Back for Day Two in Venetian Main Event

Don't have a lot of time to write this morning....errr...afternoon. Finally got a good night of sleep, with the aid of Doctor Ambien. And with the benefit of maintenance fixing the curtains in my room at Venetian so they would shut, turning my room into the dark cave I require for deep, uninterrupted sleep!

Yesterday was an incredibly long, 11-level grind...with a lot of excellent players on both of my tables. As always, Main Events always bring out the best players...thus, the necessity to make as few critical errors as possible is magnified.

I started out hot, turning 20k into 24k by the first break. The next two levels were disastrous, as I fell as low as 3500 in Level 3. But patience, and a few lucky breaks...saw me rebound, where I hovered around 8k for a good while. Finally caught a CDU when I got AA for the first of three times. All three times I got them I either limped in first position or flatted behind a raiser, and in all occasions got paid off handsomely. It's kind of how I have decided to ALWAYS start playing AA to get the full value from the hand, being open to the possibility of folding them if necessary.

I have quite a bit to write about...but not the time. We are back at 2pm...which is in about 15 minutes. One good bit of news is that we are moving back into the Venetian...so the walk won't be nearly as far. I bagged up 46,000 chips last night...and we go back at 800/1600 I think. Here is the chip counts and table draws...as released by Venetian this morning.

Not sure how well that came through. It looked pretty small on my end. One guy who didn't make it out of Day 1...and who I had a basically useless conversation with after the first break, was Matt Stout. That little troll who has been bashing me behind my back all over America...and who I promised to punch in the mouth the first time I saw him. Well, I decided to take the high road, and give him an opportunity to 'discuss' his issues with me like a man...and possibly hash shit out. Didn't happen. Instead he just stood there, with this smug smirk on his face...that I wanted to just wipe off with the backside of my hand. There is no reasoning with that twerp. So when I watched him get up and leave after running out of chips, it gave me a small semblance of satisfaction.

Okay...thats it. Gotta run. First place is $140k. The money hits at 27...and pays a little over $6k. Not interested in that number. Won't even get me to even on the trip. Nope...final table or bust for this Monkey!!!

MONK

Overdue? I know! Lay Off!

As most of you longtime readers are aware, every time I am in Vegas...things just run out of control and get away from me. It's not like Tunica...where all you have to worry and/or fret over is your latest bad beat, or housekeeping once again forgetting to make up your room. Where a memorable moment is valet bringing your car around in under 15 minutes.

Yeah. This is Vegas. Shit is happening...constantly. Just the walk from my hotel room to the casino is a constant adventure. Depending on how your day is going...you allow yourself the opportunity to really delve into the mindset of the people you pass on the sidewalk. 'Where is this guy from?' ' What does this guy do for a living?' 'Who told that woman she should wear that hideous outfit?'

Yesterday I was walking, face buried in my iPhone, searching for the next good song, and inadvertently kicked this guy's handiwork into a million pieces. Yeah..this dirty, scruffy-faced hippie-looking dude was sitting in the middle of the sidewalk out front of Harrah's and was taking palm tree fronds and turning them into flowers or something. Then trying to sell them.  So his shit went everywhere...and I got screamed at, not knowing what I had done. Whoops. Fortunately a riot was avoided when I merely apologized to the guy.

So much has happened out here on the felt its literally a nightmare to keep up with. Last night...I played the 7pm $175 tourney. I think there was 82 players. We got down to 4-handed at 2am. We played two hours without losing a single person. Jeezuz. A chop was never discussed. Old guy shoves with Q10, gets called by young kid who looks like Worm (Ed Norton) from 'Rounders' with 88....and rivers a damn 10. If he doesn't hit that river...he busts in 4th...which was a difference of $500. But if we'd gotten 3-handed, I'm almost positive we would have done a 3-way chop for about $3k each and called it a night.

But why would anything every go 'right' on this effing trip? How is it that I now have 14 cashes on this trip out west...and am down overall? Pretty simple. I keep making the money but not finishing in the top three. Except for those two nightly's at Caesar's...but who cares? Well last night would end the same way. I had a dealer push in who spent 30 long minutes giving me nothing...I mean NOTHING...like 2-8, 3-9, J-2, 4-9...over and over and over....and my stack went from formidable, to pathetic. He left. I got a hand to 3-bet...and climbed back into contention. Then 'Worm' raises me...with Q-8. I shove all in with A-4. He calls. Feeling pot committed, which I thought was kind of a joke...but whatever. Everything was groovy on the flop and turn...but the Q on the river put me on spin cycle. Oh...$1097 for that 9 hours of grinding? Marvelous.

Went back to hotel. Slept 4 hours. Packed up shit. Taxied it to Venetian. Left bags with concierge. With the plan to either win the mega and get a room...or lose the mega...go collect my bags...and head to the airport for my 11:30pm flight home. Things got a little turned around. Why? Two reasons. (a) I'm stubborn as shit. (b) I was pissed off as hell and (c) I wasn't going home a quitter.

Need clarity? Of course you do. The first mega ended badly. Today was so long I honestly don't even remember how I lost. So I wander over to Venetian (the tourneys are all being held at Palazzo) to find a possible SNG. Ah ha! Found one. But its a pricey one. A $540. For two entries into the main event. I entered. Struck up a $100 last longer with 6 players. Won a couple of hands early. Stuck to my 'system' in deep structured SNG's (5,000 starting chips, 20 minute levels) of sitting around folding...only playing top 10 hands...and letting the shit players bleed away all their chips playing garbage hands.

That is precisely what occurred. Then when we got to 4 handed, I started putting my foot on the gas...and pretty soon I was 2nd in chips. We got to 3-handed. Could smell the win. And a night of doing nothing involving poker. Maybe a good dinner. A good night of sleep for sure. Seat in the main locked up. You know? The dream scenario. Scratch that.  Douchebag guy who had the chiplead had no interest in doing any kind of deal. Me and the other lady...who I had covered by 2k, wanted to just give him $2500...while her and I split up the rest. No big deal. But he was being a typical jerkoff...not realizing that we were offering him exactly what he was going to win anyway. 

So what happens? Obviously...he fucks me up. I raise in the SB with A3s. He calls with QJc..admittedly a decent hand. The flop comes 2c-4h-6c. Pretty nice flop. But I know if I check, he will shove. Its one thing to check, thinking a guy will just bet...so you can shove on him and induce him to fold. But when the guy just blasts his whole stack...it kind of stifles your options, now you have to decide whether to call and hope you either 'get there' or are already good and need to fade something. So what did I do? I shoved all in. He thinks about it...and calls with his club draw. 

He turns a damn Q. Shit...so I need a 5 or an ace. I do get an ace on the river. The ace of clubs. FUCK ME! Busto. I got up. Walked outside. And went mental. Throwing my hat, kicking it all over the courtyard out there while tourists were watching the crazy guy flipping out. I entertained thoughts of swan diving into the moat and just drowning myself. Yeah...it's safe to say I was just a bit pissed off.

I gathered myself...went back inside, collected my shit...and made my way back to the Palazzo side to play the 4pm mega. Things started well. Only problem...I kept getting moved. Three times in 2 levels. A hand here, a hand there...managing to cling to the average. Then with a limper, a raiser, and me shoving all in with 99...I run into AK..and actually beat it, for a double up. We got down to 12 away from the seat...and I was really starting to think I was going to knock this thing down.

Then two things happened. Understand...I was just moved to this table...so when this joker went all in for 2800 (at 200/400) under the gun, and I looked down at A10d...I wasn't sure what I wanted to do with it. I mean A10 is far from a power house hand...especially in middle position. So I folded. the big blind goes ahead and calls with KQ. Wanna guess the other guy's hand? He had kings. Good fold, right? Guess what the flop was? 10-A-10. No bullshit. And yeah, I told them my folded hand before the flop...so half the table turned in my direction and kind of mocked me. Fuckers. A jack on the river made the guy with the KK a bad beat loser to the KQ. And my potential monster pot never happened.

