Last night, for a few hands, our table was graced with the presence of the Duke of Fremont Street. I didn't get a picture so I stole one off the Internet from an article in pokernews.com



One of the regs gave me the skinny on the dapper nobleman. He generally sits down at the Golden Nugget uncapped $1/$2 game with $500 in chips and between $5000 and $30,000 in cash, and he carefully plays a range somewhere in the ballpark of QQ-AA. Tonight he looked to have around $10k behind, which he pulled out of a purple Crown Royal bag with a gold drawstring, which drew my instant approval, as that was the selfsame attaché in which I kept my arcade video game quarters when I was a wee lad.

We were at a table in the back of the room, though, and His Grace soon transferred to a table close the front of the room in order--according to the reg--to entertain and hold court with the commoners on the rail. I had heard of the Duke before, vaguely, along with a rumor that he'd been robbed of his roll at least once. The reg told me that the rumor was partially true in that the Duke had been robbed once in Primm, where he had gone to sell some rare coins.

As for me, I lost every hand for the first several hours, and I was by no means card dead for starting hands, so that added up to me being stuck over $500. In Barry Greenstein's excellent Ace on the River, which a 2p2 brother was kind enough to gift me, Greenstein talks about being satisfied with getting half of your money back during a session when you're stuck big. I had originally scheduled 6 hours for last night's session, but I have no qualms about staying longer to try to dig out if I can honestly meet three conditions.

(1) I'm not tired or tilted in any way.
(2) I'm playing my A game.
(3) The game is good.

All of these conditions were in place last night; to be honest, when I was drinking at the table last year, being $500+ in the hole would often tilt me enough to send me home earlier rather than later, but 2020 me can apparently handle this. I stayed another hour and a half until I felt my concentration slipping a bit and I noticed that the table wasn't as good as before, then I racked up and called it a night.

Golden Nugget: 7.5 hours:
(-$248)

Very good, I guess in context not a bad result.

Good stuff. I’ve been to the Nugget a bunch but don’t think I’ve seen him. Thanks for linking to the PN article; here’s a recent interview with the Duke and Nolan Dalla

https://www.nolandalla.com/my-interv...remont-street/

Like they say, it's all one big session, but it was a mindset win to stay extra hours and play well, so that made me happy.

Nice find bob_124. I was a bit snarky in my post, but I want to be clear that guys like the Duke are fun to hang out with and excellent ambassadors for the game. We could use more players like him.

I’ve put in some decent hours at the GN poker room and have never run into The Duke Of Fremont, certainly ran into some other characters there. I’m somewhat of a Duke fan and have been reading stories about him for over 10 years. I use to frequent another site where there was a writer who use to tell slightly fictional but very entertaining stories about the Duke. Writer was an older guy, been in Vegas forever, dealt at the GN back in the 60s. He’s also would tell some entertaining stories about old school Vegas. If you’ve ever seen the movie Lucky You, the writer was the guy playing at Binions who’s going come on 9’s to hit his two outer against the main character. In the clip below it’s the older guy with glass I believe.


https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=fC1bl3MyXgo

I've never seen the movie. Looks good. I can see that they brought up several true-life gambling stories in a minute and a half, though what's up with the blue $5 chips?

Edit: They might be $10 chips, but when OMC goes all in for $35, he dishes out what looks like 7 chips.

I'm not going out tonight due to a case of the runs. I ran into a ticking time bomb scenario this morning when I woke up to find that I'd somehow locked my bathroom door on myself.

The door knob doesn't have a key; to lock it, you push a button on the inside. The way to unlock it from the outside is through a small recessed screw in the knob that requires a very small flathead screwdriver. I was already doing the diarrhea dance to begin with, and now I had to hunt through boxes for a small screwdriver that I wasn't even sure I possessed.

Just before disaster struck I remembered that I keep an eyeglasses repair kit in my suitcase, which contains a tiny flathead screwdriver--almost too tiny; it was touch and go to shift the screw far enough to pop the button on the other side without stripping the screw slot, but I made it, only just, without shitting myself.

Why do I close the bathroom door when I live by myself? I close the vent in there and save a little on heat by keeping the bathroom closed off.

I guess I'll try to finish the Notes from Underground essay tonight. I'm most of the way through with it.

