March Madness 2018 - TR III
03-21-2018
, 01:48 PM
03-21-2018
, 03:54 PM
Driving to Las Vegas in a car with adaptive cruise control is the nuts. I’ve never had a car with this feature until recently and wow does it make for way less fatigue! I recommend.
This year we dropped Darvin at the Venetian, he was rooming there with another friend. Phil and I were across the street at TI. Why?
**** the Venetian. For years this was our go-to resort for both accommodations and poker. The poker room rate was reasonable for a busy weekend, the resort fee was optional, and the poker room was fantastic with a huge spread of tables and a $4 max rake. They changed all of that. The resort fee is now enormous, mandatory, and the poker room sucks. More on that later.
TI is just a bed and a shower, but no resort fee and no poker rate and playing requirement, so we were free to play wherever we wanted. Phil and I agree that while nothing special, TI is now our hotel of choice for the poker bender: good location to poker rooms like Caesars and Wynn, free parking, and no surcharges.
We decide to walk over to Caesars for the first poker session. Phil jumps right into 2/5 and I sit down at 1/2. I’ve been dabbling in 2/5 for the past year, but I’m still most comfortable at 1/2 and 1/3.
My table is exactly what I hoped for. We’re all tourists and the only reg is a short-stacked lady who is talking non-stop about whether the current dealer is lucky or unlucky for her. There’s a German couple at the table sitting beside each other. I’m watching them closely and notice that she touches her boyfriend’s leg sometimes right after the flop. It looks suspicious until I see her make a horrible call on the river with TPNK when her opponent obviously has a huge hand. While boyfriend seems competent, she’s just there to lose chips and feel him up under the table. I think the loss in chips is worth it for him.
Phil has taught me that a key trick to poker is putting your opponents in uncomfortable situations. So my opening bet sizes have gotten larger as a result. While most people seem to be opening $7-10, I open UTG to $12 with 9
9
. Phil says $15 would be better at a weak table of 1/2, especially out of position, but I’m not ready for that yet. Two callers, including OMC on my right in the BB with $150 behind.
Flop ($36): T
3
3
OMC checks, this is a pretty dry flop and I’m almost always ahead of everything either player has. I bet $25. Middle position folds and OMC calls. Oops, he probably has a Ten. I’m pretty much done with the hand unless he checks it down.
Turn: ($86) 9 in my head I hear a little “bink!” noise and I am happy. OMC bets $50 and only has another $75-ish behind. He has AT, A3, maybe a weirdly played JJ? Who cares?! I ship it in.
OMC *snap* calls and I have that moment of dread where I know it’s coming. He turns over TT and I lose set-over-set (or is that boat-over-boat?) for $150. I text Phil and he says I suck at hitting quads on the river.
After a couple hours I crawl my way back a bit and am only stuck $50. Darvin is at the Venetian and Phil and I rack up and walk over for another poker session before dinner.
I will now rant about exactly why the Venetian sucks: it’s become just another poker room with large rake, stupid promos, inattentive staff, and an all-around negative ambience.
I get seated a table and there aren’t any chips. Not because the players are buying in short, but because the Venetian only has like one chip runner and the room is packed. Players buy in from the dealer and are sitting on these tiny stacks of green chips, black chips, with a smattering of $5 and $1 chips. The dealer has been asking for a fill the entire time I’ve been sitting, and his rack is nearly empty.
Sure, the chip denominations shouldn’t matter, but they do. Recreational players are often reluctant to part with their green and black chips, and the game just feels anemic. They’re raking up to $6 now, too. I’m winning some small pots, but no big hands to note.
A new dealer comes in and soon we’re flat out of small chips. There are NO $1 chips on the table because they’ve all been raked. The dealer shouts for floor and one comes over:
Dealer: “I’m out of white. I can’t take the rake. I need a chip runner and a fill.”
Floor: “Nothin’ I can do about it.”
WTF? You’d think they’d come sprinting over with a chip runner if they can’t take a rake! Floor man speaks into his microphone for a chip runner for table 4 but it doesn’t happen. So we play poker with the chips we have and there’s no rake on any pot under $50! I’ve come full circle and decide that the V is so bad that it’s starting to be good! No rake? I’d consider licking my chips if it meant no rake!
I think I made an extra $15 during that time just by stepping up the aggression a bit to pocket the no-rake. I suppose I should play like that all the time?
Eventually a chip runner comes and fills the tray with $1 chips, but it’s time to rack up for dinner. I leave with a $100 profit for the session so I’m closing the day with a very modest gain.
Day 1 total: +$50
Spoiler alert! next up: day 2 gets better with much more interesting hands and some nice instant-karma vs a poker douchebag.
This year we dropped Darvin at the Venetian, he was rooming there with another friend. Phil and I were across the street at TI. Why?
**** the Venetian. For years this was our go-to resort for both accommodations and poker. The poker room rate was reasonable for a busy weekend, the resort fee was optional, and the poker room was fantastic with a huge spread of tables and a $4 max rake. They changed all of that. The resort fee is now enormous, mandatory, and the poker room sucks. More on that later.
TI is just a bed and a shower, but no resort fee and no poker rate and playing requirement, so we were free to play wherever we wanted. Phil and I agree that while nothing special, TI is now our hotel of choice for the poker bender: good location to poker rooms like Caesars and Wynn, free parking, and no surcharges.
