"To the Governing Dynamics"
-The Mathematician's toast, A Beautiful Mind

"You don't seem to mind losing," the guy to my right says to me after I've value-owned myself out of $200 in a completely standard spot, noting, apparently, the casual nature with which I reach into my pocket and pull out the clip to reload. He's drunk off his ass and completely incompetent, but nevertheless seems to be an interesting human being, quick of wit and sharp of tongue.

"I don't," I say. "I made the right play and got the wrong result. Comes a time that doesn't bother you much." It probably helps my conversational skill that I've just marathoned the entire first season of Justified. I could critique the show every which way from Sunday, but holy hell does it have a feel for the inherent wit of wryness.

"You don't care about the money?"

"Not so much," I confirm. "You make the right plays, in the long run the money takes care of itself."

He asks, "How do you think that most people think about the money?"

I say, "Differently."

He approves of the answer, and offers me a high five in return. It's been a while since I've been offered a high five. The fist-bump's takeover seems to have been quite punctuated, in the evolutionary sense. I return it.

His finding profundity in the one-word response leaves me content to close down the conversation, but already my brain has jumped to random moments in my past that seem connected. Arguing as a second-grader, until I was red in the face, to a teacher that tried to teach us something that I knew was wrong, that Maine, and not Minnesota, was the northern-most of the contiguous states. Trying to explain to a high school friend that I never crammed for tests because whatever knowledge that gained me was not nearly worth the disruption to my sleep and thus my test-taking ability. My first experiences with the certitude of Creationists. The ex-girlfriend that dragged me to a meeting of the town's local ghost-hunter crowd and that seemed constitutionally incapable of interpreting any skepticism as anything other than the close-mindedness that her attitude ironically displayed in excess, and my realizing that I didn't want to have anything more to do with her.

These experiences may not seem to have much in common, but my brain is always making these weird connections. To me their link is in the same spot where the poker metagame exists, that spot where the knowledge of the process itself is so much more valuable than the actual result of that process.

The first observation, of the teacher to whom the nuances of latitude lines and the Longitudinal Projection were just a bit too subtle, led me to the basic truth that most people never learn to learn. They learn only the most basic rules - in this case, that where maps were concerned, "Up" means "North" - and never dig deeper. So memorization - that surface gloss of fake, gilded knowledge - takes its place, to very mixed results.

The second, of the friend that was flummoxed by my study habits, led me to understand that most people just don't seem to see the translation process at work in almost anything, or the trade-offs; in this case, trading a small amount of additional rote memorization for exhaustion during the actual exam, just didn't seem worth it, because I had the wit to see that the exam itself was an entity unto itself, and never a perfect representation of actual knowledge (although, of course, knowledge helped).

The third taught me about the poison of propaganda, the sad and simple truth that most people decide what to believe in based on what voices sound the most authoritative, and break ties based on emotional appeal, placing actual observation and objective reasoning very low on their scale of priorities.

The fourth taught me about the power of psychological projection, the fact that what people accuse others of is so often what they are most guilty of themselves, as well as the simple truth that, probably because of some of the above points, most people never really develop the filter to tell the difference between the good ideas and the bad ones. The first word that comes to mind is "helpless". The crippling helplessness of being at the mercy of the first idea that your world can generate to fill a spot in your brain is terrifying.

None of this seems much related to poker at first glance, but to me, they're all very closely connected to the game I was so drawn to and continue to love, why the first poker strategy books that I read I tore through like novels. It scratched that itch that existence in the world doesn't quite seem to; so often the world seems like an asylum designed by the inmates, built to reinforce our prejudices and celebrate the ignorant certitude of a world built on bull**** dressed up as folk wisdom and "common sense."

It's not that poker, even at a very high level, doesn't have more than its share of rules, shortcuts, superstitions, or truisms, just that its existence as a ruthless meritocracy inevitably filters out any rules that aren't rooted in fact and rewards the refinement of the good rules in favor of those that understand the governing dynamics of what makes those good rules good to begin with. It rewards, more than anything I've encountered those who go about the game, who go about their overall lives...

...Differently. There's that word again. I had a hard time explaining to the girl I'm seeing why "Not Normal" was a very high compliment in my book. But to me it explains why - even tonight, as I sit through (and fully expect to enjoy, because the premise is right up my alley, humor-wise) a movie where Abraham Lincoln is a vampire hunter - in a roundabout way, I'm never that far from the tables in my head. It explains why the nights, such as the one this weekend, where I won $500 but left far too much money at the table, are unsatisfying, and why the second-level ceiling of a sufficiently low-skill game just doesn't quite do it for me, why the news that in a coupe of months my company is slowing down their project output and that "that wouldn't be a bad time to plan a vacation hint hint" leads me checking airfares into LAS and rates at a few of the strip hotels, why the thought of waking up, typing up a summary of the previous day's events at the tables, and posting my long and rambling thoughts onto an Internet thread, makes me smile.

August.

Your post is extremely thoughtful and intelligent. My compliments!!!
This is posting is what allows me to know that you are truly a successful person!!
{Note that I did not state, '...poker player', because I feel one evolves into the other.}
Thank you for sharing something that should benefit all.

