badly. He plays too many pots with too many marginal holdings. The final hand happens with his chips racked up and his wife waiting on the rail. I raise to 50 in MP with AK and he makes it 150. Another caller in the middle and I join the party. Flop K32 and I lead for 200. The original raiser calls and we see another K on the turn. This time I check and He fires 300. I call. River 4 and I announce all-in. He only has 550 left and confidently shoves them into the pot. Of course that confidence would’ve scared me coming from a regular, but this guy had no idea what a good hand is on that board. His QQ is a loser and now I’m back up for the day. 800 to be exact.
After that pot, either the table got softer, or I got more confident. I began raising about 1/3 of my hands and winning pots without much resistance. My final 5/10 pot of the trip came while getting a massage from the masseuse who jump-started my upswing with the Jude Law look-a-like comment. I flopped top-two, boated on the turn and busted a players’ rivered straight. Up 1600 for the day. **** yes. That’s how a trip should end.
As I’m racking up and about to leave the masseuse asks me what I’m doing for the night and I look at her confused. I always wrote off her flirting and compliments as attempts at better tips. You get very accustomed to that type of treatment after three weeks in this city. She tells me she’s going to a local bar with some friends and wants to know if I want to roll with when she gets off. I had a little bit of a Kindergarten crush on this girl all trip so I tell her that sounds fun.
Instead of leaving like I planned, I sit in the 2/5 game and start working on my buzz while she finishes up work. The table’s great. Everyone’s very friendly, but there’s still a considerable amount of action. As each of my vodka red bulsl goes bottoms-up, more and more people start entering my pots.
One hand I raise to 25 with 66 in mp and get 5 callers. 5
6Q on the flop. BINGO. I Bet out 65, short stack shoves for 200 and your standard 2/5 donkey over calls. I shove in for like 500 all day and this guy calls again. The turn brings the 7 and the river the 10. ****, I knew it was too good to be true. First guy flips over AQ, but I’m more interested in the big pot. Donkey looks at my 66 starts nodding and then begins to flip over his hand. No ****ing way, you are not going to slow roll me. Not like that. Q….. K. Jesus please don’t scare me like that. I start getting pretty drunk and go find my friend to see when she’s getting off. “Like 2” she says. ****, I can’t wait that late. I’ll never make my 9am flight. I tell her thanks, but I’m going to have to pass. We exchange numbers and I tell her I’ll call her next time I’m in town.
After another 700 dollar session and 2300 dollar day, my final total for the trip is roughly 9700 dollars. The walk from the poker room to the front door at the Bellagio is usually obnoxiously long. Today it seems far too short. Never in my poker career have I felt this satisfied. I’ve won online tournaments, bluffed Don Cheadle, and cleared out an entire table before. But something about setting out on a 3 week journey, amongst doubt from some family members, friends, and 2p2ers, only to prove that I can beat mid-stakes NL in Vegas fills my soul with joy.
Tomorrow I plan on writing a final recap of my trip, with my answers to everyone’s questions, my future plan/goals, and my opinions on everything that was my trip/Vegas. I want to say thanks to everyone who followed, as believe it or not having people holding me accountable not only motivated me to write every day, but also kept me playing my best poker.
Cheers and may all of you run like me one day,
Matt Moore
01-12-2010
, 11:20 PM
01-12-2010
, 11:49 PM
Kickass report matt (From another Matt). Fantastic adventure that you'll remember for the rest of your life. As a 33 year old who's had my share of random adventures, I'll tell you to keep on with this aspect of your life. It's easy to get into a rut and wake up one day having done nothing. Life experience trumps all. You sound like a great "kid" who's well on his way.
Oh.. and I woulda pulled an all nighter with the masseuse chick and just gone straight to the airport and slept on the plane
Oh.. and I woulda pulled an all nighter with the masseuse chick and just gone straight to the airport and slept on the plane
01-13-2010
, 01:03 AM
01-13-2010
, 01:22 AM
01-13-2010
, 06:05 AM
01-13-2010
, 08:41 AM
01-13-2010
, 12:04 PM
01-13-2010
, 12:54 PM