We decide to walk over to Caesars for the first poker session. Phil jumps right into 2/5 and I sit down at 1/2. I’ve been dabbling in 2/5 for the past year, but I’m still most comfortable at 1/2 and 1/3.
My table is exactly what I hoped for. We’re all tourists and the only reg is a short-stacked lady who is talking non-stop about whether the current dealer is lucky or unlucky for her. There’s a German couple at the table sitting beside each other. I’m watching them closely and notice that she touches her boyfriend’s leg sometimes right after the flop. It looks suspicious until I see her make a horrible call on the river with TPNK when her opponent obviously has a huge hand. While boyfriend seems competent, she’s just there to lose chips and feel him up under the table. I think the loss in chips is worth it for him.
Phil has taught me that a key trick to poker is putting your opponents in uncomfortable situations. So my opening bet sizes have gotten larger as a result. While most people seem to be opening $7-10, I open UTG to $12 with 9
9. Phil says $15 would be better at a weak table of 1/2, especially out of position, but I’m not ready for that yet. Two callers, including OMC on my right in the BB with $150 behind.Flop ($36): T
33OMC checks, this is a pretty dry flop and I’m almost always ahead of everything either player has. I bet $25. Middle position folds and OMC calls. Oops, he probably has a Ten. I’m pretty much done with the hand unless he checks it down.
Turn: ($86) 9
in my head I hear a little “bink!” noise and I am happy. OMC bets $50 and only has another $75-ish behind. He has AT, A3, maybe a weirdly played JJ? Who cares?! I ship it in.OMC *snap* calls and I have that moment of dread where I know it’s coming. He turns over TT and I lose set-over-set (or is that boat-over-boat?) for $150. I text Phil and he says I suck at hitting quads on the river.
After a couple hours I crawl my way back a bit and am only stuck $50. Darvin is at the Venetian and Phil and I rack up and walk over for another poker session before dinner.
I will now rant about exactly why the Venetian sucks: it’s become just another poker room with large rake, stupid promos, inattentive staff, and an all-around negative ambience.
I get seated a table and there aren’t any chips. Not because the players are buying in short, but because the Venetian only has like one chip runner and the room is packed. Players buy in from the dealer and are sitting on these tiny stacks of green chips, black chips, with a smattering of $5 and $1 chips. The dealer has been asking for a fill the entire time I’ve been sitting, and his rack is nearly empty.
Sure, the chip denominations shouldn’t matter, but they do. Recreational players are often reluctant to part with their green and black chips, and the game just feels anemic. They’re raking up to $6 now, too. I’m winning some small pots, but no big hands to note.
A new dealer comes in and soon we’re flat out of small chips. There are NO $1 chips on the table because they’ve all been raked. The dealer shouts for floor and one comes over:
Dealer: “I’m out of white. I can’t take the rake. I need a chip runner and a fill.”
Floor: “Nothin’ I can do about it.”
WTF? You’d think they’d come sprinting over with a chip runner if they can’t take a rake! Floor man speaks into his microphone for a chip runner for table 4 but it doesn’t happen. So we play poker with the chips we have and there’s no rake on any pot under $50! I’ve come full circle and decide that the V is so bad that it’s starting to be good! No rake? I’d consider licking my chips if it meant no rake!
I think I made an extra $15 during that time just by stepping up the aggression a bit to pocket the no-rake. I suppose I should play like that all the time?
Eventually a chip runner comes and fills the tray with $1 chips, but it’s time to rack up for dinner. I leave with a $100 profit for the session so I’m closing the day with a very modest gain.
Day 1 total: +$50
Spoiler alert! next up: day 2 gets better with much more interesting hands and some nice instant-karma vs a poker douchebag.
03-21-2018
, 04:39 PM
03-22-2018
, 12:24 PM
I get a good night’s sleep and head over to the Wynn/Encore for the first session of the day. Based on my small sample size of only playing at the Wynn during March Madness, this place is da bomb. It’s a gorgeous room.
They spread a 1/3NL game with a $500 max buy-in. This is a perfect game. It’s bigger than the $300 games I’m used to but smaller than the $1000-1500 2/5 games that are right on the edge of scared money for me. I felt super comfortable at Wynn 1/3. The massage girls and drink service are a nice distraction, too.
I get seated quickly, seat 8, and take stock of my opponents. My neighbor to the left is a chatty old local who folds too much, let’s call him Frank. Darvin gets seated to my right in seat 7.
Seat 5 is a complete tool. He’s around 30 years old, looks like a young trucker with the oversized ball cap and beard, and is talking smack non-stop. His patter is a combination of goading other players, commentary on every action, mixed with declarations of his poker prowess. We will call him “Tim Taylor”.
The only real problem with the persona Tim is trying to project is his short stack of $100. To give him credit, he’s not playing a completely poor short stack game. He’s often shipping it in pre-flop or flop and forcing the rest of us to adjust accordingly. He shoves pre once again and shows K9 after everyone folds. “See, I had a hand! Maybe I’ll have something better next time?”