New guy comes to table. He looks like Evil Santa. No...seriously. Imagine if Santa decided to quit being Santa. Stopped bathing. Forgot about grooming his beard and hair. Quit letting Mrs. Claus clean his clothes. Started drinking heavily...walking around with a chewed up straw hanging out of his mouth. This was the new guy in seat 4. Asian lady limps in for 1200. She did that a lot. I already hated this lady...from a hand earlier, where she limped in UTG with fucking K7 offsuit...and on a flop of 9-4-2 (all diamonds) and me holding 9-4 in the BB...I check, she bets 1500...I decide NOT to raise...just to get a look at the turn (fading another diamond, hoping for a 9 or a 4) and call. The turn was a 7. Not a diamond. I bet 3500. She calls. River is a non-diamond King. I check, she bets 4k. I call. FUCK ME.

So yeah...she limps again...for 1200 again. I look down at 10-10 and make it 5000. I have 15,000 behind...and the blinds are about to go to 800/1600. It was the last hand before break. It folds to Evil Santa...and he INSTANTLY shoves all in for 22,000. It was one of those 'Oh, I think he has AK' shoves. Or 'maybe' pocket jacks. So I sat there...thinking...and the whole time...Evil Santa was staring at me...with this sinister glare...refusing to blink. Or avert his gaze. Just staring at me. What the fuck. Does he WANT a call? Is he trying to scare me into folding? Is it AK? Is it JJ? Could it be 99? Shit. Do I want to fold, and come back from break with 10 BB's? Or do I want to gamble that I'm good...and double up...and coast to the seat? I decide to call.

Fuck! He has jacks. Dammit. And I get zero help from the dealer. In fact...with three clubs on the turn...I only had ONE out going to the river...since he had a club. Marvelous. I lose. Shit. What to do. What to do? Its now 8:30pm. I have a flight at 11:30. The last mega just started at 8pm. There is 110 players. I'm starving. I'm depressed. And pissed. And lonely...and missing my wife and dogs. But I also feel like I can't leave now. I can't NOT take that final shot. Because I got a baby...Miss Carley Grace on the way...who is going to change my life. I need to put myself in position to make enough money so I can not be mentally tormented by financial needs. Squirrel is going to be out of work for 10 weeks after we have the baby. Someone has to pay the bills. I feel like I've been playing some of my best poker of my career. I have more cashes at this point of the year as I ever have in my career. And I expect a solid turnout of 200-250 for the Main at Venetian...and not playing it would really stick in my craw.

So I walked over...and bought in. Then I went to Grand Luxe and ordered the super-healthy Wild Mushroom Veggie burger...that I've had about 12 times on this trip...and went to my seat. You only get 5000 chips to start.

(super kick ass diet update! On January 9th, I stepped on Barth Melius' scale in his bathroom after the BCS title game and read 265 lbs! Two days ago...I stepped on scale and looked down at 245! Holy freaking cow! I've lost 20 lbs in 5 weeks??? Sweet! My goal was 35 lbs by April 26th when Carley arrives. I might just make it! Feels good, really good!)

On the first hand...cutoff raises to 325 (at 50/100). The SB calls, and I call with A3. the flop comes 2-4-6. Wow. There are two diamonds. I have the ace of diamonds. Now, early in a tourney...I often times elect NOT to get after pots too much...not if its going to cost a large percentage of my stack. It's easier, I find...to get into pots on the cheap, and hope to flop big, then manipulate weaker opponents into juicing the pot for me. Small ball. But for some reason...probably the fact that we didn't have a lot of chips to fuck around with....I decided I was going for the jugular early in this tournament. I check the flop...and the original raiser makes it 750. Wow. So we already have 1725 in the pot...before I even act. The SB folds. Hmm...what to do, what to do. Can't really re-raise to 2100...that would be stupid, and leave me with just 2600. And if I do re-pop it and he shoves...what do I do then?

So I spent quite a lot of time doing some Jedi mind-fucking of this guy...counting my chips, analyzing his stack...gazing at the pot. Then finally I ship all in. He hesitates, then shrugs and calls. Turns over KQd. Ah. Flush draw. But hey! I'm ahead. Turn, brick. River, brick! Monkey has chips. Very next hand...idiot from the $550 SNG...who was easily the worst player I have ever seen get to four-handed in a SNG...had somehow managed to accumulate a lot of chips early.  Well I knew this guy sucked...so calling his bets didn't require a lot of effort. I get into a hand 6-handed with A8. The flop comes 8-6-4. SB bets 300. Doofus calls 300. I raise it to 1200. Everyone folds around to doofus, who calls. The turn is a 7. Ugh. He checks. I bet 1800. He flats. Hmmm. The river is a 4. Now he fires out 3000. That makes no sense. I mean if he had 3-5...then he played it pretty good. But I just don't feel that. I call. He turns over fucking K-7. Huh? People at the table are making that face...you know the one? That...."did that really just happen?" face! I gratefully raked another huge pot...and now, suddenly I had over 16k. Sweet. 

Two hands later...there is a limp for 200. Followed by 6 calls. Yeah. SIX! I look down at 10-10 in the BB...and seeing that 3 of the callers are fucking maniacs I'm familiar with, who will never fold to any raise under 1000 right here...and since I have everyone covered 3 times over...I just decide to shove it. No one calls. Check that...one guy was already all in for 300 I guess. He had 2-7s. Nice hand. I flop a set. He loses. I continue to stack chips.

Honestly, I never really got in trouble during the entire satellite/tournament. And those make for really nice experiences. I had JJ Liu at my table most of the night...and we both know each other well, so there is a lot of mutual respect between the two of us. And since it was a Mega...which always plays a bit differently, we kind of stayed out of trouble with each other. She really played well...getting short a few times, but clawing back in. Then Kenna James came to our table...and Kenna and I have always gotten a long really well. I like Kenna, he is a nice guy with a colorful personality. He made one pretty big fold to me, when I raised UTG with 10-10 and he found AdQd in the SB...and just decided to fold. I'm glad. Hate that race. He would end up winning a seat. As would JJ.

In a interesting twist...the pain in the ass who had been bullying our first table with his constant 6x raises and over-shoves against other raisers....and who used to be married to JJ (his name is Dan something) would end up bubbling...losing with A8s vs. KQ. So yeah...sometime around 2am we were finally done. Seat, locked up. And once again...not sure why I always run so effing bad when it comes to seat assignments, I managed to procure seat 1. I hate seat 1. But at least I have a seat...right?

So I am shacked up in a room at Venetian...and excited as I always am the night before a Main Event...with the anticipation of what lies ahead. It's been a weird trip. Lots and lots of deep runs...that almost all have ended in some brutal suckout right before the money started to get what we determine to be 'good' in this 'poker for a living' lifestyle of ours. I just hope I can run good tomorrow, get to Day 2...and put myself into position for a decent finish. Can go home with my head held high. Can go to the bank and make a damn DEPOSIT for a change!

I know this blog post was mostly poker-related...and that is out of the ordinary. Sorry. I really have a ton of funny pictures and videos and stories saved up...but I have to get to sleep...and I don't want this to drag on too long. I celebrated my 45th birthday on Thursday night...and it was a fun night, I have to admit. Tequila was involved, and yes...the next day I was told of things I didn't recall. The good news was that I called Kathy Raymond, the poker room manager and informed her that people were sending me shots of tequila for my birthday. She expressed gratitude that I was 'keeping her in the loop' since I have voluntarily agreed not to consume alcohol while playing at Venetian events. She wished me a Happy Birthday...and it kind of made me feel like I could have a good time without having to look over my shoulder all night. 

I received an amazing amount of Facebook birthday greetings, and I sat and responded to every single one of them. That kind of made my day. Hell...once I turned 40, birthdays kind of became more of a 'count-down-to-death' event every year....rather than something to celebrate and party over.

If you would like to know what exactly I was doing to these things, I can't tell you.

Ever have a thought that you are about to share? But then something happens, like your phone rings? Or someone asks you a question? And suddenly, it breaks your train of thought...and you just lose it? Well, that is what just happened to me right here. I had something very profound and/or succinct to share with you...and now, suddenly, NOTHING. And it's pissing me off. Kind of.