Great post, Shaffer. Your writing has evolved since your trip report, although it could just be that you took a different approach here, i.e. thought provoking essay vs. a story based on actual events. Regardless, I enjoyed it.

You hit on what I've discovered is the key to success at pretty much anything, be it poker, business, athletics or relationships - focus on process, not outcomes. It took me a long time to understand how to do that but now that I have (although it can still be a daily struggle) I've become more successful in all aspects of my life.

Again, good read.

good report man

Magnificent.

Planning on continuing ITT or starting fresh?

The plane ticket is bought, the hotel reservation is made (for the first 10 days, at least). Arriving Aug 1, departing Aug 15, which now that I think about it makes this quote

evidence that I'm a big fat liar, huh? But I figure that 14 days will allow for a day or two to be taken off without me feeling like I'm wasting my time, and plus, being more familiar with the surroundings should fit nicely into my mental well being - I think a lot of the fatigue from the first go-around was due to the fact that I played a 19 hour session my 2nd day in, as well as having no idea where to go to eat, etc. Plus I'm getting the whole month off of work anyway (and am single again: girls == crazy imo), so a one week trip would come off, to me, as insufferably weaksauce.

I'll be staying at Bally's, chosen for the fact that I got good rates throughout as well as the fact that it's directly across the street from the Bellagio but remains within walking distance - even in the August heat - from the Aria and Venetian. The BR is in robusto shape for the moment and the format will be the same, writeup of the previous night's misadventures in the morning and lots and lots of poker. I will be consciously working

- to improve my game
- to work in a few more tournaments
- to be a bit more disciplined about sleep

I'll be continuing ITT (I mean, it's 5* - holy crap thanks for that btw - and there's no way I can blow that TR equity) and in largely the same format.

PS: virtual e-cookie to anyone that can explain my thought process for saying "girls == crazy" as opposed to "girls = crazy".

You're saying girls are equal to crazy, as opposed to girls are defined as crazy. == is a programming construct for evaluating equivalency. I'm guessing the broader statement is that you are single, therefore girls are crazy.

/geek

Actually that is language-dependent; C for example is that way but others (like COBOL I think) are the opposite.

/nit

As far as I know == is used exclusively to evaluate equivalency, while := is used exclusively to set the left-hand value equal to the right-hand value. = can take the place of either, and some languages use only it. There may be exceptions I'm unaware of, however.

My intent was to imply that the craziness of girls was an inherent property to the universe, rather than something I was redefining them as due to my specific experience. Deadmau5 gets the virtual e-cookie. Enjoy your virtual e-cookie, sir.

Glad i found this thread, just finished your TR, really well written, and i am looking forward to reading more in Aug.
GL

Trip 2, Prologue

"The past tempts us, the present confuses us, and the future frightens us. And our lives slip away, moment by moment, lost in the vast terrible in-between."
-Emperor Turhan, Babylon 5

So, I'm sitting in bed at my friend's place and I'm having trouble sleeping, and part of me wishes I could tell you that this bout of semi-insomnia has much of anything to do with my forthcoming trip. It doesn't, actually - the truth is that I took a nap this afternoon, which confused my internal clock a bit - but the temptation to over-dramatize the moment is great. I think that's the Olympics rubbing off on me a bit. My first two attempts at this first paragraph drifted into statements that sounded good but I realized actually weren't true. I sat down with the intent of explaining the feeling of jitters that I felt like I should probably be feeling, but then I counldn't because that's not what I'm feeling at all. In under 12 hours I'll be on a plane to Vegas, and a few hours later in all likelihood I'll be at a poker table with more money in front of me than most people would probably argue is reasonable, with multiple other people that will be trying as best they can to take every penny. Poker's not a hard thing to make seem dramatic, and even following the relative success of the previous trip, this still qualifies as something of a risky shot. I'm still under-rolled - though my overall total life-roll is certainly robusto by now - still not used to the dollar values I'll be flinging around for the next couple of weeks. The possibility of busting my entire poker roll, while miniscule (given that I will move down in limits if things start to go really bad), is nonzero. But reading through the first post of this thread again, there's simply no way I can muster that same sort of nervous enthusiasm for this trip, nor do I feel any particular nudge toward my characteristic neurotic philosophical rambling. Truth be told, if this had been my attitude in the buildup to my first trip, I probably wouldn't have started a thread to begin with.

But that's how these things go, and that's a good thing, I suppose. If the first trip was about the coming to grips with an increased level of risk, this one has to be about the establishment of a routine, maintaining a level of discipline, and keeping total control over my own headspace while I let my poker algorithms do their thing somewhere else in my brain. A saying common in the military is that nobody ever rises to the occasion: instead you fall back on your training. And while I doubt whoever said that first had sitting on one's ass, playing thousands of hands of online poker with 9 tables in front of them, as the sort of "training" they had in mind, in my mind it still counts. I'm finding it more and more important to focus on that period of my life just now, even as my last Vegas trip feels like it happened just yesterday, the faces of the various villains I faced during that trip still seem very fresh, and I can still retrace in my head the convoluted path to my room in the IP. A certain part of my brain, I realize, wants for that lightning to strike twice, when of course lightning is something of a problem to predict. Instead what I should be focusing on is the experience I drew upon to make that first trip such a success to begin with.