Tim limp-folds whenever he isn’t shipping, though, so it’s just a matter of time. He dwindles down to about $50 and then this hand happens:
I open to $15 in MP with KJ. Tim calls in the blinds (mistake, it’s like a third of his stack) and we’re heads up to a flop:
Flop ($30): QJ5 He checks. It’s a bit odd for him to check because he’s so trigger happy. But I don’t care because I have middle pair, he has any two cards, there’s $30 in the pot and he only has $40 left behind. I ship it in.
Tim says, “Hmmm. I wonder what I should do?” He flips over A4 for the nuts. “Do you think I should call?”
The dealer waits patiently because Tim hasn’t formally acted. “Yeah, I guess I call!”
“Wow, nice hand,” I say. “I’m drawing dead!” I shake my head. At least it’s only $40. “Um, well, technically I could go runner-runner full house,” I laugh to the table.
The dealer turns the K. “There’s one!” I say.
The river is the J “I got it!” I say.
“You got it?” Tim says incredulously. I flip over my full house. (I ran the numbers later and I was 2.8% to win the hand.)
The table goes NUTS. Darvin whispers to me, “That was awesome! That guy is such a douchebag!”
It’s quite possibly my favorite hand ever, even though it was a tiny pot and I got my money in bad. I can’t give justice to describing how unbelievably annoying Tim has been at this table.
He buys in again for $100 and starts playing a bit more snug. Not as much pre-flop shipping, but he’s still commenting on every hand and telling everyone how they should have played their hands.
Meanwhile, I go on a rampage of rungood. I’m hitting hands, betting big, getting folds when I want, getting calls when I want. I flop quads on a 66KK2 board and get action on the flop and turn. Does he have a K? I ship the river and he folds, oh well. I hit the nut flush on a paired board and my v-bet wins. I look aggressive and am the new table captain. My stack grows:
I make what I think is a mistake. I raise yet again on the button $15 with 99 and the BB finally makes a stand and 3-bets me to $60. He’s $600 deep and hasn’t gotten out of line yet. I think about what I’m going to do on the flop and decide instead to fold pre-flop with 99 in this spot. Phil says it’s a dumb mistake and I can’t disagree. My nitty tendencies are hard to suppress.
Tim keeps peeling off $100 bills and buying in short, losing, and buying in again. I almost start to feel bad for him be he just will not STFU and continues to needle everyone at the table, especially me.
He’s UTG with $100 behind and announces during the deal, just as I’m getting my second card, “I’m playing this hand blind!” Now I know this is almost always an angle and I chide myself for not watching the deal to see if he really looked or not. Tim opens to $15 “blind” and lets us know once again that he hasn’t looked.
Folds to me and I have 97 and make the call -- probably a mistake given his short stack but I'm hoping for more callers. Old man Frank ($150) on my left is the only other caller.
Flop: $45 Q74 Tim bets $20 and says, “That probably hit me!”
We aren’t heads up and the table talk is once again inappropriate. Still, I really don’t have much of a decision with middle pair and a flush draw against two shorties. Frank is projecting a fold. Tim started the hand with just $100, so I announce, “All in.” The dealer tosses the all-in button in front of me.
Frank insta-folds. Tim starts up the chatter again: “Hmmm, I wonder what I have?”
He flips over AA
“I think you probably looked,” I say. He smiles and shrugs.
“Hmmm, I wonder what I should do?” Tim starts his routine again with that dripping Malfoy voice. The dealer is waiting. “What do you think? I guess I should call!”
The dealer asks for clarification and Tim finally calls.
The turn is a blank and the river is the 5.
I flip over my hand without saying a word.
Darvin can’t contain his excitement. Tim looks like I punched him in the balls. He’s felted and gets up to leave without saying a word. Old Frank says to Tim, “Wow, you even had the Ace of clubs.”
Sometimes poker is awesome like that.
I cash out of the Wynn with a $700 profit and take a long walk over to Planet Hollywood for a late lunch and another poker session. Phil has been adamant about the importance of only playing an “A” game, which means paying attention to every hand even when you’re not in the pot, taking regular breaks, getting enough sleep, and getting some exercise. Darvin joins me for the walk and we talk about a lot of hands. Phil is in love with the Wynn poker room and decides to stay. He’s up $900 for the session so far and is crushing his table.
Once again Earl of Sandwich at PH gets a +1 recommendation from me. Everything they have there is good. I go for the Turkey Cranberry holiday sandwich that always comes with a side of rungood. Sure, you have play smart poker and catch some hands, but I think a good sandwich helps. My day continues to not suck. One hand to share from PH:
I open to $12 with TT I get a couple callers.
Flop: $36 K:T9
Bing! But it’s a super wet board and I cannot slow down. I bet pot $36. One caller.
Turn: $103 is a brick, 3. My opponent only has about. $200 left behind. I bet $100. He thinks and thinks and thinks and calls.
River $300 is a weird card, Q
I’m having trouble putting villain on a hand other than an overplayed AK. I think would have heard from KT or K9 by now, and I’m crushing those anyway. Any Jack makes a straight, but I cannot think of any hand this guy has with a Jack other than KJ, and I just can’t worry about that one holding given the size of the pot. I’m hoping he has KQ and can’t get away. My hand looks SUPER strong, but this is PH and players just aren’t thinking about that too much.
I’ve sized my bets so that I have no choice now but to go all in for his last $100 and hope he has KQ or AK.