Wanna see a funny video? About a guy who made a video about stupid things you see at the poker table? Well good...I am going to share it with you here. Wanna know what is about to be coming your way? A video of my own. Along the same lines...but what I think will be even more funny. And creative. And crude. With plenty of berating of imaginary players. For those familiar with me...you can only imagine how sweet this video will turn out. One of the things I have been entertaining is doing Vblogs...or 'Video Blogs'...wherein, I somehow record little mini-rants...or mini-diatribes about certain topics...and then attempt to edit them down...and include them on my blog. Problem is, I have no idea how to do this so that it appears to be even kind of presentable. But oh...yeah...check this out. It's pretty hilarious...and so true in a lot of cases.

Like this video? Well, then you will love this one...shot by me. During a break. The FIRST break...yeah, two hours into the tournament. Were people laughing? Uh...well, yeah. Of course they were. But more importantly, they were asking each other...."what the fuck is that guy doing!????" It's the perfect video for a caption contest.

Okay...that's all folks. No comments about Jeremy Lin...and ESPN's witty 'Chink In The Armour' comment. No thoughts on the funeral of Whitney Houston...or Bobby Brown getting run from the procession. Not gonna climb up on my soapbox about Syria...and the madness on that side of the world, including Iran's joke of a Navy trying to flex it's muscles in the Mediterranean. Not gonna bitch and moan about my NBA fantasy team going to shit since Zach Randolph and Andrea Bargnani of Toronto went down with injuries. No more political thoughts on why we seem to have a new 'frontrunner' in the Republican race every month. I guess this month its now Rick Santorum. Are these guys fully aware that they have almost NO chance of unseating Barack this fall? Its almost laughable that they are raising all this money just so they can lose.

GOOD NIGHT BOYS AND GIRLS.

MONKEY

Get Ready to Die...Zombie Mutants!!!

Today, I am going to ignore the negative. Did I just pull another 0-fer yesterday? And the day before? And the day before? Maybe. Maybe not. I'm not going there. I am also NOT going to address the death of Whitney Houston. Too early. And too sad. Not going to talk about my hotel switch due to my becoming an official 'resident' in the eyes of Las Vegas law...which apparently happens after 28 days in the same hotel.

I refuse to address the insanity of the retard running the poker room at IP during graveyard...or the front desk's inability to answer the phone...EVER. Won't talk about why Subway at Casino Royale always closes every night between 2:23am and 2:45am because their 'systems are down.' Won't babble on about how my lovely wife is up in North Alabama today for her first of two Mega Baby Showers for Carley Grace...who is already the most spoiled child to ever not even be born yet.

I won't even talk about my decision to take my diet up a notch...by deciding to go on a self-imposed hunger strike until I make it back to a final table. ANY final table. No...sit n go's do NOT count. Not that it matters, since SNG's seem to have vanished from the face of poker. FML.

Nope, today I shall talk about me and Wonky's grudge match with the poker world. I like to call them Mutants. She prefers Zombies. She harbors the same disdain for OMRG's and OLRG's...in fact, she coined the phrase. Yes, I will give her creative credit. Here is Wonky...after her devastating victory in the nightly at Venetian three nights ago. And two days before she did me the pleasure of doing my laundry!

My alter ego in crushing souls

Today at Caesar's at 4pm (22 minutes for those scoring at home) is the Valentine's him/her team Mutant Destruction tournament. We contemplated going to buy T-shirts...to wear as a team. A little something like this.

But since we are both lazy sloths, who like to sleep in...we didn't make THAT happen. You've heard me talk about Wonky before. She is the one who is married to the F-15 fighter pilot. Who bitches, whines and rants about other players better/worse than I do. The one who when I'm running like shit I can go to that will actually make me feel normal, and sometimes better. She is without a doubt one of the better female players I know...which should make us a powerful duo today as we take on whatever the poker world decides to throw at us.

Yeah....bring it on...suckers! While the one teammate is playing in the tourney during his/her 15 minute 'shift' they will be running a parallel cash game table...where we are able to play out of the same stack. I am honestly looking forward to a day of crushing souls...and dreams...and having the joy of doing it with a friend who can derive the same amount of joy from it.

This should be the look on my face....ALL DAY...as I wreak havoc on all the opposing players. I really hope we make the final table...because holy crap...its been two days since I ate...and I am freaking STARVING!!!!!

Okay...gotta go.  Oh...props to Justin Booth for his CHOP/CHOP-SHIP/SHIP in the big 600+ two day tourney at Venetian. Special thanks to Brett Allelo for shipping me (overnight) his miracle Kidney Stone evaporating pills from Louisiana (effectively the ONLY good thing to SHOW UP from Louisiana this year so far!) along with a special gift of beef jerky!

MONKEY

It Won't Be Long....Promise

Fresh off yet another min-cash last night in the 3pm $150 bounty tourney...which of course I had to re-buy/re-enter in after my KK succumbed to JJ in Level 3....and after having bought in TWICE for the $500k Guarantee two-day event...with a $350 buy in...I head back today to play Day 1B of that same damn event trying to make it to Day 2 and a 'decent' cash on this year of nothing but min-cashes so far. I think I am up to 12 cashes now, but the biggest one is for $3700.

Yes, my Super Bowl prediction fell flat for the first time in three years...though if things break right...as they should have, my predicted score of 27-21 New England would have been pretty damn close, as it would have likely ended up 24-21. Whatever. Congrats to all you Giant fans. I did have kind of an epic day in Super Bowl Squares. Granted, I did invest $3200 throughout 9 boards...but I managed to win $4000. So it was a win, overall. Never got my wager in at the window...because the sportsbook here at Riviera is a bit, ahem...to put it politely, S-L-O-W.

I've got some great photos to share. And a couple videos. And some fun stories. But I don't have time to share them all because, as usual I am running late. But that might be a good thing...running late means I get to miss the cooler beats...and hypothetically, the urge to rebuy before the break. Getting pretty sick of that shit. The fields at Venetian are starting to pick up a little. But there are still NO sit n gos being run...so if you don't cash deep in a tourney to keep your bankroll sustained...you are playing catch up and burning a hole in that roll. Case in point: Senor Monkey.

My boy Banger arrived from Canada two nights ago...and is celebrating his isolation from years of being pent up in the icy north. He played for 12 hours yesterday...after also having rebought...only to bust in the last half hour of the night. That friggin blows. And I finished 10th out of 157 mutants in the $150 bounty tourney that started at 3. I collected 6 bounties for $150...and when my AK couldn't connect against JJ...I left with another $355 whopping dollars. Oh boy. Huge score.

Eric Baldwin a.k.a 'Basebaldy' reached out to me on Twitter...and when I did that 'follow' thing, he sent me a link he thought might really help me a lot. Apparently, he bought and read this book... 'The Power of Now' awhile back and said it helped him tremendously. So...I thanked him for the recommendation and purchased it on iBooks, so I can read it on my iPad. So now I have another book in my virtual library to keep me busy on...in my efforts to improve on myself.

Okay...gotta hit and run...just didn't want anyone thinking I died. I didn't...just feel like I did about once a day. 

MONKEY

Disappointing Final Table Outcome....

Well, the devastating assault on min-cashing continues. And I won't lie...it's about to drive me insane. I think I have probably set a record for most cashes in a month...oh wait, I guess now it's February...so we will just say most cashes in a 30-day period. But the biggest amount won was $3900. I think I am up to 10 cashes on this road trip...and I am actually down money for the trip. Yep. Factor in all those other buyins, the hotels, the food, the travel costs, and some bad cash game sessions...and it makes min-cashing all the more infuriating.

Yesterday started pretty good. I had 67,000, which was the 3rd smallest stack, but won my first hand of the day to get to 90k. Then just picked up a hand every so often...and hung around while the first two players both got knocked out. Both were knocked out holding AAxx in their hand...and having the guy make a very loose call to go runner runner both times to beat them. So, in the pit of my stomach I was kind of fearing picking up AAxx myself.