Notes from Underground by Fyodor Dostoevsky

Conclusion

"You know, men take to drink from grief; well, maybe I am here from grief. Come, tell me, what is there good here? Here you and I...came together...just now and did not say one word to one another all the time, and it was only afterwards you began staring at me like a wild creature, and I at you. Is that loving? Is that how one human being should meet another?" It's hideous, that's what it is!"

"Yes!" she assented sharply and hurriedly.

At this point the Underground Man, so eloquent in print, finally finds his speaking voice. An hour or so after his sputtering drunken fiasco of a dinner with his co-workers, he's now here with Liza, a 20-year old sex worker whose family has sold her to a St. Petersburg brothel.

And here we find what may be a theme in the story: for all his off-putting antisocial behavior and attempts to land insults and diminish others, it seems that U.M. only wants to make a real connection with another human being. His method is terrible to say the least, but he wants the method to incite forgiveness from the other party: forgiveness for bumping into the unnamed officer, for insulting Zverkov, for holding back on his servant Apollon's pay, and finally for using Liza without acknowledging her humanity.

Here near the end of the second Act, lying in bed with Liza, U.M. finally gets what he's always been looking for, in that sharp "Yes!" of assent from Liza. But it can never be enough for him, because U.M. always has to push things past their limits, and besides that he's finally found his voice, so why squander that long sought-after embodiment after such a small bit of success?

It was the exercise of my power that attracted me most.

Encouraged, U.M. dishes out an eloquent multi-page soliloquy detailing all of the joys of couplehood, then marriage, then parenting--as if he knows anything about these things beyond what he's read in novels. Indeed, at one point Liza interrupts him to say,

"Why, you...speak somehow like a book," she said, and again there was a note of irony in her voice.

That remark sent a pang to my heart. It was not what I was expecting.

Now deflated and petulant, U.M. dishes out an even more eloquent multi-page soliloquy detailing all of the potential horrors associated with sex work.

"And for what have you ruined your life, if you come to think of it? For the coffee they give you to drink and the plentiful meals? But with what object are they feeding you up? An honest girl couldn't swallow the food, for she would know what she was being fed for. You are in debt here, and, of course you will always be in debt, and you will go on in debt to the end, till the visitors here begin to scorn you. And that will soon happen, don't rely upon your youth--all that flies by express train here, you know. You will be kicked out. And not simply kicked out; long before that [the Madame will] begin nagging at you, scolding you, abusing you, as though you had not sacrificed your health for her, had not thrown away your youth and your soul for her benefit, but as though you had ruined her, beggared her, robbed her.

And don't expect anyone to take your part: the others, your companions, will attack you, too, to win her favor, for all are in slavery here, and have lost all conscience and pity here long ago. They have become utterly vile, and nothing on earth is viler, more loathsome, and more insulting than their abuse. And you are laying down everything here, unconditionally, youth and health and beauty and hope, and at twenty-two you will look like a woman of five-and-thirty, and you will be lucky if you are not diseased, pray to God for that! [...]

And you won't dare to say a word, not half a word when they drive you away from here; you will go away as though you were to blame. You will change to another house, then to a third, then somewhere else, till you come down at last to Haymarket. There you will be beaten at every turn; that is good manners there, the visitors don't know how to be friendly without beating you.

U.M. goes on like this at great length, ramping up the melodrama almost beyond its limit, until he gets Liza to cry, for that seems to have been his object. After all of his prior failed attempts to speak his thoughts as well as he can write them, he has finally found success, and he uses his newfound power to make a young and vulnerable sex worker feel terrible about herself and terrified for her future.

At this point U.M. attempts to shift towards making his human connection by apologizing to Liza profusely and inviting her to his apartment. He's never made it this far with the others, always hoping to just once complete the cycle of insult, apology and forgiveness, but can Liza forgive him?

"I will come," she answered resolutely.

Liza doesn't show up at U.M.'s for more than three days, enough time for U.M. to get on with antagonizing his servant Apollon through withholding his meager wages and trying to make the poor man beg for them. Liza shows up right in the middle of U.M.'s screaming fit at Apollon.

"Apollon," I whispered in feverish haste, flinging down before him the seven rubles which had remained all the time in my clenched fist, "here are your wages, you see I give them to you; but for that you must come to my rescue: bring me tea and a dozen biscuits from the restaurant. If you won't go, you'll make me a miserable man! You don't know what this woman is...This is--everything! You may be imagining something...But you don't know what that woman is!"