He tanks and tanks and tanks and finally makes the call with . . . a set of nines! I guess this makes up for yesterday’s set-over-set loss. How did we not get it all in on the flop?
PH session: +553
Day 2 subtotal: +$1253
Trip subtotal: $+1303
Next up: an interlude, where our hero plays tired, poorly, and has his ass handed to him.
They spread a 1/3NL game with a $500 max buy-in. This is a perfect game. It’s bigger than the $300 games I’m used to but smaller than the $1000-1500 2/5 games that are right on the edge of scared money for me. I felt super comfortable at Wynn 1/3. The massage girls and drink service are a nice distraction, too.
I get seated quickly, seat 8, and take stock of my opponents. My neighbor to the left is a chatty old local who folds too much, let’s call him Frank. Darvin gets seated to my right in seat 7.
Seat 5 is a complete tool. He’s around 30 years old, looks like a young trucker with the oversized ball cap and beard, and is talking smack non-stop. His patter is a combination of goading other players, commentary on every action, mixed with declarations of his poker prowess. We will call him “Tim Taylor”.
The only real problem with the persona Tim is trying to project is his short stack of $100. To give him credit, he’s not playing a completely poor short stack game. He’s often shipping it in pre-flop or flop and forcing the rest of us to adjust accordingly. He shoves pre once again and shows K
9 after everyone folds. “See, I had a hand! Maybe I’ll have something better next time?”Tim limp-folds whenever he isn’t shipping, though, so it’s just a matter of time. He dwindles down to about $50 and then this hand happens:
I open to $15 in MP with K
J. Tim calls in the blinds (mistake, it’s like a third of his stack) and we’re heads up to a flop:Flop ($30): Q
J5 He checks. It’s a bit odd for him to check because he’s so trigger happy. But I don’t care because I have middle pair, he has any two cards, there’s $30 in the pot and he only has $40 left behind. I ship it in.Tim says, “Hmmm. I wonder what I should do?” He flips over A
4 for the nuts. “Do you think I should call?”The dealer waits patiently because Tim hasn’t formally acted. “Yeah, I guess I call!”
“Wow, nice hand,” I say. “I’m drawing dead!” I shake my head. At least it’s only $40. “Um, well, technically I could go runner-runner full house,” I laugh to the table.
The dealer turns the K
. “There’s one!” I say.The river is the J
“I got it!” I say.“You got it?” Tim says incredulously. I flip over my full house. (I ran the numbers later and I was 2.8% to win the hand.)
The table goes NUTS. Darvin whispers to me, “That was awesome! That guy is such a douchebag!”
It’s quite possibly my favorite hand ever, even though it was a tiny pot and I got my money in bad. I can’t give justice to describing how unbelievably annoying Tim has been at this table.
He buys in again for $100 and starts playing a bit more snug. Not as much pre-flop shipping, but he’s still commenting on every hand and telling everyone how they should have played their hands.
Meanwhile, I go on a rampage of rungood. I’m hitting hands, betting big, getting folds when I want, getting calls when I want. I flop quads on a 66KK2 board and get action on the flop and turn. Does he have a K? I ship the river and he folds, oh well. I hit the nut flush on a paired board and my v-bet wins. I look aggressive and am the new table captain. My stack grows:
I make what I think is a mistake. I raise yet again on the button $15 with 99 and the BB finally makes a stand and 3-bets me to $60. He’s $600 deep and hasn’t gotten out of line yet. I think about what I’m going to do on the flop and decide instead to fold pre-flop with 99 in this spot. Phil says it’s a dumb mistake and I can’t disagree. My nitty tendencies are hard to suppress.
Tim keeps peeling off $100 bills and buying in short, losing, and buying in again. I almost start to feel bad for him be he just will not STFU and continues to needle everyone at the table, especially me.
He’s UTG with $100 behind and announces during the deal, just as I’m getting my second card, “I’m playing this hand blind!” Now I know this is almost always an angle and I chide myself for not watching the deal to see if he really looked or not. Tim opens to $15 “blind” and lets us know once again that he hasn’t looked.
Folds to me and I have 9
7 and make the call -- probably a mistake given his short stack but I'm hoping for more callers. Old man Frank ($150) on my left is the only other caller.Flop: $45 Q
74 Tim bets $20 and says, “That probably hit me!”We aren’t heads up and the table talk is once again inappropriate. Still, I really don’t have much of a decision with middle pair and a flush draw against two shorties. Frank is projecting a fold. Tim started the hand with just $100, so I announce, “All in.” The dealer tosses the all-in button in front of me.
Frank insta-folds. Tim starts up the chatter again: “Hmmm, I wonder what I have?”
He flips over A
A“I think you probably looked,” I say. He smiles and shrugs.
“Hmmm, I wonder what I should do?” Tim starts his routine again with that dripping Malfoy voice. The dealer is waiting. “What do you think? I guess I should call!”
The dealer asks for clarification and Tim finally calls.
The turn is a blank and the river is the 5
.I flip over my hand without saying a word.
Darvin can’t contain his excitement. Tim looks like I punched him in the balls. He’s felted and gets up to leave without saying a word. Old Frank says to Tim, “Wow, you even had the Ace of clubs.”
Sometimes poker is awesome like that.