Those fears would prove to be prophetic. I had just won a big pot to climb to around 150k. The guy who kept busting people's AA hands...raised in early position to 8400. This guy is from Canada...the Yukon Territory, and had been at my table almost all of Day 1. He is very entertaining, has a sense of humor I admire, and can tell he has an IQ in the range of people I like to be friends with. He was the last person I wanted to take a bad beat from. I look down at A-A-Q-7 double suited. No way I'm not potting there. I do...making it 34k I think was the total. He grins, looks at me, then his cards...I don't think there is ANY way he is calling me. He had been respecting my raises the whole tourney.

But for some reason, he decides not to respect this one. He calls. The flop was very friendly for my hand...rainbow flop with only two connected cards. I didn't hit anything and figured I was still ahead with my aces. I'd seen him lead out big a couple times when he was doing so to get the other to fold what he assumed was AK-something. But I had aces. And when he potted it on the flop, I figured he was doing the same thing. He was...because when I announced all in he uttered that phrase we all hate...."You're ahead...sure hope I catch up."  Well he had a straight draw. And a pair of nines. The turn gave him nothing. I was one good river card away from having a mountain of chips. River brought a nine. Holy shit. I lose to trips. Son of bitch. Not again. 7th place. $1100. Big deal. SHIT! It was 3:15.

I stumbled out of Venetian...wandering around on the streets. Walked down to Wal-Greens and picked up my Flomax prescription for my Kidney Stone issue...which hasn't gotten as bad as it did the other day, but is still there, as I continue to get lower back pain in that area every day.

Then I just decided to walk to Caesar's and see if they had a 3pm tourney I could play. They did. $70. Oh boy. 33 players. I sat there, kind of just numb, and not talking to anyone. I kept getting hands. And mowing people. Before I knew it...we were at the final table, and I was chipleader. Whoops. First was $660...and another cute medallion. Well, might as well win this.

You know...its really weird to sit in a tourney...say a $550 with players you know are talented poker players, then sit in a $70 tourney with players who are absolutely clueless. I mean there are such exploitable ways to extract money from those lousy players that rarely occur in tourneys against good players. But it also presents a Catch 22 in that bluffing is incredibly tough, almost impossible, and unpredictable plays, lacking in total logic will come along that leave you shaking your head like you spent the day at the lake and can't get the water out of your right ear.

I'll cut to the chase. We got to 3 players, and I had a sizable disadvantage chip-wise. But this old guy...yes, another OMRG...was asking for a 5-way chop of $495 each. Personally, I didn't care either way, I was still in mourning over not winning the 8k in the Omaha tourney...and the $14k and $16k from the other two tourneys when I got clothes-lined near the finish line. But since I really like playing 3-handed, both because I think I'm the best player in that situation, and also because I like the practice for future tourneys when I might not be. So I suggested we just play it out. So after about 30 minutes I had the chip lead...with 45% of the chips in play. OMRG had about 40% and 'the kid' had the other 15% and was running out of time.

CUE: 'The Play.'  Seems to always happen when you are dealing with an OMRG. I failed to mention that OMRG was showing a card every hand. OMRG's tend to do this a lot. Not sure why. But they do. And on this particular hand, he flashed the 8 of hearts. He limps for 2000. Which prompted 'the kid' to call the 2000. I look down at A10s. Even if OMRG has 88, I still have two overs, and am suited, so I'm not that big of an underdog. If he just has 8-x then I really love my hand. So I raise it to 12,000. He babbles something incoherently, probably something about having to get to the RV park to meet with his wife for bingo night...then proclaims "Well, I guess I just have one move here" and shoves all in. WTF? I have him covered, but just barely...and having seen his 8 there is no way I am folding now.

I call..and as soon as I do so, he pops out "Well, you are way ahead!!!" Yeah, kind of thought that...but what the hell are you doing making that play knowing (or, well...he SHOULD be knowing) that I can't really fold to any re-shove? Just stupid. But stupid is a foe I cannot defeat. He turns over 5-8. Oh it was suited, I know this is important. I flop two spades. He flops a five. All I need is a spade, an ace or a ten...and this thing is all but over. Forget it. It holds. I lose on the next hand. Out 3rd...for $330. Oh boy. Whatever.

Saunter over to O'Sheas...walk in to Subway, order another vegetable patty sandwich...which comes in at around 180 calories...and sit there eating it watching the drunk tourists playing Beer Pong. It's funny and sad both. The women get so drunk, that you just watch them...eyes rolling into the back of their heads, hair getting messed up...stumbling on their high heels. The guys get shit-faced and it becomes a contest of who can yell the loudest, who can dole out the most high-fives. I sit there looking at them...wondering what they do for a living. Wondering where they live. What a 'day-in-the-life' consists of. I am an admitted people watcher...and the older I get, the more disillusioned I become with the status quo in our society. There are some people who just find joy and happiness in every moment of their day. I'm not that person. I tend to cruise around noticing nothing but things I find ridiculous. I know there are people like me, who think like me. I like those people. We have things in common. We laugh at the same things.

I don't think there is anything more annoying than that person who vilifies you for making fun of someone who desperately NEEDS to be made fun of. Sorry, but if people aren't 'with it' enough to leave their house demonstrating something about themselves that is begging people to laugh at...well, sorry, but that has to make them somewhat accountable. "Its not nice to laugh at people!"  "It's not nice to make people have to look at something so laughable!"

Oh. I played the 7pm at Caesar's too. Got AA early and played it like a master...clipping two players and gaining a lot of chips. I then proceeded to play like shit. Kind of tried to run over the table, and in a nightly with  newbies...not a good idea. I would fold to two bets I probably should have called, then called the one I should have folded. Yeah...I played bad. You heard me say it.

Played cash for an hour...losing $180...then deciding to play (why? Cuz I'm stupid) the 10pm tourney again...$85...going for back-to-back wins in that. Started pretty good. Then just sat there patiently. Guy limped utg. I raised with 66. He called. The flop comes K-J-6. Nice! I check, he checks. Turn is an ace. He bets 1000. I raise to 2500. He calls. The river is an ace. hmmm...full house. Nice. I bet. He raises. What? Smell a bad beat coming. I go all in, he snap calls and turns over AK. No way. Kidding me? Nope, not kidding. I was done. Left Caesars. Took a cab to my room, and crashed. I have been sleeping on and off all day.

No idea what I am doing tomorrow for the Super Bowl. I always put in a play of some sort when I am in Vegas...having done very well the past two seasons. Well...here comes my Super Bowl prediction.

NEW ENGLAND PATRIOTS 27

NEW YORK GIANTS            21

I will most likely be betting the Patriots and the Under.

My Super Bowl Squares are nearly done. I have filled one $100 board...and have sold 70 of the 100 in the 2nd board. In the $50 boards, I have filled one board, and have only 10 squares left on the 2nd board. The #4 and #5 $25 boards are getting close to being full too. I suspect I will get the usual avalanche of square buys on game day. If you want an invite to buy a square or ten...shoot me an email at ThePoolMonkey@aol.com. 

Okay...I'm going back to sleep. Blogging has made me tired. It's 9:20pm here in Vegas. I am still accepting invitations to 'can't miss' Super Bowl Party invitations for tomorrow's game.

Monkey

FINAL TABLE today at 2pm

Well, here we go, another chance for victory and a 'decent' score. As is the case with almost all Omaha tourneys, there isn't a 'monster' score attached, but with 85 players buying in for $350 each...I would happily take close to $9,000 with a smile on my face. In addition to that...they have a cash prize for the all-around tourney performer for every Venetian Deepstacks event. Some of you might recall, I won the All Around title back in the summer of 2008. 

I have now put up two cashes...a 12th and a 14th this week, and then wherever I finish today...so I would have to think I am at least in the Top Ten, maybe higher. Two days ago, in the $350 noon tourney, with 246 players...I got into the money, then got my QQ to hold up all in, three-handed...and grew my stack to twice the average. Things were looking great. That's when disaster hit. This clown who had been taking out one player after another and growing his stack to about 600k (I had about 160k) was not too big on 3-betting. He was fond of the 'grab a stack of blue chips' and just raise in a fashion that was saying "I'll put you all in!"

I hate these guys. They pay no attention whatsoever to stack management. Nor do they ever give their opponents credit for a hand. What those idiots usually do, is donk off their monster stacks. I see it all the time. So when I raised with AK...and this jagoff start making that motion where they want you to move your arms so they can see your chips...I had a feeling I knew what was coming...and it did. 