None of this is terribly earth-shattering as far as revelations go, I fear. I'm fine with that. Retracing the steps of a vacation never produces the same result; every variable compounds upon another, and the expectations of the past cloud the enjoyment of the present. I can't recreate my first trip any more than I can experience the sheer wonder that happened to me the first time I watched The Wire, but I watched through Season 4 again recently, and for the first time noticed a new detail: in the first episode that Carcetti's campaign commercial lauds his record of voting against the "over-development" of the Baltimore ports, referring to the "Granary" condominiums that Carcetti will later cut the ribbon on as mayor, having subtly reversed his position. What the hell does that have to do with poker, you might ask? Not a damn thing, except to highlight that just because you can never really recreate an experience, that doesn't mean that revisiting it doesn't have merit. For something of sufficient complexity - poker and The Wire both count - new patterns can always emerge.

Awesome! I'm stoked to follow your TR on this second trip - run good!!

As much as it seems like you're trying to downplay this trip I'm sure it'll be awesome.

Sweet first post for the second trip---I have been trying to recreate a couple of great vacations for about a decade. Results are mostly good, but never live up to my memory.

Run goot S!

Great poker trip report. I know other people in this thread seemed to enjoy it so carry on, but I refuse read some knucklehead, posting on the internet, taking themselves too seriously with their many paragraphs about their thoughts on life.

Couldn't agree more, txdome!
I much prefer reading thinly veiled troll posts.

Trip 2, Day 1

"I used to think it was awful that life was so unfair. Then I thought, 'wouldn't it be much worse if life were fair, and all the terrible things that happen to us come because we actually deserve them?' So now I take great comfort in the general hostility and unfairness of the universe."
-Marcus Cole, Babylon 5

I'm still in Milwaukee, but already feeling the rungood. You see, I chose Southwest for my flight, and hadn't flown them in a while, meaning I forgot the imperative of checking in as early as humanly possible for a SW flight because of the advancement up the queue of their open seat selection. So because I'm the fish that walks up to the gate agent and gets my boarding pass there, I'm among the last to board the plane. Already dreading the middle seat, as I walk in I gauge my surroundings and sure enough, the first three seats I spot are middle seats crammed between overweight gentlemen that seem Newtonianally discontent to stay in their designated areas. My heart's about to sink when ... bam! Window seat, to the left of the average-sized middle-aged woman in the middle seat and her husband that's chosen the aisle. I ask if anyone's taken that seat, they say no, go ahead, and I already feel like I've gotten away with something. About the only reason I can think of that nobody's taken the seat is that the couple is black (and, you know, totally threatening, what with him in the polo shirt, jean shorts, and Nike baseball cap, her in the Reebok top and stretch pants, already fumbling for their portable DVD player into which they place what appeared to be a bootleg DVD of the movie "Ted", which they giggled incessantly at). I put my head against the side of the plane and get a nice nap after my crappy night's sleep, a surprisingly pleasant development. Racism FTW, I guess?

It was a bit of an early flight, non-stop from Milwaukee (about a 2hr drive from where I live), hence my staying with a friend the previous night and getting a ride to the airport. It arrives at Vegas at noon local time, several hours before Bally's designated check-in time of 4:00, so I decide to take my bag with me to the Bellagio and get a little poker in. I direct the cabbie there, he actually speaks english and seems at least semi-function, so we chat a bit, he drops me off and I immediately get on the list.

Turns out I have to wait close to an hour despite being the first person on the list; there's just the one table, and nobody seems in a hurry to leave. But that's just fine, my Brewers are stomping over the Astros and I watch Ryan Braun crank his 29th home run in an epic 14 pitch at-bat. Finally the #1 seat gets up to play 10-20 and I take my seat, buying in for $1000. I note immediately one familiar face from my previous trip: the super-classy lady with the French accent and the expensive jewelry. She's in her red outfit, complete with red designer purse. Her presence makes me feel good as I know she's not a terribly dangerous player and the table otherwise seems a bit bad, with only one player that looks somewhat fishy.