I cash out of the Wynn with a $700 profit and take a long walk over to Planet Hollywood for a late lunch and another poker session. Phil has been adamant about the importance of only playing an “A” game, which means paying attention to every hand even when you’re not in the pot, taking regular breaks, getting enough sleep, and getting some exercise. Darvin joins me for the walk and we talk about a lot of hands. Phil is in love with the Wynn poker room and decides to stay. He’s up $900 for the session so far and is crushing his table.
Once again Earl of Sandwich at PH gets a +1 recommendation from me. Everything they have there is good. I go for the Turkey Cranberry holiday sandwich that always comes with a side of rungood. Sure, you have play smart poker and catch some hands, but I think a good sandwich helps. My day continues to not suck. One hand to share from PH:
I open to $12 with T
T I get a couple callers.Flop: $36 K
:T9Bing! But it’s a super wet board and I cannot slow down. I bet pot $36. One caller.
Turn: $103 is a brick, 3
. My opponent only has about. $200 left behind. I bet $100. He thinks and thinks and thinks and calls.River $300 is a weird card, Q
I’m having trouble putting villain on a hand other than an overplayed AK. I think would have heard from KT or K9 by now, and I’m crushing those anyway. Any Jack makes a straight, but I cannot think of any hand this guy has with a Jack other than KJ, and I just can’t worry about that one holding given the size of the pot. I’m hoping he has KQ and can’t get away. My hand looks SUPER strong, but this is PH and players just aren’t thinking about that too much.
I’ve sized my bets so that I have no choice now but to go all in for his last $100 and hope he has KQ or AK.
He tanks and tanks and tanks and finally makes the call with . . . a set of nines! I guess this makes up for yesterday’s set-over-set loss. How did we not get it all in on the flop?
PH session: +553
Day 2 subtotal: +$1253
Trip subtotal: $+1303
Next up: an interlude, where our hero plays tired, poorly, and has his ass handed to him.
03-22-2018
, 12:45 PM
03-22-2018
, 03:14 PM
03-23-2018
, 11:50 AM
It’s way more fun to type up hands where I’m making soul reads, winning pots, and scooping up chips. Phil has been coaching me on the importance of following the rules, and when I break them, I suffer the consequences.
For example, here’s a puzzle for you:
Phil is watching Darvin play $1/3 at the Wynn but cannot see his cards. $400 deep, folds to the button who opens for $15. Darvin calls in the BB.
Flop is KQ5. Darvin checks. Button checks.
Turn is 7. Darvin checks. Button checks.
River is 8. Darvin checks. Button wins with Ace-high.
Phil leans down and says to Phil, after the hand is over, “You had XX?”
Darvin stares in disbelief and exclaims in awe: “STOP ****ING READING MY MIND!”
Can you figure out what Darvin had? I wasn’t good enough to figure it out, but Phil’s logic is impeccable and makes total sense once he explains it. You sort of have to know that Darvin, while bad at poker, is a bit of a wet noodle player, knew that Phil was watching him, and was thus trying to play the hand as correctly as possible, so there’s some hints. Phil and I know Darvin’s range tendencies, too, so I think a handicap is reasonable: If you make 3 guesses and one of them is correct, consider yourself a supreme soul-reader worthy of Phil’s approval.
When I’m playing my A game, I’m striving to be at that level: paying attention even when I’m not in the hand, not letting anything go past me, staying in the zone. It’s mentally draining and exhilarating all at the same time.
Anyway, after dinner on Day 2 we’re at Mandalay Bay. It’s late, I’ve had a couple beers, and decide to play the 1/2 game there. The table is full of drunks. Like so drunk they cannot even see straight and are fumbling cards and drinks and chips and it should be awesome but I’m in no position to play my A game.
I fail to get max value with A3 when I flop the NFD but turn an even more lucrative wheel vs two pair. I’m raising too many speculative hands. I’m not watching villains closely enough. I dwindle down, top off a bit, play too many hands, and am eventually in for $450 but sitting on only $250 when this disaster happens:
Drunk guy on my right is out of his gourd. He’s slurring words and can barely read the board. He plays every hand, bets every flop, and folds to a raise on the flop or will check the turn and then fold to any turn bet. He keeps peeling off bills to reload. I can’t bring myself to type up the full hand history, but I have 85, three-bet preflop, and flop an OESD on a 367 board.
Drunk guy bets, as he always does. I raise. He calls. Turn: another 3.
He checks. I bet. He calls.
River bricks and he checks. I missed my draws and should have noticed his turn call as unusual given EVERY OTHER SINGLE HAND he’s played. Still, I stupidly talk myself into a 3-barrel bluff and shove all-in and get snapped off by 34. I deserved to lose every cent. I make the walk of shame past the cashier and Uber back to my hotel.
Session: -$450
Day 2 subtotal: $803
Trip subtotal: $853
Next up: Day 3, where I pull my head out of my ass
For example, here’s a puzzle for you:
Phil is watching Darvin play $1/3 at the Wynn but cannot see his cards. $400 deep, folds to the button who opens for $15. Darvin calls in the BB.
Flop is K
Q5. Darvin checks. Button checks.Turn is 7
. Darvin checks. Button checks.River is 8
. Darvin checks. Button wins with Ace-high.Phil leans down and says to Phil, after the hand is over, “You had XX?”