"I'll put you all in."  Okay. I called. He turns over AQ. And I never, ever feel GOOD about ANY hand before the flop comes...but at least I had him dominated. Well the flop came Q-10-5....lovely. Jack please? Or a king? No? Not on the turn? Or the river? I'm out? Really? I won how much? $900? Awesome.

So what did I do with that $900? I started walking towards Venetian...which would lead to the street...and then to my hotel. But instead, I see Chris Lindh and his lovely girlfriend Annette at a 1/2 table, and decide to sit and play with them for a little while.

One little problem here. Also at the table is 'Randy.' Randy is, to put it politely, my Dealer-o-Death. It's self-acknowledged. He even encouraged me NOT to sit down at the table with him there. So I have no one to blame for the first hand I played but myself.

Someone makes it $8. I call with K10s. The flop? Oh just a ten...which was top pair...AND a flush draw. There was a bet. Then a call. And another call. I raise it a little. Two callers. Turn is a blank. It checks to me. I bet big. The first guy goes all in. I call. Now I am rooting like hell for a spade on the river. I GET THE SPADE on the river....turn over my hand, and this guy shows AJs. Oh my god. Guess I didn't want the spade after all...my ten would have been good. I push my whole stack of $300 over to this guy, Randy buries his face in shame...I rebuy for $300. Which I did one more time...losing all three buyins. Yes...for the 14 hours I grinded to win $900, I sat there and lost it all in three hours of cash game. Pretty damn brilliant, huh?

So I went back the next day to play again in the nooner. I walk in at 1:45 (standard arrival time for me this trip)...sit down...wait for the big blind so I can play. First hand...nothing. Second hand...with 10c7c...the board comes JcQc9c...yeah, we will call that a good flop. One other guy has K10h....flopped a straight...and the other guy had 2c5c. I would get all his chips, and 4k of the other guys'...and that was how I started. I turned my 10k starting stack into 24k by the break. 

After break, this lovely Asian dealer arrived. Cue the 'Asian Dealer Disaster.' Flopping two pair, losing. Flopping top pair with flush draw. Losing. Flopping open ended...brick bricking two or three times. I was losing my mind. And my chips. When we finally broke that table I was down to 11k. New table...pick up JJ...re-raise an aggressive early raiser of 700 (with another caller) to 2200...get called by both of them...and flop A-J-Q rainbow. Went ahead and bet out 4000 on that flop. They folded...and I had a bunch of my chips back.

Things would go pretty smooth for the few levels. Until I ran into 'Mr. Stupid.' Now let me explain yesterday. Since I had almost no sleep, I had opted to take an adderal, and it was working wonders. I was alert, I was feeling peppy, I was in the zone where I was dropping lots of funny one-liners and had the table having fun. With the exception of Mr. Stupid in the 3-seat. Not much came out of him...no words, no emotion. Nothing. He has no neck. And he had yet to demonstrate very much in the way of being a player with any high degree of skill. Meanwhile, every hand I was winning I was showing...I like to do that a lot, especially early. Why? I like to plant the mental seed in people's heads, that when I raise...I always have a top ten hand. Makes it a lot easier when I need to pick up pots with 3 or 4-bet raises late in tourneys when I might be sitting on a semi average or below average stack. 

So...when I raised with JJ...from 300-600 to 2200, and the only reason I raised 2200 was because it was the third hand in a row that I had raised...previously with A10d and AQh...just figured I would keep my raise the same. Now, if a guy who had been showing you nothing but top ten hands all day raised your big blind...and you looked down at Q5s...what would you do? Don't be shy.

Well, when you are dealing with a guy who doesn't even know who dressed him that morning...where he found the money to buy in...or which bathroom to walk in when he gets to the restroom...how can you take offense to anything he would do with the two cards in front of him? I mean...seriously? Why do 'us' players ever expect any of these 'mutants' to make decisions that would make sense to us? Shouldn't we expect them to do something totally fucked up that makes us want to take a metal pole, walk over to a bank of slot machines...and just start smashing the shit out of them?

So when I raised with JJ...and 'The Buffoon' called with Q5...I don't know why I should have been surprised when the flop came 5-5-6. And when he check raised me all in, and later asked me "What you were thinking when I re-raised you!??" I couldn't fold. My reply to him was "Well, my problem was that I was actually giving you credit for knowing what you were doing...you know, for having a shred of skill...that perhaps you merely 'put me on' a big ace, and that I was just making a standard C-bet...and that you were making a play back at me. However, what I didn't realize, is that you do NOT have that shred of skill, that you merely decided to flat me with a Nostradamus-like prediction that you would miraculously flop trips and derail another quality player...on the way to donking off your chips eventually and finishing no where NEAR the money. So yeah...stupid me. Good game."

And that concluded my experience in the nooner. I would later check back to see where Jabba the Donk and my chips were doing. Oh...he was nowhere to be found. What a shocker. I might have to change my view on his stupid suckout though, since getting knocked out when I did allowed me to get into the 'Triple Barrel' Pot Limit Omaha tournament at the last second. They had just gone on break.

I sat down with 12k. I was murdering every flop. Stacking, stacking, stacking...then making a huge call on a three way all in, featuring my buddy (sarcasm OBV) Gary Bolden and another player...where I had a pair with an open ended straight draw...win the hand and I had a HUGE stack...or lose it and still have 22k. I went for it. I was up against a bigger straight draw...whoops and can't remember what Gary had...but I turned trips...then rivered the low end of the straight...the only straight I could hit...and knocked out both players...and watched my stack grow to over 50k. I would get to as high as 60k when the average was only 15k...then sat there losing almost every hand for three levels.

I got down to below average when we had 27 players left and was getting pretty nervous. But one monster bluff pulled me a much needed pot, then I got my A-A-K-10 to hold up against an all in re-raisers K-K-J-J to get to a good stack. 

Holy shit! Its 1:20. And I haven't showered! I gotta get outa here! And I haven't even told you about OMRG and his nearly disastrous busting of my A-A-hands twice in a row to take me from 100k to only 22k. I walked to the other side of the casino and nearly picked up an ATM machine and heaved it.

OMRG in the HOUSE! Crushing dreams!

Well, I would recover...and when we brushed to 10 players...which by the way, they forced us to play on one of those damn stud-like mini tables...when we were completely surrounded by full size tables, and had all the players EXTREMELY irritated...he was still there. And I was dreaming of getting my chips back.

I will cut to the chase. OMRG was the bubble, as we were only paying 9 players. And that put our night at the conclusion. Sweet justice.

I am listening, and have been listening to my friend Clint Tolbert's radio show (with Lance Gordon) on www.ontiltradio.com while I've been writing this blog. He had Allen Kessler on first (one of the most boring interviews of all time) and now has Maria Ho on with her ventriloquistic friend Tiffany "Wish Her 15 Minutes Would Hurry Up and Expire" Michelle and listening to her praddle on is making me throw up all over the keyboard of my laptop. I don't think I can emphasize enough how much I loathe this woman. I really like Maria. Really hate TIFF. If you want to hate her a little more than you already might, click on that link up there and listen to her...you will surely find yourself wanting to kick her in the throat.

Is that it? Yeah...it is, gotta go try to win this PLO tourney...which for the record, is only the SECOND PLO tourney I've ever played...the first one was at the Bike in LA last month, which we chopped 7-ways.

MONKEY

Bad Beat? This One is the Worst!

The worst day of my life was November 26, 2009. That was the day I woke up to a pain in my back I had never before experienced. I had no idea what was going on. That night I ended up in the emergency room in the most agonizing pain I had ever experienced. What I had just lived through was the passing of a kidney stone. The only good part of that experience was the mixture of pain killers the doctor fired into me while I waited on the stone to pass.

Leading up to this wonderful experience, I had encountered the same thing, only in milder form, in the tournament I won at Venetian in the summer, the one where I had Amarillo Slim at my table most of Day 1...and then again at the Final Table. The pain in my lower back came in waves....hurting for 30 minutes...then going away...coming back...back and forth for most of the night. When I returned on the 2nd day, it was still there but not as bad. Finally it stopped. What I think happened that first time is that I passed a very small stone.

