March Madness 2017 TR, Jersey Boys Edition
03-16-2017
, 08:38 AM
03-16-2017
, 06:06 PM
03-16-2017
, 07:40 PM
03-16-2017
, 09:55 PM
03-18-2017
, 10:46 AM
03-18-2017
, 10:02 PM
Your avatar is ironic!
Live update! Heading to Picasso right now, Fallow deer or Wagyu short rib?
Live update! Heading to Picasso right now, Fallow deer or Wagyu short rib?
03-20-2017
, 08:49 AM
02-23-2018
, 02:17 PM
02-23-2018
, 03:38 PM
02-23-2018
, 05:32 PM
Maybe this will be easier for me to relate if I tell it the way I’ve told my trip reports in the past. Some of my memories are crystal clear; others are hazy at best. I wish I had photos.
I’ll try to break it down into easy-to-digest portions. None of this will be easy to explain.
Cliffs: Walls of text, with no pictures to break them up; McLovin is not McLovin; standard start in Vegas
It all starts out so well, so normally, no portents of the insanity to come. I’d escaped the freezing cold of New York for the balmy glory of Vegas. A heat wave had rolled in prior to our arrival and we were expecting temperatures in the high 80’s for the entire weekend. I arrive, check into Caesar’s and am happily surprised by the junior suite I get, just one room but big enough for 8 to chill in and watch games. I’d heard there were now sports betting apps available in the books. For some reason, Caesar’s, the largest casino chain in the world, doesn’t have one. I make a few bets for the next day while at Caesar’s, then stroll over to the Bellagio and wait for what seems an eternity setting up an account with MGM. After loading a stupid amount of money onto that, I manage to get a hold of McLovin. To my surprise, he is uninterested in gambling. He’d managed to fly cross country before realizing he was sick enough that he needed to check into a clinic for medical care. One would need to be nearly dead or desperately frightened by a condom malfunction during a tryst with a streetwalker to set foot into a Strip clinic.
Pixel: What’s your deal?
McLovin: Strep throat. Can’t drink. Did you get weed? Can we smoke some?
Pixel: You on antibiotics yet?
McLovin: C’mon, it’s fine, i took some antibiotics like an hour ago.
Pixel: Great. Take some more. See you tomorrow.
I walk from the Bellagio to Aria and sit immediately in a 1/2 PLO game. After securing the seat, I order my beloved iced watermelon juice and head outside to toke up some Sour D I’d brought from Dirty Jerz. My juice arrives just as I return to the table and the PLO begins. On my first hand, I flop nut straight, the board runs clean, and I get three streets of value from another tourist holding on for dear life with the idiot end. The runner hasn't even returned with my chips when I'm raking my first pot. Living the dream.
I’ve lost a little and am down to $330 when I am dealt 9
76
4 in the BB. The pot is limped 100 ways and we see a flop of 9
74
. I lead for pot and get folds until the button, who’s been super aggro as though he’s playing NLH, pots it. I decide, what the hell, it's unlikey he has a set and repot, putting him all in and figuring I’ll flip a coin against his combo draw. He groan calls and we see a 7 on the turn and 4 on the river. He mucks and wanders away when I show him my multiple boats. A new player takes his seat and sits with $300. I am on the button when he opens for $15. The cutoff calls and I call on the BTN with KK97. The blinds both call. The flop comes KA2. The small blind leads for $60 and the original raiser pots to $240. Neither of them has more than $300, so I repot. The small blind folds and the new guy calls off. Board comes rainbow rags, I show top set and the new guy sadly shows QJQx. I’m now up over 1k in less than 30 minutes at the table. Exhaustion and elation crash over me simultaneously and I realize that it’s past 5 AM to my body. I play another orbit and then cash out. My bed beckons.
Next: A sedate McLovin; the tournament begins; magic.
I’ll try to break it down into easy-to-digest portions. None of this will be easy to explain.
Cliffs: Walls of text, with no pictures to break them up; McLovin is not McLovin; standard start in Vegas
It all starts out so well, so normally, no portents of the insanity to come. I’d escaped the freezing cold of New York for the balmy glory of Vegas. A heat wave had rolled in prior to our arrival and we were expecting temperatures in the high 80’s for the entire weekend. I arrive, check into Caesar’s and am happily surprised by the junior suite I get, just one room but big enough for 8 to chill in and watch games. I’d heard there were now sports betting apps available in the books. For some reason, Caesar’s, the largest casino chain in the world, doesn’t have one. I make a few bets for the next day while at Caesar’s, then stroll over to the Bellagio and wait for what seems an eternity setting up an account with MGM. After loading a stupid amount of money onto that, I manage to get a hold of McLovin. To my surprise, he is uninterested in gambling. He’d managed to fly cross country before realizing he was sick enough that he needed to check into a clinic for medical care. One would need to be nearly dead or desperately frightened by a condom malfunction during a tryst with a streetwalker to set foot into a Strip clinic.
Pixel: What’s your deal?
McLovin: Strep throat. Can’t drink. Did you get weed? Can we smoke some?
Pixel: You on antibiotics yet?
McLovin: C’mon, it’s fine, i took some antibiotics like an hour ago.
Pixel: Great. Take some more. See you tomorrow.
I walk from the Bellagio to Aria and sit immediately in a 1/2 PLO game. After securing the seat, I order my beloved iced watermelon juice and head outside to toke up some Sour D I’d brought from Dirty Jerz. My juice arrives just as I return to the table and the PLO begins. On my first hand, I flop nut straight, the board runs clean, and I get three streets of value from another tourist holding on for dear life with the idiot end. The runner hasn't even returned with my chips when I'm raking my first pot. Living the dream.
I’ve lost a little and am down to $330 when I am dealt 9
764 in the BB. The pot is limped 100 ways and we see a flop of 974. I lead for pot and get folds until the button, who’s been super aggro as though he’s playing NLH, pots it. I decide, what the hell, it's unlikey he has a set and repot, putting him all in and figuring I’ll flip a coin against his combo draw. He groan calls and we see a 7 on the turn and 4 on the river. He mucks and wanders away when I show him my multiple boats. A new player takes his seat and sits with $300. I am on the button when he opens for $15. The cutoff calls and I call on the BTN with KK97. The blinds both call. The flop comes KA2. The small blind leads for $60 and the original raiser pots to $240. Neither of them has more than $300, so I repot. The small blind folds and the new guy calls off. Board comes rainbow rags, I show top set and the new guy sadly shows QJQx. I’m now up over 1k in less than 30 minutes at the table. Exhaustion and elation crash over me simultaneously and I realize that it’s past 5 AM to my body. I play another orbit and then cash out. My bed beckons.Next: A sedate McLovin; the tournament begins; magic.