I play snug at first, getting a feel for the table, and win a few pots with uncontested cbets, feeling good as I didn't have an actual hand in any of them. My first notable hand is with 9K in the hijack. I open raise to $30 and the button, a good, solid, aggro European player, defends. The flop comes J97, borderline for a cbet but good enough to charge draws and end the hand where I can. I make it $40 and he calls. The turn is the 5 and I decide to check. He bets $120, and I take a moment to decide my plan. The big bet doesn't really feel right for a jack; he's representing more that he flopped huge with a set or 8T, or caught the straight on the turn with 68. The only set that I see is reasonably in his range is 77 and the single 99 combo, and balanced against that are a plethora of QT combos for the open-ender and KT combos for the double-gutshot, plus the possibility of a hand like KQ suited for the gutshot/overs/backdoor. It's thin, but I decide to call. The river comes the A and again I check. He surprises me by sliding out his entire stack of black chips, enough to put me all in, a substantial overbet, almost 2x pot. I sit back and think. It's possible I've misread his bet sizing and that he just has a simple hand like AJ that's taking straight value, but really I think he either has a set, straight, or busted draw, and the busted draws certainly outnumber the monsters he could be holding. That leans me toward calling, but the overbet seemed like too much of a clue, like he was trying to mimic the play of a bully to trigger the "why so much?" reflex, when he was clearly a calm, thinking player, young, European, not unlikely to be on 2+2, clearly playing with his brains more than his balls (which isn't meant to suggest a lack of balls, of course). I fold, noting that it was a good bet. He says, "You folded, it probably wasn't", and claimed 77. The SB, who seemed like kind of a fish, piped up that he had 8T and would have flopped the straight. My opponent said he would have gotten all of his money then. I know that some players aren't above continuing a lie to save face, but I believe he had the set.

A bit later that same player opens from EP and I call from late position with the 33. The flop comes super-wet, JT8, and he checks. I decide I have enough showdown value to check, and that I have no problem calling at least one street if he takes that as permission to bluff. The turn is the 5 and he bets out, $40. I insta-call, and the river comes the 8. He bets out again, $120, and again I take my time. I really think he just has overs quite a bit here, hence the missed cbet since this is obviously a terrible board to fire at with air until I've checked. I'm sure he doesn't have a 2pair+ monster, unless it's exactly a set of 5's, am definitely sure he doesn't have an 8, which is what the bet size would seem to represent, which leaves the possibility of overcard air designed to push me off exactly what I have, or a hand like AA/KK/QQ/maybe AJ, which some players will sometimes refrain from cbetting OOP on a super-crappy flop with the intent of check/calling multiple streets or firing out if checked back to and bricks hit. I decide it's about 50/50 and am getting the odds to call, so I call. He shows AA and wins. I decide my call was probably a little spewy, but I think my reasoning was still sound.

That hand, combined with a string of entrances that I'm forced to fold, puts me down around $500 from my starting stack, and I reload another $500. Almost immediately I catch four hands in rapid succession, the first three being TT, AKo, and 99. I raise all three, and win small pots with all three hands without showing. In the fourth hand in the string I catch QQ and raise it to $30 UTG. There's a caller, and the same villain as in the previous two hands 3bets me to $120. Now, ordinarily, of course, when you raise UTG and get 3bet by a solid player in MP, QQ is far from a monster holding. But with it being the fourth hand you've raised in a row against a thinking, aggressive, and reactive table, the metagame goes into a bit of a tailspin and it becomes almost impossible to get away from IMO. My only options really become to flat and stack unless the flop sucks, or 4bet/get it in, and I choose the latter, reraising to $340. Villain thinks for a moment and shoves. I call, and he shows AA. I deflate. We run it twice, but I can't suck out either time. I sigh and rebuy, another $1000.

I'm not overly steamed from the incident, I'm convinced it was enough of a cooler not to worry about it, and I play snug for a few rotations, staying about even. Then I catch AK in late position and raise. The button, a bigger guy dressed in a dress shirt and tie but that I had quickly come to suspect was doing so precisely so that people would snap-judge him as a fish (from what I saw he seemed to know quite well what he was doing, good, aggressive, thinking), 3bets me to $140. I 4bet to $340 and he shoves. I call and he quickly flips over aces. I sigh. I'm not sure if it's consolation or insult-to-injury that the flop comes out AKx, meaning that even if I'd flatted there's a 0% chance of getting away from the hand. He has me just covered, and I announce that I'm done. The villain from the first few hands makes what seems like a legit attempt at commisseration ("Wow, you're running so bad, man"), which I appreciate, but it doesn't quite remove the sting. I don't think there's any way to continue here without being on one form of tilt or another. I've just dropped $2500 before even checking into my goddamn hotel. "Nice hand," I say, not unpleasantly, and quickly walk away.

By then it's check-in time so I walk to Bally's. I get into my room, get my computer set up, get online, check my work email, see that I'm free. It's around dinner time in Wisconsin and the stomach is rumbling, so I go about getting some food. There's a decent bar+grill off the casino in Bally's, not overpriced at all for the strip, and I grab a chicken sandwich and some fries. When I'm done I decide my only play is to get back on the horse and head back across the street to the B. There's immediate seating at 5/10 on a short-handed must-move table, which I bring to 6-handed, and I'm immediately struck by the presence of a guy in a Hawaiian shirt and, no kidding, sunglasses propped onto the back of his head. Thinking such obvious fishiness has to be some kind of level 2 deception, I'm wary, but no, he really does seem a bit clueless. I also note one of the other players, across the table, a young asain kid that I'm about 75% sure was the villain from my first trip that brilliantly cold 4bet bluffed my squeeze in a memorable hand.

I get in one crappy hand early, easily my worst hand so far, where I raise TT from the button and double-barrel a board that runs out Q873 for value. Villain calls twice and the river is the 6. I check and he bets out $140. I make what is in retrospect a very poor call, and he shows the obvious Q in the form of QJ.