So what the hell happened to me yesterday? I finished my blog...got on the bus, and headed for Caesar's to try one more time to win a ring and some National Freeroll points. I arrive in Level 2...and immediately noticed my lower right back hurting. Decided to take a pain killer, hoping it was just a sore back. Started chipping up, at a table of terrible players. If there was going to be a chance to win another ring, this was a very good table to be at. I picked up AA and flatted in middle position behind an early raiser, taking a gamble on someone re-raising or shoving all in behind me. Didn't happen. Instead we got three callers. No sweat...I flopped a set of aces. First guy bet. I called. Third guy called. Turn was nothing too worrisome, first guy bet, this time I raised...and the guy behind me re-raises big. Nice! First guy folds, I shove all in, and he does the Phil Helmuthian move of leaping out of his seat and shoving his chips forward, turning over A-10d...with two diamonds on the board. Uh oh.

No problem, I held. And now had a decent stack. 236 players...$17,000 for first. Let's go! Um. Never mind! False alarm. A little while later...dude raises my BB (again) from the button. The guy in the SB just calls. I call the min raise with 6-7. Flop comes 6-7-J. We both check to him. He bets 1100. SB calls. I sense that button has zilch, and SB has 45. So I re-raise it big. Button folds. SB shoves all in. Huh? Oh boy. Can't fold. He has JJ. Yeah. Jacks! And never re-raised pre-flop. Strange. Lovely, so now I am down to just 5000 at 400/800.

Spend a couple orbits getting no cards and no spot to pick up a round of blinds and antes. Finally get A10 in early position and shove. Getting a walk and picking up a much needed round.

Then this suck-the-life-out-of-me hand happens. Dude who loves to min raise does it again in early position. I look down at AJ and am getting ready to shove...when the guy behind me in SB re-raises it 3x. Son of a ......no way AJ is good here.

First guy calls...holding 88. An ace flops...and this guy in the SB (who it turns out has AQ) doesn't bet. He checks. The turn is nothing, he checks again! What the.....??? Finally, a jack hits the river. Dammit, there goes my triple up! Checks again! Then takes down MY pot!!!

I don't even get done punching myself in the face...when on the very next hand...I get AQ, with the queen of diamonds. Same guy raises again. This time I shove all in. He calls with his AJ. Okay, nice. Got him dominated. Three rag cards, ALL diamonds hit the flop. I glance at my queen of diamonds and am feeling pretty good, until I notice that he has the ace of diamonds. Oh noooooo!!! No more diamonds! Turn is a 2 of spades. Hold baby. Hold!!!!  Nope. 6 of diamonds on the river and I was gone. Shit!

On the way out of Caesar's I noticed my back hurting more and more. Damn...should I go to the hospital? At least, having gone through the experience, there is no mystery as to what is ailling me at least. I know what is going on...just wondering how extreme it is and how long I can expect the pain to last.

Why I decided to hobble over to Venetian and play the 3pm $150 Big Bounty tourney I have no freaking idea. But I did. Won my first couple of hands. Table broke...and I get moved to a table with...who else? Gary Bolden. Delightful. And on one of the first couple of orbits he raises on the button into my BB...at 200/400 makes it 1600. I call with K10. To which he immediately starts chirping.

"Nice call sir. Great call." I miss the flop. Check he bets. I fold. "Nice call...nice call."

Normally I might let this bother me...but being in the clutches of kidney stone hell, it was not even registering. I had already made some phone calls, one to a nurse here in Las Vegas, who got me in touch with a doctor. Another to my insurance company...to try and see if I could avoid the astronomical cost of the emergency room, if it came to that. Every time the button would pass me, I would go find a spot to lay down and try to will the pain away.

On one trip to the floor, something very peculiar happens. Gary 'The Terrible' comes over and checks on me, to see if I am okay. Now...talk about your mixed messages. What is he doing? Doesn't he KNOW we are sworn rivals? He so much as told me the day before that he can't stand me...and now here he is coming to check on me. Why? Dammit, why do people have to be so freaking hard to figure out sometimes? Well, I must admit, it did hit a nerve, and told me that maybe underneath all that hatefullness, there is a decent human being in there. Maybe. Or maybe it was just one of those deals where he was hoping to see me dead on the ground and wanted to be the first one to witness it.

I was now getting cold sweats, along with the back pain...and was on the verge of vomiting. Something about the human body, I've learned, you can only endure a certain amount of pain...then the body starts to convulse and then seems to resort to vomiting as some kind of self defense mechanism. Now I had security swarming me...thinking probably that I was some drunk guy passed out and needing to be evicted. I calmly explained to them my condition, that there was nothing anyone could do to help me. Then I crawled over to a garbage can and hurled. Shit!

I finally return to the table. The whole table has a look on their face of sympathy...as they all know now that I am experience the murderous pain of a kidney stone trying to pass. Some have been there, others have just heard about it.

Some dope in a Montana sweatshirt kept pushing all in, for no good reason. 600 in the pot...all in for 12k. He did this about 5 times. I was looking for any good situation to try and gamble with this guy...to either double up to a big stack...or get knocked out, so I could retreat to my hotel room, load up on pain killers, pound liter upon liter of water (to flush out the kidney stone) and crawl into my bed.

So, idiot raises to 2000 (blinds at 300/600) and I call in the SB with A9d. The lady in the BB also calls. The flop comes 9-8-5 rainbow. Perfect. I shove all in for 7200. The lady folds. And dopey insta calls, and turns over A9c. Grrr...guess its a chop...and as I am pulling my chips back from the middle, what happens? Dealer turns a club...then rivers another one...flush! And I am eliminated. Did not even flinch. In fact, I may have done a Tiger Woods-esque fist pump, excited to get out of there and get to my mancave. I made my way to the front of Palazzo, snagged a cab, and was in bed in 10 minutes. Loaded up on Vicodin, drank two liters of water...and passed out.

When I woke up at 10pm...I felt better. No pain. But after getting out of bed and walking around for awhile...I could feel that it was still there. Took another pain killer and decided to finally watch these movies I picked up from RedBox three days ago. First one...'The Ides of March' with George Clooney and that kid who is in every movie these days. Wasn't very impressed. But kind of fun to watch with the Presidential campaigns going on right now. Next up was 'Rise of Planet of the Apes.' That was a good one. Of course I love animals, so it was a bit depressing. The last one was 'The Debt' with Helen Mirren. I thought this looked really good in the trailers...and it might have been, but I kept falling in and out of sleep. It was kind of hard to keep up with. Maybe I just have too short of an attention span, or just aren't smart enough to follow it.

Just got my massive 1800+ person email out for more Super Bowl Squares....got a feeling we are going to set a record this year. Its now 12pm and I have no idea what I want to play today. Maybe that thing they run at the Wynn. I think it's $150 with $100 rebuys till the break. I like the Wynn. And its close by. The Venetian has a $440 tourney called Big Bounty. I'm not really a player who benefits from those, because I rarely bust people. I don't know, might call down and see how many players they have in that...if it's over 200 then I will likely go play that one.

I woke up this morning, and there aren't any signs of pain. Which is good, but also kind of making me nervous...because I know the pain can come and go. And in all the trips I took to the bathroom, not once did I see a stone laying in the bottom of the toilet, which tells me it is still in me somewhere...hopefully having made its way down the urethra and now sitting in my bladder, posing no threat, just waiting to be expelled. So with all that in mind...I'd maybe rather play a smaller buy in in case I have to bolt for the hospital or something. Eating a $450 buy in is a little silly.

Okay...that's all I have for you today. Three blogs in two days? You kidding me? You guys are getting spoiled. But yesterday was the biggest number of hits in one day this month....so I see you guys are paying attention at least! With one day left in the month this blog is at 5,604 hits. Do I hear 6000!??? Unlikely....but crazier things have happened.

Have a Nice Day!

MONKEY

I've Been Twit-Ripped!

What an utterly bizarre, long, annoying...stupid day today was. The best part about today, is that it's now tomorrow.