Darvin stares in disbelief and exclaims in awe: “STOP ****ING READING MY MIND!”
Can you figure out what Darvin had? I wasn’t good enough to figure it out, but Phil’s logic is impeccable and makes total sense once he explains it. You sort of have to know that Darvin, while bad at poker, is a bit of a wet noodle player, knew that Phil was watching him, and was thus trying to play the hand as correctly as possible, so there’s some hints. Phil and I know Darvin’s range tendencies, too, so I think a handicap is reasonable: If you make 3 guesses and one of them is correct, consider yourself a supreme soul-reader worthy of Phil’s approval.
When I’m playing my A game, I’m striving to be at that level: paying attention even when I’m not in the hand, not letting anything go past me, staying in the zone. It’s mentally draining and exhilarating all at the same time.
Anyway, after dinner on Day 2 we’re at Mandalay Bay. It’s late, I’ve had a couple beers, and decide to play the 1/2 game there. The table is full of drunks. Like so drunk they cannot even see straight and are fumbling cards and drinks and chips and it should be awesome but I’m in no position to play my A game.
I fail to get max value with A
3 when I flop the NFD but turn an even more lucrative wheel vs two pair. I’m raising too many speculative hands. I’m not watching villains closely enough. I dwindle down, top off a bit, play too many hands, and am eventually in for $450 but sitting on only $250 when this disaster happens:Drunk guy on my right is out of his gourd. He’s slurring words and can barely read the board. He plays every hand, bets every flop, and folds to a raise on the flop or will check the turn and then fold to any turn bet. He keeps peeling off bills to reload. I can’t bring myself to type up the full hand history, but I have 8
5, three-bet preflop, and flop an OESD on a 367 board.Drunk guy bets, as he always does. I raise. He calls. Turn: another 3.
He checks. I bet. He calls.
River bricks and he checks. I missed my draws and should have noticed his turn call as unusual given EVERY OTHER SINGLE HAND he’s played. Still, I stupidly talk myself into a 3-barrel bluff and shove all-in and get snapped off by 3
4. I deserved to lose every cent. I make the walk of shame past the cashier and Uber back to my hotel.Session: -$450
Day 2 subtotal: $803
Trip subtotal: $853
Next up: Day 3, where I pull my head out of my ass
03-23-2018
, 12:11 PM
03-25-2018
, 12:19 AM
03-25-2018
, 12:26 AM
I get a good night’s sleep and ponder the mistakes of the past. Phil has a good way of looking at it: “Think of all the money you’re going to save by NEVER DOING THAT AGAIN.” The words are encouraging but there’s a tinge of nut punch in his delivery.
I start the day with a morning run along the strip. Running is my thing, been doing it for years now, and a great way to clear my head. The weather is perfect, around 56F, and the strip is only half-crowded this early on such a busy weekend. I wind my way up and down the crosswalks and pedestrian bridges from TI all the way down to the Four Seasons, cross the street, and run back. It’s about 6 miles round trip. An Australian couple is standing on one of the bridges taking photos of each other.
“Would you like me to take one of you together?"
They’re super appreciative and hand me their phone. “Do you want Treasure Island in the background or Trump Tower?” You can guess which one they chose. Sigh.
I shower and change and it’s off to Bally’s for another session and another venue. Phil is stuck at the Wynn and can’t bring himself to leave. Darvin has to put in some hours at the Venetian to clear the poker rate, so I’m on my own.
Bally’s is another one of my favorite poker rooms and I always seem to have a good session there. It’s really kind of a ****hole. The chips are the dirtiest in Las Vegas, the smoke drifts in from everywhere, the noise is incessant, but the players are all tourists. Regs can’t stand the place. Why play in a ****hole every day when you have endless choice of nice poker rooms?
I’ve never seen a guy get booted before, but there’s a first time for everything! Just as I’m sitting down and unracking chips, the dealer goes nuts and starts talking severely to seat 7:
“Sir, you CANNOT talk to me like that. I’ve been dealing here for years and that behavior is NOT allowed!”
Seat 7 is a grumpy old fart and says, “I didn’t say anything!”
Dealer makes it clear that seat 7 calling him an “f-in dealer”.
Seat 7 replies, “I didn’t call you a ****ing dealer! I never said ****ing dealer! I said FREAKING dealer!”
Dealer immediately shouts, “FLOOR!”
The floor comes instantly. Dealer whispers to him. Floor starts to reply but Old Man shouts, “I called him a FREAKING dealer! A FREAKING dealer!”
He seems to think that it’s ok to insult the “freaking” dealer as long as you don’t call him a “****ing” dealer. The situation is comical. He must have said “freaking dealer” 20 times in 60 seconds.
Floor pulls him aside. They have a short discussion, more “freaking” is heard and very soon the old guy racks up and leaves while security watches. Welcome to Bally’s!
I hit quad Aces. It’s a small pot, and I only have one in my hand so no bonus. Very next hand I stack the guy on my left when I turn broadway, lead out, and snap-call his shove. He doesn’t show but the river is a brick. He gets up angrily, yells at the dealer for missing his draw, and leaves the room before he can be reminded what happened to the last guy to yell at a dealer.
There’s something about getting berated by other players that makes winning even more fun:
I’m on the button and there’s a few $2 limpers. I have 67o and make the call. I don’t like limping at all, it’s not really in my repertoire, but folding and raising seem worse in this spot.