Shaking that off, I nevertheless lose a few more in boring standard spots, and I again find myself in a position of reloading for another $500 and seriously considering exactly how much more I can lose before forcing myself to move down. I decide on a number and continue playing. Before long we're down to 3-handed, as the Hawaiian Shirt Guy is must-moved to the main table. It's me, the Asian, and a lanky white guy who seems more interested in his texting conversation than in the game. I'm pretty comfortable short-handed and these two seem a little reluctant to fully adjust, so I decide to play for a while and see how it goes, though I resolve that I'm not reloading any more as I know how high-variance short-handed play is.

I do well 3-handed, and take down far more than my fair share of pots with cbets, which goes a long way when short. I note about 20 minutes into our 3-handed session when we see our first 3-handed flop. "That's probably not good," the lanky guy deadpans, and I agree. I call a 3bet with KQo on the button but am forced to fold to a follow-through, but then catch KJo in the SB and raise to 40, with Lanky Guy calling. I flop top two and get two streets of value, firing out the third barrel before getting a reluctant fold.

In the most interesting of the 3-handed hands, I raise K4 on the button and Lanky Guy defends his SB. The flop comes 33J and I cbet $40. He quickly calls, and then proceeds to lead out $90 on the 4 turn. He'd done that once before, check-called the flop and led the turn on a brick. It's unorthodox but in his case felt that it represented a wide range that included some bluffs, some mid-range value hands (middle pocket pairs), flush draws, 3's, and even boats, though I felt that was unlikely with only the one 44 combo left. I'm not raising, since the pair of 4's is basically meaningless; the only hands I've caught up to are 22 and Ax, nor does it make hitting my K beat anything it didn't before since he will only very rarely have Kx here except on some bizarre premeditated bluff lines. So catching the pair basically only means a potential 2 more outs to boat up, but every bit helps, and it's an easy call. The river is the T, finishing my flush. He bets out $140. I consider the situation, knowing I have to raise, and decide on $370. He considers it for a moment and calls. I show the flush, he nods and mucks. Not sure what he called with, but I imagine it could have been wide as his perception of my range should be very polarized there. I wouldn't be shocked if he paid me off with a hand like 55-66 there, though a 3 or lower flush is certainly more likely, and 56 fits very well with the narrative he showed me. In any case, that was a win that put me back above even, and not long after the Asian kid cashed out and we decided we didn't have any particular desire to play heads-up, so the table broke.

With no more seats available I was finally starting to feel a little fatigued from the trip and decided to call it an early night. I wind up chatting on the phone with a friend of mine about a work opportunity dilemma that seems like it could have a profound effect on her life, and that is a very difficult decision. I do my best to help, but ultimately it will be her decision, and it's not an easy one. That conversation brings me back to the table from a completely different light, and I'm reminded how insignificant a $1000 bet here or there is in the bigger picture, and that nobody willing to play 5-10 should have much to complain about, period. So unfair as it might seem to me to run so bad so quickly, I'm feeling fine and apart from the TT hand, think I'm playing pretty well.

The second session saw me with a profit of $163, not that much, but meaningful enough to get me started in the right frame of mind.

Day 1: -$2337
Trip Total: -$2337

wipe off those coolers.

Trip 2, Day 2

"I deal with the goddamn customers so the engineers don't have to. I have people skills! I am good at dealing with people! Can't you understand that?! What the hell is wrong with you people?!"
-Smykowski's interview with the Bobs, Office Space

It's 5:30 in the morning when I finally decide that getting back to sleep isn't a possibility and I decide to get out of bed; wow does it ever suck, still being on a working man's schedule on Wisconsin time when in Vegas, aggressively diurnal in a nocturnal town. When you're me, late nights tend to manifest as missed sleep rather than late mornings, too. It can be sad, what a career can do to someone.

Still, there's the update to type up, and a bit of actual work to get done, as I do (sadly) have my work laptop with me and a couple of small projects I need to get done at some point. After finishing the write-up I piddle around at that for a couple of hours without getting much done, even after grabbing some breakfast, and eventually say screw it, grab what I need, and make the easy walk across the overpass, past the boulevard of stores with names on the front like "Prada" and "Gucci" and all that other stuff I never made room in my brain for when I was focusing on memorizing the Star Wars trilogy and every episode of Firefly. (Seriously, at 11, 9/10 of the girls in my class answered the "what do you want to be when you grow up" question with "fashion designer." I answered "Jedi"). Straight to the poker room, and I'm almost immediately into the must-move game.

Part of the appeal of poker is the diversity of personalities it brings to the table, and it's usually a good sign for the table when that diversity is present. When it's a table full of pros, that personality is usually not there. I think most pros don't realize how intimidating it is to the fish that ultimately put food in their mouth when they're up against a bunch of stone-walled blank expressions; to them, it's not much different than playing against a computer program.