I've been motivated by three things today that having me blogging twice within a 24-hour period. The problem is that I don't know where to start.

My computer is driving me nuts. Battery won't charge. Call Dell, they take control of it...tell me everything is fine. Hang up with Dell...battery is charging. Hmmm. Okay. Later that night...stops charging. Again. WTF? Same phone call. Different outcome. They hook me for a new battery. $175. Ouch. Still waiting on battery.

Ever walk alone at night...down a dark sidewalk, and practice fight moves for when someone tries to mug you? If you don't I think you should. Always good to be prepared for the expected.

Just walked into the lobby of my hotel, the fabulous Riviera (don't laugh, the rooms are cheap and very very acceptable) and notice TBC...aka, Captain Caveman, sitting at a table. Hey now! I know half of you are dying for me to go back down there and post up. I might. But I need to get some shit off my mind first.

I did NOT win today's Omaha 8 or Better tourney. In fact, I didn't cash. About half way through it I was all in with my small blind...and made a monster come back...only to be dispatched when...as seems to happen a lot, the same dealer (Vitaly in this case) pushed in...fed me three awesome starting hands...dropped me flops like 'Top Pair with nut flush and nut low draw' that all ended in brick-brick disaster/stack killers. Three hands like that in a row and I was close to dead. 

Rewind to the start of the tourney. There is a black guy...his name is Gary Bolden. Here is a photo of Gary. Gary and I don't like each other. At all. I pretty much can't stand his smug table mannerisms, how he's always chewing on a straw...that he wears sunglasses in a limit tournament (why??) and am pretty sure he hates white people. If I'm wrong about that...I'd be shocked...and would happily apologize for the insinuation. But I am pretty sure I'm not.

Seeing that I had drawn Gary at my table was my first bad beat of the day. I am well aware that he won two rings at Caesar's during the circuit event, and acknowledge that he is a fine poker player. But it doesn't mean he's a good human being. A couple years ago, late in a $550 tourney, I get moved to the 4-seat at his table. He is in the 5-seat. For those who have been reading this blog for 3 years...you might recall this episode. Most of you know that I have space issues. I hate crowded places, and I hate having my personal space invaded. The medication I'm on helps deal with it...but it still looms. And why Venetian insists on forcing us to play 10-handed is beyond me. Especially when about a third of the tables are those little short ones. Its brutal.

So I get to that new table..and Mr. Bigshot, is sprawled out...into about half of my workable space. I ask the dealer to square the table before I attempt to sit down. I do this a lot, and not sure why...but it always seems to annoy the other player. Why? Because I want to sit in my space and want you to move into your own? So he shoots me a dirty look, and moves over about 4 of the required 12 inches. I ask him to please move. He refuses. I ask the dealer to have him move. Dealer does. He wont move. I try to deal with it. It gets worse. It finally got to the point where the floor was called. I explain my situation. Floor asks Gary to move over. He feigns like he just moved by popping straight up out of his chair...but never actually moves over. That was when I snapped. Can't remember what happened or what was said after that...but it wasn't pleasant.

A couple hands later, he coolers my ass...knocking me out of the tournament close to the money, runs his face as I'm leaving...and a new player had entered my Hall of Hated Poker Players. There have been incidents at other events, other venues...and its always the same...this guy loves to talk shit. He has a very high opinion of himself...and loves to share it with everyone.

So today...we had a couple of players who weren't experienced at all...and made a couple of amateurish blunders during the action. Gary decides to clown on them. Which wasn't very cool, considering they had admitted to not really having a clue what they were doing. Well...then he targeted me...when after a hand...I questioned what the other guy was calling the turn with...thinking he didn't have anything, and when the player pointed it out, I realized I had missed that particular draw that he had. Well, this is when Gary the Jerkoff makes his little quip about "having all these players at the table who don't know how to play Omaha." Which pissed me off.

"Hey Gary. I know you. I know what you've done. And you know I've won a ring in this game. So...I would appreciate you not sitting over there disrespecting me in front of my fellow players with your disparaging remarks."

Well...that ignited Gary. He starts blurting out how he 'don't like me' and if I don't like how he's talking about me, maybe I should do something about it. Started suggesting he would 'have me taken care of' and that I didn't know who and what I was dealing with. Basically, he went tough guy on me. 

"Gary...I don't like you either...frankly, but I don't sit here calling you names either, or disrespecting you. Furthermore, I don't think its too cool that you are blasting the other players either. Who do you think you are, anyway?"

Now the floor was called. He immediately heard only that him and I were getting into it verbally and issued us a warning. But I asked the floorman, to please talk to his dealer and ask HIM about the conversation before he issued me a warning. Which...to his credit, he did. He took the dealer aside. Then he took Gary aside. And on break, I was told that the dealer completely backed me, that I never lost my cool, never used profanity, and never made any threats, while Gary fully had done all of those. I'm not going to lie...I wasn't too used to being on the good side of that mess, but I have really worked on my temperament the past few years...and I was pretty proud of my ability to pull it back when I needed to. So he got the warning. I got on my iPad and started watching 'The Daily Show with Jon Stewart' until our table finally broke. 

So apparently before our table broke, there was a certain player a lot of you know...and who (pretty obvious now) reads this blog, blasting me on Twitter, as though I wouldn't find out. I don't know what some of you think I am. Those who DO know me...are pretty positive that if I hear you talking shit about me...that I AM coming to confront you about it. Right?

Eric, as I picture him taking to his 'smart phone' to fire up his Twitter account and drop a little venom on the Monkey!

This is Eric 'Basebaldy' Baldwin...a very accomplished poker player, with a lot of money in career winnings. Eric also, like myself, used to play baseball. Last week, I think Barth was seated next to him in the $550 at Caesar's and had a lot of nice things to say about the guy. Personally, I don't think I've had a lot of interaction with the guy. I have nothing positive nor anything negative to say about him. Kai has had him at his table a lot, and considers him to have the personality of a rubber house plant. But that's Kai...he has high expectations of people's personalities. Pretty sure he compares me to a coffee table.

So...one of my loyal Facebooker's shoots me a message that Eric is ripping me on Twitter. Basically, he posted that "Monkey went 'I've got a ring' on a guy who was giving him shit for reading a hand wrong." Then follows up with "Now he's reading his own blog and laughing/nodding to himself." Well...to the casual eye, I can see both of these things being interpreted that way. For starters, I didn't think Eric Baldwin was the 'kind of guy' who would go posting some shit like that. Guess I was wrong. Secondly...I wasn't using my ring-winning status to prop myself up. I was using it in a conversation with a fellow player to illustrate my point as to why I didn't appreciate his disparaging remarks about me. Period.

As far as reading my blog and laughing? Well...I am flattered that he knew I was reading my blog...he must recognize the layout, since he was not seated next to me or even very close. I will be honest, on this particular occasion, I wasn't reading my blog...as I had JUST written it an hour ago. What I was reading, were a bunch of comments that I hadn't read yet. However...I won't lie...there have been blog entries where I will write them the day before, usually when really tired, maybe even on a 'fall asleep pill' and the next day when I read it for the sake of proofreading and making necessary corrections, I find myself laughing at some of the shit I wrote...not remembering even writing some of it. If that makes me...well, I don't even KNOW what that makes me. But whatever it is, I guess I'm guilty.

So...fast forward. I get rivered...AGAIN...and am left with 300 effing chips. And they break our table. And I had JUST gotten this message about Baldwin trashing me...and what happens? Of course, folks...I get moved to his table! Perfect! I waste no time in confronting him.

Basically told him I heard about his comments, as they were relayed to me by others, and then I went and just looked to verify it for myself, and that as a fellow professional in this field of idiots, I felt pretty offended. Told him I have never had anything but the utmost respect for him...and didn't know what I had ever done to him that would result in his blasting me like that.

I think I caught him off guard a little bit. But to his credit, at least he responded. He asked me to clarify, then...what exactly happened in the hand in question, and what I was reading if I wasn't reading my blog. I answered him. But to me...that wasn't the point, and I told him as much. He understood my point of view, but then challenged me with his own question:

"Don't you think there is a little bit of a double standard, Monkey? Where you rip on people on your blog all the time, but then get upset when someone rips you?"