Apollon sits and stares at U.M. for a few minutes, but the servant finally takes pity on U.M. and heads out for the refreshments.

I sat down again. She looked at me uneasily. For some minutes we were silent.

"I will kill him," I shouted suddenly, striking the table with my fist so that the ink spurted out of the inkstand.

"What are you saying!" she cried, starting.

"I will kill him! kill him!" I shrieked, suddenly striking the table in absolute frenzy, and at the same time fully understanding how stupid it was to be in such a frenzy. "You don't know, Liza, what that torturer is to me. He is my torturer...He has gone now to fetch some biscuits; he..."

And suddenly I burst into tears. It was an hysterical attack. How ashamed I felt in the midst of my sobs; but still I could not restrain them.

It was at this point in the story that I realized I was reading a very subtle and dense sort of black comedy. How else to describe it? U.M. is the original Oscar the Grouch, the original Grouchy Smurf, the original Eeyore. I understood, finally, that our role as readers is not to try to understand U.M. or to empathize with him, ours is but to laugh at him and to be glad that we are not him and that we will never be like him.

Dostoevsky's joke is nothing less than stringing me along on this guy for so long. Haha. I get it now.

Alas, poor Liza is not in on the joke. Leave it to U.M. to try to clue her in...

"Save you!" I went on, jumping up from my chair and running up and down the room before her. "Save you from what? But perhaps I am worse than you myself. Why didn't you throw it in my teeth when I was giving you that sermon: 'But what did you come here yourself for? was it to read us a sermon?' Power, power was what I wanted then, sport was what I wanted, I wanted to wring out your tears, your humiliation, your hysteria--that was what I wanted then!" [...]

"Surely by now you must realize that I shall never forgive you for having found me in this wretched dressing-gown, just as I was flying at Apollon like a spiteful cur. The savior, the former hero, was flying like a mangy, unkempt sheep-dog at his lackey, and the lackey was jeering at him! And I shall never forgive you for the tears I could not help shedding before you just now, like some silly woman put to shame! And for what I am confessing to you now, I shall never forgive you either! Yes--you must answer for it all because you turned up like this, because I am a blackguard, because I am the nastiest, stupidest, absurdest and most envious of all the worms on earth, who are not a bit better than I am, but, the devil knows why are never put to confusion; while I shall always be insulted by every louse, that is my doom!"

Liza forgives U.M. for everything and they end up in bed. Afterwards, U.M. sees the error of his ways, he marries Liza and they live a messy but ultimately contented life together.

Just kidding, after they sleep together U.M. tries to shove a five-ruble note in Liza's hand as a fresh new insult. She tosses it away and storms out. He chases after her through the snow, begging once again for her forgiveness, but she's gone and he turns back, now set up for a lifetime of bitter regrets and crushing isolation.

Next up: Mark Z. Danielewski's House of Leaves.

It looks like this book is going to take a while for me to finish, given that I haven't even started it yet and that it's a large book filled with quirky 90's style deconstructionist formatting.

I mean I guess for folks like us there’s some promising points of the movie, heck Robert Duvall depicts the best poker player ever so it can’t be that bad.

Overall it’s not a very good movie but worth seeing I guess.

Tonight the Golden Nugget tables were hopping with Moose Lodge brothers and sisters, arriving in town for their big poker tournament tomorrow.

My cousin is or was a Moose member and I played a tourney at one of their lodges a few years ago. As poker players went, they weren't to be feared in particular, and that doesn't seem to have changed in the intervening years. As far as people go; however, every brother and sister that I've met has been very nice and down-to-earth and fun to hang out with. If I ever decide to join a fraternal order, the Moose will be at the top of my list.

I cut the session short because I want to try to make the noon tourney at the Wynn/Encore tomorrow.

Golden Nugget: 3.5 hours
+$171

GL in the tourney but I would make a point of getting in as many hours as possible while those guys are in town.

Good idea. I played a short cash session instead after I checked Bravo and found that there's a better tournament scheduled at the GN tomorrow at 11AM. It's one of the side events coinciding with the Moose Lodge main event, but it's open to everyone. $160 buyin, $20k gtd and 30 minute levels. I approve of all three of these details.

Last night's cash game was juicy, but I was completely card dead until near the end of the session, when I ran the nut flush into a boat.