This table, at least, has a few specimens that break from the norm, in particular what looks for all the world to be a working-class midwest couple (the fact that they're both drinking Bud Light is my first clue) - no ring on his finger, an engagement ring on hers - that are sitting across from me. Neither is very good - I peg them as home-game regulars on a trip to Vegas to live it up and gamble a bit, but she in particular is looking like the gazelle that's about to bolt, and I know enough about relationship dynamics to know that if she gets up, he's getting up with her. She's a bit tight-passive and he seems like a bit of a nit, neither going out of their way to spew, but both should be great sources of profit for the table. Eventually she drops her first $500, and does reload, but they're not long for the table. I did my best to chat them up a little, but they were already pretty uncomfortable.

All the while I'm playing tight, not really catching much of anything, when to my immediate left sits something what is essentially every conceivable stereotype of a businessman in Vegas for a convention. Middle-aged, overweight, dressed in the dressy quadrant of business-casual, gregarious, friendly. A salesman. The cherry on top of that stereotype is that he actually is carrying with him the booklet for his seminar with him to the table, resting it on his lap. I don't know if you can get any closer to a literal sign-around-the-neck that reads "Fish."

He lasts two hands, one of which he wins. I raise UTG with 99 and he calls, along with one other. I go ahead and cbet a KQx flop and he raises to $200. I fold, and he's dragged in his first pot before his chips have even arrived, and uses $20 worth of them to straddle the next hand, my BB. It's folded to the button, a young, tight, aggro, good thinking player who over-raises a bit to $110. I look down and see JJ. Ordinarily a trivial 3bet spot (I'm about 80bb deep at this point, a trivial stackoff with jacks against a good player btn v blind), I glance to my left and see that the table's new arrival seems itching to play. Figuring he's here to gambooooooool I decide to just call and see how he plays it. He shoves. The button considers for a moment, asks me how much I'm playing, gets his answer, and mucks. I call. Turns out he has AK, way toward the top of what I put his range at. I ask him if he wants it once or twice, he says once, we run out and I fade. He smiles, says "nice hand", gets up, and leaves. Okay. So I'm guessing that poker experience didn't go for him quite like he visualized it.

In his place comes a Chinese woman, apparently a regular that hasn't been around in a while, known to several of the dealers, and for her first hour at the table she's behaving like a ferret on crack. Constantly getting up to answer her phone, excitedly yammering away in Chinese, fidgeting, and taking every possible opportunity to change seats. Interestingly she's playing like an absolute nit.

As far as the poker is concerned, I'm splashing around a little but not seeing many turns, and up at around $1500 for the majority of the time. I catch a decent pot against one of the two Europeans - I learn that they're Norwegian, which, I joke, explains their aggression - when I raise 22 from EP (not something I do often, but I'd been limping my small pairs from EP and felt like a couple of the players were taking advantage of that), and the one that tried to console me for my runbad yesterday is the only caller. I cbet a QQ3 rainbow flop and he calls. The turn is some middle card, I think for a moment, and bet $110, which was around half-pot. He stopped for a minute, observed me, and said, "With that bet size, it really feels like you have kings." He folds, and gives a little beg to see my cards. I decide there's no real harm in showing, and show the bluff. He reacts about as I'd hoped.

Also, it seemed worthy of note that a well-coiffed older guy had joined the table. Take every physical feature you stereotype into a nit, and you've basically got him. White hair, well-groomed, well-dressed, mild-mannered, genial. I didn't pay any real attention to him as he sat down, except to note a truly bizarre hand where he fired three barrels with K3o on a dry king-high board and a quiet, young, small guy, almost certainly a pro, called him down. He sheepishly showed top pair no kicker, and seemed shocked that it was good. The whole hand seemed bizarre, but I reasoned that there must be some specific history between the two.

I'm must-moved to the main table before I can think on the situation in any more depth, though, and found there the Classy French Lady (I swear one of these days I'll remember someone's name, just because it has yet to happen in my life doesn't mean it won't happen eventually), and the Chinese woman, who are both nitting it up (though Classy French Lady does have a decent mound of chips; I'm perplexed whenever I see anyone pay her off). Beyond that the table seems kinda bad, with one guy that I begin to suspect is a little over his head. I'm treading water without playable hands for about an hour.

Then the Well-Coiffed Man joins the table, and everything changes.

It takes me a couple of rotations to realize it, but the dude is ****ing crazy. He's playing like his lifespan and his VPIP are somehow linked and wants to live into his 90's, and as far as I can tell has two modes: complete aggro-spewmonkey maniac and complete calldown loose-passive-fish-with-a-side-dish-of-maniac, which - and I doubt this was conscious - seems to alternate at every time drop. One rotation he's raising every single hand, and it's nothing but bet-bet-bet, the next he's calling down and then check-raising the river...

...because he's inevitably hitting trips. And when it's not trips it's two pair. And when it wasn't two pair it's a rivered pair of deuces that miracuously hold up because everyone else was on a draw. And when it wasn't that, it was a straight. It's like the dude consumed the lifeforce of Jaime Gold and then had Darvin Moon for dessert. I don't know that I've ever seen anyone run as hot as he was.