Okay. Fair enough. Sure. I supposed to a certain extent that there is some merit to that. But what I told him, I think, was a pretty effective reply. I don't ever rip on people that are well-established pros. Or friends. Or even people I semi-respect. I just don't. The people I rip on, are usually weekend warriors, the donkeys who come out every so often to hit that little lucky streak and wreak havoc on us regulars' hopes and dreams. Or there might be the occasional semi-full time player...who I just decide I can't stand. But hold the phone! Here is the difference! I don't sit there plain faced, taking it all in...then destroy the guy on my blog. Nope. No one gets ripped on my blog who wasn't first ripped at the table.

His case in point...and this was evidence he read today's blog...was telling me that he was friends with the guy I featured in today's earlier blog...the dude who looked a bit like (and seemed to imitate with much aplomb) Ben Affleck. Ahhh...now it becomes a bit clearer. Okay then....so he was acting maybe a bit out of spite. Again...I see, I see. But what Eric doesn't know...is that a pretty long conversation had transpired between me and Wanna-Be-Ben...and that I literally told the guy that I had arrived at the conclusion that he was an absolute fool, lacking in any abilities to make a rationale point on any subject. I told him he was about to become Blog Fodder for me...which merely prompted him to start denigrating my blog...which never bothers me. Ever. I just sat there, watching his stupid aviator glasses come off, go back on, off again...back on...all while remembering to purse his lips at the right time...to effectively remember the Tom Dwan style of delivering his chips to the pot...that slow, methodical...almost robotic like trademarked move...complete with the lazy drop on the felt. Watch that twenty times in a row....I dare you! Do it and tell me you don't want to smack the guy in the face with a two by four with nails hammered through the other side! So, on top of his poor ability to counter-attack my powerful one-liners...offering up pathetically sad comebacks, there were the stupid poker mannerisms.

If this guy is Eric's friend, hey, great. Hope you guys live happily ever after. Not at my picnic. Nope. And would we maybe get along in a different setting? Maybe? But doubtful. A lot of guys I am friends with now in the poker world, we got off on the wrong foot. But to their credit, they were all very effective debaters...which was one of the reason I hated them...but at the same time respected them...because they were excellent counter punchers in a sarcastic, comedic way. This dude? Pfft...he was dying on stage, getting pelted by every vegetable in the garden. You can have him, Eric. 

So...I busted on the next hand, collected my shit...and walked the nearly one mile to my hotel room. Its a nice walk. I've rather enjoyed these walks, as a result of not renting a car here for the first time ever. My diet is going great. Pretty sure I've dropped at least 5-10 pounds. But not positive.

As for Eric Baldwin? I don't harbor any ill feelings towards the guy. Simply put, I don't have enough to go on. I'm not one to drive the bus over someone over something as relatively petty as a Twitter blast. Perhaps he will apologize. If not...whatever. We run in different circles anyway...so I'm not gonna sweat it.

Some other wacky shit was going on today. And it involved Jimmy Fricke. Before I tell you this...its merely irony that I did a little piece in the previous entry about obese poker players. All of us that know Jimmy know he is battling with his weight. I also hear from a lot of people that Jimmy is a swell guy. We all know that he is an excellent poker player. That is NOT in dispute at all. And I've never really had any interaction with the kid other than a few tables together in tourneys.

But I get moved to his table...and I instantly notice...that he is being joined...by his dog. Yup. Sitting in his lap!

My initial feeling was envy...as being away from Mollie and Jasper really wears on me when I'm away from home. The second feeling I had was....huh? I'm looking at this dog, and its wearing a vest that proclaims it to be a service dog. Come on! A couple years ago...and with a few drinks in me...and not even sure where I was, a lady had the same thing going on with her dog...and it was OBVIOUS she had no medical condition that required a service dog. So I brazenly asked her why she had the service dog in her company. Did she answer me? Nope, instead she got hostile...which just told me I was right. She was a poser. A service-dog-needing poser. And it got me to thinking...."Hmm...I wonder if Jimmy is pulling the service dog poser move?"

I asked one of the players at the table what the deal was with the dog. He told me another player had asked him and he said that he would prefer not to talk about it. Hmmm??? Just leads to more curiosity and skepticism, right? So now my curiosity was getting the best of me...to the point of obsession. WHY DOES HE HAVE A DOG!???

On tournament break I approach a floor guy. "Why does Jimmy have the dog?" Floor guy: "Not sure"  Monkey: "Does he have some kind of condition that you guys are aware of?"  Floor guy:  "No...no idea. Suspect he doesn't have any condition at all."  Monkey:  "Really, so why doesn't someone confront him about it? Ask him what requires him to have a dog at the table with him...on his lap!?"

Floor guy:  "Honestly? Venetian is paranoid about getting sued. I guess they think they can get sued if we question someone with a possible disability...so we just ignore it."

Okay...and you all know where this led me!!!!

Monkey:  "So, seriously? You're saying that if I show up with my black lab, Jasper tomorrow, sporting a service dog vest...that you guys aren't going to be busting my balls the minute I walk in the door? Come on man...you KNOW you are!!!"

Floor Guy: "Yeah, you're probably right."

Hey! What's with the damn double standard????

Well, I post this picture on my Facebook, and seriously am just on a fact-finding mission to find out why he has this critter in his lap, figuring one of my Facebook buddies would have an answer. And from out of the mist...came a message, which I wouldn't share....out of respect to Jimmy, except that he posted it himself on a public poker forum, so apparently, its not all that private.

Online forum quote from Jimmy regarding "Oscar"...his service dog.

"I feel kinda weird saying this considering I don't post too much here, but Oscar started his service dog training yesterday. I have some anxiety/depression issues and my psychiatrist wrote me a letter of necessity since Oscar is usually the only thing that can calm me down instantly during a panic attack. Yesterday was kind of a trial run, so 8 weeks more to go. Wish us luck"

Now hold the phone!!! I am literally ON MEDICATION for my depression/anxiety issues. And there is nothing on Earth that offers me the calming effect that being with my dogs does. So I am pretty sure that it's time to call up the doctor, get me a note...get Mollie and Jasper fitted for their own service vests...and start bringing them to poker tourneys with me. That could lead to a lot more wins. And a lot less 'freak outs' at the table. Hmmm. And as far as 'service dog training?' What could that possibly entail? Training this dog to make someone feel happy and calm? Um...yeah pretty sure Jasper just needs to sit there and let me pet his head to have it work its magic on me. No fancy tricks. No help crossing streets, or picking off sick reads against my opponents. Nope, just be there for your daddy.

Touche Jimmy Fricke! You have pulled off the move of the year, sir. My hat is off to you! And I hope you find an answer to your depression issues. It is a legitimate nightmare ailment to wrestle with...and frankly, I've been predicting outbreaks of depression to hit the poker world for quite awhile now. I have no clue how you are supposed to play this effing game and NOT want to kill yourself at least 3 or 4 times a week.

Yeah...pretty sure I am done now. Just got a text message from my Riviera friend/host telling me I am likely S.O.L. for a room on Friday and Saturday night of Super Bowl weekend. Not good news. Especially considering I had no such issues LAST year during the same period of time at this same hotel. 

Speaking of Super Bowl...my $100 board just filled today. That is the fastest ever...so fast, I am contemplating a second one. The $50 board has just 8 squares left on it...the 2nd $25 board is 3/4th full. I foresee a possible record year for square sales. I always drop some money on the Super Bowl at the window...having cashed in big two years ago with New Orleans...and last year with Green Bay. Not feeling as confident this year. New York just kind of has that 'Team of Destiny' feeling about it. But I also think Tom Brady is hungry as hell for another championship, and to shut up the critics who think he is over-the-hill. I will be rooting for New England. That over/under of 55 is pretty hard to bet on. Scary line. The 3 point spread is also pretty hairy. I think if I bet the game, I will just take New England on the money line. We'll see. 

I'm going to sleep. Forget about going downstairs to play cash game with Captain Caveman. I think one Twitter blast in one day is enough. Don't need to be showing up in TBC's little diary/blog today.

Monkey