Golden Nugget: 2.5 hours:
(-$197)

Bummer

Would play these daily if they ran in my area. You know what we get? $200 buyin, $5k guaranteed, 25 minute levels.
Dubble-bummer

Also considering a large part of this player pool coming from the Moose Lodge guys. I’m not a tourney player but if I was in town I’d definitely consider playing this.

Only thing that would keep me away is considering how juicy the cash games are going to be when these guys bust out. All man between this and when there’s the free bar poker National tournament in town I bet the games are excellent.

I’m with Nit on the thought that the cash games around the moose lodge tournaments have to be too juicy to pass up. Of course their is the risk of running like total horse **** in cash and losing several buy ins vs the fixed tournament cost. However, do your best Mike McD impression and okay a super TAG game.

It's a nice opportunity, but the Moose aren't any worse in their play than the average tourists; there are just more of them. As much as this makes the ratio better in the cash games, it makes it even better in the special tournaments.

It's a better tourney than you can get from the Las Vegas dailies as well, and they got 270 runners, which is a nice medium number.

I had a good time and I played okay. My exit hand was interesting. I'm down to T$10k in chips. Blinds are 250/500/50. EP limps, MP limps, I'm on BTN with AK and I make it $2000. BB calls, EP calls, and MP calls.

(Pot T$11500) - Four Players

Flop Q83

Checks to me. I'm not an advocate for c-betting into 3 players, but (1) everyone's checked to me, (2) it's not the driest board but it's pretty dry, (3) the pot is 115% of my stack at the start of the hand, (4) I have overcards, a K blocker to the flush draw, a backdoor flush draw and a backdoor straight draw. Also, (5) this is a tournament. I need chips now, not at some future spot than may never turn up.

I thought that a 3/4+ pot shove would look less scary than a stack-committing c-bet of around half, so I bet $5000, leaving me only $3000 back. BB, who covered me, shoved with Q9. Folds to me. I called and BB held.

In retrospect I probably should have made it more pre, maybe $2500 or $3000. That might have narrowed the field. I'm not a proponent of shoving 20bb preflop over 2 limps; but I would probably do it with 3 limps and definitely do it with 4+.

Golden Nugget Tournament: 3 hours:
(-$165)

I would have shoved.

I think it's close, uberkuber. I've been watching a lot of Jonathan Little videos lately, and he's a proponent of playing hands from 15-20bb, instead of always going into push/fold mode. The standard raise IP should have been $2500, which is 1/4 of my stack, which is right on the line for a lot of conventional wisdom raise vs shove decisions. One more limper and the standard would've called for $3000, or 30% of my stack, which would have tipped the scales towards a shove.

I would also have shoved. Picking up 1750 + antes is a great result for you: your stack increases by ~20% if everyone folds. Getting called is obviously fine too. With AA or KK I would just raise to 2000 like you did (or maybe 2250), expecting that my opponents are too braindead to notice what I'm doing.

I shove too, but I haven't played an MTT in 3 years

Shoving is fine, especially since we know the results, but without that I narrowly prefer a call for the reasons in my above post.

Here's one that I may have screwed up. I'll hit it with some math when I get home.

I'm down to $140 from my original $200 New Years Roll, trying to make some magic happen.

UTG opens for $10, MP calls, BTN calls, and I find J9 in the SB. That's near the bottom of my range in this spot, and I prefer to be in the BB to close the action. I glance at BB and infer that he has zero interest in the hand. I call.

(Pot $42) - 4 players.

Flop: QT9

I check, UTG--who covers me--bets $25, two folds to me and I shove. My thoughts were that I didn't want to call this shallow, and I didn't want to fold.

Horrible call pre with a speculative trouble hand in the worst position with only 70 bb's to start. Why is it horrible? Cause it leads to lots of flops where you'll have reverse implied odds. And when you flop well, it will be difficult to extract max value cause you are out of position.

I hate to be brutally honest with you but if you are actually trying to play poker full time, you need to be buying in full, topping off asap and putting in the hours.

I disagree. It's low in my range but far from horrible. It's a good enough implied odds hand multiway down to about 60bb when I'm closing the action.

The smaller stack, as I've carefully explained upthread, is a temporary gimmick designed to bring a little fun to the game for me for a short period of time, and no more than a blip on long term EV.