The BB pops it to $10. As expected, everyone calls, but this is exactly why I hate limping, and we’re 6 players to a flop:
Flop $55 A34
The SB to my left is busy ordering a prostitute on his phone and isn’t paying attention to the hand. He checks. The BB bets $10. Everyone calls!
There’s $95 in the pot and I have a gutter to the supernuts. I make the tiny call. The SB calls, too, and shows me the text message to his hooker, “What are donations?” I’m learning the lingo!
Turn: $115 2 SB checks, BB checks, the next player bets just $15 and the players behind him call.
I’m sad that I’m pissing away another $15 now on this hand chasing a gutterball, but I must call and hope that everyone else calls. The BB thinks and think and thinks and eventually closes the action with a $15 call. We’re all still in the pot.
River: $205 5
Bink! There is a wheel on board and I have the stone cold 7-card nut straight. My only thought is how to get max value out of this hand. It checks around to me. Players have everything from $75-300 behind and I have them all covered.
What do you bet? I wanted to make it look like I was trying to fold out some of the chops and shoving seems too big. And if anyone else has a 6, I would have heard by now so I’m more interested in keeping anyone who wants stay in the chop. I really don’t know what the right amount is here. $20 they all call, but maybe $100 gets two callers so $100 is better? In hindsight I think $45-50 would have been much, much better and made more money.
Anyway, I decide on an amount and slide out $100 into a $200 pot. Everyone grumbles audibly. I stay still and try to fly casual.
The BB hems and haws and hems and haws and finally makes the call. Sadly, everyone else folds.
I turn over my hand and he goes ape****! “How the **** do you stay in there with that?! Nice hind, dude. Keep playing that way, man. I hope you enjoy the money.”
He had exactly $101 left and the dealer tosses him back his last chip. Darvin taps me on the shoulder. I hadn’t even noticed his arrival – he got there just as the hand was ending and saw my final bet.
“That was awesome!” Darvin says. The BB is still right there but Darvin is oblivious to the daggers coming out of his eyes. Let us all think a few moments on how poorly the BB played his hand when I tell you he had 44 and flopped middle set.
We meet up for dinner on our last night. Phil has cleaned up and has close to $3k in winnings. Darvin, as expected, has been completely roasted and is down more than he cares to share. I estimate he lost $1500-2000. He is introspective and angry with himself over a big pot he lost on his very last UTG hand:
Darvin has AA and is $1100 deep at 1/3. He opens to $15. Maniac LAG ($700) pops it to $45 and the button ($400) overcalls. Darvin 4-bets to . . . $115.
Yeah, way too small. So you can imagine what happens from there. They both call because Darvin has given them odds to call with any holding they can possibly have. Flop is 559 and Darvin open ships into LAG’s A5, and button folds KK face up. I have flashbacks to my Aria 2/5 hand from last year. Have we all had to learn this one the hard way?
We have this thing where when Darvin asks about help with a hand analysis, he goes over it with Phil and me separately to see if we have any consensus or disagreement on how the could have been played. Darvin says, “How much do you think I should have 4-bet?”
I think out loud: “Well, you’ve got two players left behind. The big stack still has $650 left and there’s $100 in the pot already. I want the LAG to have to put in another $150-200 to call, so maybe raise to around $225? Then he’d have to put in another $180 and you’ll only have a pot size bet left in his stack on the flop, especially if the button calls, too. You’re going for no more decisions left to make on the hand. You just ship it in on any flop if they call, and hopefully one of them has KK or QQ, can’t get away, and you win a big pot? Maybe 250 or 200 is ok, but I think it needs to start with a “2”. Sure, they both fold most of the time and you win $90, but that’s ok, too. Ok, final answer, $225!”
Phil: “That’s EXACTLY what I said!”
See? I’m learning! Thanks for reading!
Session total: +$257
Trip total: +$1110
I start the day with a morning run along the strip. Running is my thing, been doing it for years now, and a great way to clear my head. The weather is perfect, around 56F, and the strip is only half-crowded this early on such a busy weekend. I wind my way up and down the crosswalks and pedestrian bridges from TI all the way down to the Four Seasons, cross the street, and run back. It’s about 6 miles round trip. An Australian couple is standing on one of the bridges taking photos of each other.
“Would you like me to take one of you together?"
They’re super appreciative and hand me their phone. “Do you want Treasure Island in the background or Trump Tower?” You can guess which one they chose. Sigh.
I shower and change and it’s off to Bally’s for another session and another venue. Phil is stuck at the Wynn and can’t bring himself to leave. Darvin has to put in some hours at the Venetian to clear the poker rate, so I’m on my own.
Bally’s is another one of my favorite poker rooms and I always seem to have a good session there. It’s really kind of a ****hole. The chips are the dirtiest in Las Vegas, the smoke drifts in from everywhere, the noise is incessant, but the players are all tourists. Regs can’t stand the place. Why play in a ****hole every day when you have endless choice of nice poker rooms?
I’ve never seen a guy get booted before, but there’s a first time for everything! Just as I’m sitting down and unracking chips, the dealer goes nuts and starts talking severely to seat 7:
“Sir, you CANNOT talk to me like that. I’ve been dealing here for years and that behavior is NOT allowed!”