The table dynamics when a maniac is hot are amusing. The fish, and even the less serious pros seem to tend to nit up, figuring they don't want to tangle with someone that's on fire, while the people that understand independence of events tend to loosen way up and fight for his implied equity wherever they possibly can (reacting to his reaction to "playing the rush", as it were). So you wind up with the same 4 people in every pot, with oversized raises preflop and crazy postflop action.

I was one of those four, to the best extent that I could be, though I was very dead when it came to cards. A couple of spec hands I raised pre and dragged down decent pots on double barrels. I noted that WCM was actually capable of folding when he had absolutely nothing, and while he'd call any cbet with any piece of any flop, he tended to be able to fold when he didn't have at least top pair (it only seemed like he wasn't doing that because that situation didn't happen much). So I'm still treading water when I catch AA in late position and raise it. WCM defends his BB and a limper calls as well, and we see a three-handed disaster flop of 89T. Check-check to me and I make it $80. WCM calls.

The turn bricked out, a low spade, and WCM suddenly donks out. This was bizarre, and not in line with his value lines that I'd seen. He'd shown a lot of value lines and tended to play in flow up until the river, which was where he seemed to lose patience and bet out. And aces play well against his value range, which makes a big raise quite palatable, but I decided this looked more like a bluff and just called.

The river paired the board with the T, and that read was put more to the test when WCM bets out $200. The rulebook says this is a fold, but also says to throw itself out when dealing with this particular player, so I spent a few seconds bemoaning the horrific state of the board and called. WCM tabled AKo for the stone-cold inverted float steal bluff. I let fly a sigh of relief and raked in the pot.

That put me over $2k, and I suppose it stands to reason that the next big pot I played was my biggest winner for the trip and also the pot where I made the biggest mistake. I opened from late position with 78 and WCM defended his SB, the BB also called. The flop came J63. Not much of anything but worth a cbet. It's checked to me and I fire $50. WCM calls and the BB gets out of the way. The turn is the 9, which, giving me the open-ender, was just tempting enough to fire a second barrel, which WCM had shown he would fold some of those BS lower pairs to.

I make it $100 and WCM raises to $250. Huh. My eyes go up and to the right, my wheels start spinning, and I calculate about $550 in the pot, $150 for me to call. I don't have to worry about this guy not paying me off, not when he thinks he has something (as he clearly does), so it's an easy call. I mentally kiss the chips goodbye as I put them into the middle.

River: 5. Boom, headshot!. WCM leads $250 into me and I make, quite frankly, the catastrophic mistake of raising only to $650. Looking back I can't even tell you what I was thinking, beyond some mealy-mouthed philosophy of keeping my river raises small as part of some grand plan to keep ranges merged and limit the risk of my bluffs. WTF. I've got another $1000 or so behind and WCM has me way covered. He snapcalls and shows J9o for top two. It takes him about three tries to see the straight when I show it. I feel numb as I drag the >$2k pot. I've just set a ton money on fire, I realize.

"Dude, you could have raised more", the young Asian pro in seat 1 says to me. "Against that dude you could have shoved." I only nod. I'm doing my best not to seem too pissed at myself. I'm dragging down a substantial pot, after all. But wow, was that a critical error.

I slowly bleed chips for the next couple of hours. Only one person leaves the table in that timeframe; the must-move table seemed like it must have been like the old Full Tilt waiting lists at the absurdly high nosebleed stakes whenever Guy was sitting.

Still, I think I have a chance to get that money back after a long stretch that sees my stack bleed back down to about $2400. There's a straddle, and I raise AT from late position. WCM defends his BB and the straddle defends as well. The flop comes AT5. I am but a young man and new to the ways of war (quick! name the reference!), but I think that's a good flop for me. Checked to me I make it $100, doing the geometric progression that it will take to make it all in somewhere in my head. WCM calls. The turn is the 5 and WCM checks. I don't know what did it - it's possible I subconsciously caught a tell on WCM, or if it's just natural wariness from the number of times I'd seen WCM call a cbet with nothing but bottom pair, but ... I really don't like that card. The plan was to make it $450 on the turn and shove the river, making it just over a PSB for maximum second-level bluffiness. Instead I hesitate and make it just $200. He just has top pair, got to extract, he will pay you. WCM calls.

The river blanks and WCM leads out for $220. I tank for a moment, and remember that WCM's tendency was to lead out the river for pure value. Looking at him, he seems really calm, and he wasn't a hard player to read at all. He very, very clearly wanted a call. Now, that doesn't mean a 5, that could easily mean an ace, but I'm wary enough to just call. He snap shows 56 and I sigh, mucking face up. The rest of the table can't believe this guy's rungood. Frankly by this point, I can't either. I get up for a dinner break, just to defuse the mild tilt I feel coming on, though all told I feel like I got away with murder as I could have (and many would argue I should have) lost a lot more.

Still, he's hemorrhaged chips badly in the past hour, and motions like he's about to get up and leave, racking up his chips. After a rotation he unracks them, and plays for a couple more, culminating in a hand where he called a big raise preflop, the flop came AJx, check-check, turn Q, all the monies went in the middle, and WCM had KTo against the other guy's QQ. Worse, WCM immediately hit-and-ran after winning that ~3k pot, taking with him the energy of a high percentage of the players. Strangely, the must-move table saw more turnaround after that time drop.