Seat 7 is a grumpy old fart and says, “I didn’t say anything!”
Dealer makes it clear that seat 7 calling him an “f-in dealer”.
Seat 7 replies, “I didn’t call you a ****ing dealer! I never said ****ing dealer! I said FREAKING dealer!”
Dealer immediately shouts, “FLOOR!”
The floor comes instantly. Dealer whispers to him. Floor starts to reply but Old Man shouts, “I called him a FREAKING dealer! A FREAKING dealer!”
He seems to think that it’s ok to insult the “freaking” dealer as long as you don’t call him a “****ing” dealer. The situation is comical. He must have said “freaking dealer” 20 times in 60 seconds.
Floor pulls him aside. They have a short discussion, more “freaking” is heard and very soon the old guy racks up and leaves while security watches. Welcome to Bally’s!
I hit quad Aces. It’s a small pot, and I only have one in my hand so no bonus. Very next hand I stack the guy on my left when I turn broadway, lead out, and snap-call his shove. He doesn’t show but the river is a brick. He gets up angrily, yells at the dealer for missing his draw, and leaves the room before he can be reminded what happened to the last guy to yell at a dealer.
There’s something about getting berated by other players that makes winning even more fun:
I’m on the button and there’s a few $2 limpers. I have 67o and make the call. I don’t like limping at all, it’s not really in my repertoire, but folding and raising seem worse in this spot.
The BB pops it to $10. As expected, everyone calls, but this is exactly why I hate limping, and we’re 6 players to a flop:
Flop $55 A
34The SB to my left is busy ordering a prostitute on his phone and isn’t paying attention to the hand. He checks. The BB bets $10. Everyone calls!
There’s $95 in the pot and I have a gutter to the supernuts. I make the tiny call. The SB calls, too, and shows me the text message to his hooker, “What are donations?” I’m learning the lingo!
Turn: $115 2
SB checks, BB checks, the next player bets just $15 and the players behind him call.I’m sad that I’m pissing away another $15 now on this hand chasing a gutterball, but I must call and hope that everyone else calls. The BB thinks and think and thinks and eventually closes the action with a $15 call. We’re all still in the pot.
River: $205 5
Bink! There is a wheel on board and I have the stone cold 7-card nut straight. My only thought is how to get max value out of this hand. It checks around to me. Players have everything from $75-300 behind and I have them all covered.
What do you bet? I wanted to make it look like I was trying to fold out some of the chops and shoving seems too big. And if anyone else has a 6, I would have heard by now so I’m more interested in keeping anyone who wants stay in the chop. I really don’t know what the right amount is here. $20 they all call, but maybe $100 gets two callers so $100 is better? In hindsight I think $45-50 would have been much, much better and made more money.
Anyway, I decide on an amount and slide out $100 into a $200 pot. Everyone grumbles audibly. I stay still and try to fly casual.
The BB hems and haws and hems and haws and finally makes the call. Sadly, everyone else folds.
I turn over my hand and he goes ape****! “How the **** do you stay in there with that?! Nice hind, dude. Keep playing that way, man. I hope you enjoy the money.”
He had exactly $101 left and the dealer tosses him back his last chip. Darvin taps me on the shoulder. I hadn’t even noticed his arrival – he got there just as the hand was ending and saw my final bet.
“That was awesome!” Darvin says. The BB is still right there but Darvin is oblivious to the daggers coming out of his eyes. Let us all think a few moments on how poorly the BB played his hand when I tell you he had 44 and flopped middle set.
We meet up for dinner on our last night. Phil has cleaned up and has close to $3k in winnings. Darvin, as expected, has been completely roasted and is down more than he cares to share. I estimate he lost $1500-2000. He is introspective and angry with himself over a big pot he lost on his very last UTG hand:
Darvin has AA and is $1100 deep at 1/3. He opens to $15. Maniac LAG ($700) pops it to $45 and the button ($400) overcalls. Darvin 4-bets to . . . $115.
Yeah, way too small. So you can imagine what happens from there. They both call because Darvin has given them odds to call with any holding they can possibly have. Flop is 559 and Darvin open ships into LAG’s A5, and button folds KK face up. I have flashbacks to my Aria 2/5 hand from last year. Have we all had to learn this one the hard way?
We have this thing where when Darvin asks about help with a hand analysis, he goes over it with Phil and me separately to see if we have any consensus or disagreement on how the could have been played. Darvin says, “How much do you think I should have 4-bet?”
I think out loud: “Well, you’ve got two players left behind. The big stack still has $650 left and there’s $100 in the pot already. I want the LAG to have to put in another $150-200 to call, so maybe raise to around $225? Then he’d have to put in another $180 and you’ll only have a pot size bet left in his stack on the flop, especially if the button calls, too. You’re going for no more decisions left to make on the hand. You just ship it in on any flop if they call, and hopefully one of them has KK or QQ, can’t get away, and you win a big pot? Maybe 250 or 200 is ok, but I think it needs to start with a “2”. Sure, they both fold most of the time and you win $90, but that’s ok, too. Ok, final answer, $225!”
Phil: “That’s EXACTLY what I said!”
See? I’m learning! Thanks for reading!
Session total: +$257
Trip total: +$1110
)