I stayed for one more drop, and played one more semi-interesting hand, really more interesting for the fact that it was up against Superfluous Man, the only of my opponents from my previous trip that "outed" himself in the thread, and thus the only person against whom I knowingly had the added variable of get-mentioned-in-the-thread equity. He open min-raised the button and I called from the BB with A5. The flop came 245 rainbow and I led out for $20, fairly standard. He flatted, and the turn changed my plan (I hope you'll understand that I don't give away my whole plan for the hand when I know my opponent is reading this and it's likely I'll face him again), except that the 3 fell on the turn, changing said plan and actually, absurdly, making me like my hand a lot less despite improving to a straight. I checked, he bet $40, and I called. The river came a spade - I think it was the ten - I checked, and villain overbet for $200.

Now, I know that villain read my last day's TR and knows I folded to an overbet there, but this was different, a much more natural spot for an overbet (all chop-happy boards are), and for a brief insane second I consider a CR shove just because I have the A and thus know he doesn't have the nuts. I semi-tank, trying to work out the permutations of leveling wars and the various equities at stake, and eventually confuse myself into thinking "that's a lot of money, I guess I fold," my dumb-guy version of Game Theory Resolution to a leveling war (its converse being "Villain is a good player, therefore his range will be perfectly balanced here, therefore I have no wrong move and am curious, therefore I call"). In all seriousness, it felt like a great spot for value with either a flush or a 6, knowing that given my action either is the nuts and with the added benefit of pushing me off the chop occasionally when it's the 6 he's holding. I folded. He claimed the 2nd nuts. I'm tempted to believe him, as is only natural, though I wouldn't be upset if I were to somehow learn he was lying; all in the game. He's capable of raising the K4 or K5 for sure, and could just as easily float with spade overs with a strong hand like KQ just to see what develops. In any case, NH sir.

Realizing that I'm getting tired, I reach my BB and snap-announce "I'm done". When the eyelids are droopy and the game isn't great, it's time to call it quits. I walk back to the room and fall asleep to the Olympics, only after I cash out bothering to think about where the day's haul puts me in terms of "getting back to even", that dreadful phrase that's fine to talk about away from the tables but that can be so destructive to one's play. The tally ain't bad, just over four figures, and so dropping a little money to start off the trip was, I'm convinced, just a kind of handicap, a way to keep the game fair and sporting

Either that or just a not-insurmountable hurdle. But the other thing sounds so much more fun.

Day 2 Total: +$1041
Trip Total: -$1296

First, let me just say that this is an outstanding TR. Just mark me down as having posted "MOAARR!!!" about ten times itt and lets move on.

The quoted part above absolutely made me lol, with the backdrop of having been there, seen that. About 356,212 times. I exaggerate. But not much.

I play the lower limits here in Florida -- 1/2 and 2/5, and am constantly amused, and bemused, by tablemates who not only alter their play against a guy who dragged more pots than he should have in the last 20 minutes, but on top of that have the numbskullednessto announce to the rest of us that they are doing so !!

I am reminded of three seemingly unrelated comments that people have made to me over the years, none of which have to do with poker, but all of which reinforce the notion that gamblers are doomed because they believe in luck.

The first was a buddy of mine who bought lottery tickets one day and told me he had a 50-50 shot of winning. Because he either would or he wouldn't. Now, he was kidding. But I imagine if one conjured up a for funsies IQ test, and framed it the right way, a fair number of people would bubble in the "because I will or I won't option" next to "Why should I buy tickets" type question.

The second was in Vegas, Bellagio actually, when I overheard someone say-- as they gazed on one of those roulette number trackers-- than a low number was "due." It was at that moment I realized that, as between becoming a lawyer versus being a casino owner, I chose poorly.

The third as within the last month. Was at the gas station, powerball was over the number it has to be to make it loosely correct to play, and when I ask for two picks the lady at the counter asks if I want them on separate tickets.

Huh?

Thinking perhaps there was a tax angle to her comment that I had not previously considered, I make the mistake of asking: "Why?"

She explains to me that if I get one set on one ticket, then "let the machine think," on the second ticket the numbers will be "more different." She shows me my own ticket with the two sets of wildly scattered quick pick numbers, but she insists that they are in some way closer together than if I'd had her do it on two different slips of paper.

I kid you not when I say that, on my way out, she commented that its rigged anyway because people in Florida never win the jackpot.

holy **** people are stupid LOL

pretty sure if i hated life and needed money id just play live poker all day because it will never become unprofitable with people like this spawning more children

Just read the thread from start to finish. Its been a great read and am looking forward to reading about how you get on this time round. I hope you rungood and make a profit again, all the best.

I toyed with concluding "I weep for the future."

Consider it a late edit.

Good to see you writing another one of these!!

just another +1 here. Really enjoyed the first trip report, and looking forward to the rest of the reports on this trip. Run G00t!!