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Monday, December 15, 2008

Part 3: More Carribean Madness

WORST DEALERS IN THE HISTORY OF POKER....in a WPT SPONSORED EVENT

Literally THREE weeks before the camp started, the local casino started training their dealers to deal poker. Remember when you were trying to learn poker? Can any of you sit there and tell me that in THREE WEEKS you had it all figured out to the point where you felt you could competently go and deal a tourney where there was over half a million in the prize pool? Oh...and lets throw in the obstacle of dealing to players whom spoke a language you didn't understand!

Meanwhile, the WPT gang decides to bring down 5-8 dealers who were trained in America. Dealing in real tourneys. But did they have them deal the Big Tourney? Nope! They let the Dominicans deal the tourney. The 'real' dealers instead were held out to deal the cash game and the minimal SNGS that they were runnning. Whose decision was this? And where was the logic involved? So what we had was a litany of misdeals all through the Day One and Day Two action.

I am told, but cant confirm because I refuse to go watch Final Tables that I am not a part of...that they actually used the REAL dealers for the Final Tables. Well, hallelujah! How do you spend $4500 on a poker trip and sit there and watch dealers who have NO CLUE without losing your freaking mind? The answer? Very simple. You make sure you managed to smuggle some weed in with you...and about every 45 minutes, or whenever there is a ten minute break...you run outside to your favorite bush and light up the one-hitter. Because if you do NOT....you most likely end up killing someone. Quite possibly, yourself.

Not sure how many times you can watch a dealer slide the pot to the wrong player before you lose your mind. Not sure how many times you can watch them do that stupid move with their hands that blackjack dealers do after they have FINALLY shuffled all six decks (or is it 8 now?) and have the shoe ready for a new round of betting. You know? Hands held apart, then they clap?

These clowns were doing this in between EVERY hand. It was just awful. But the ultimate moment in MONKEY DONT KILL SOMEONE...came in the cash game. It was when we were close to going to the club. I had already cashed out the $750 I had won on my previous session...had gone to my room to shower and change. Came back, and we were all still waiting for everyone to get their shit together so we could leave. I had decided to leave almost all of my money in the safe, and only take about $250 to this club.

I had been warned that if we were going to go to this club that we should (a) not take a lot of money and (b) travel in a large group. Ahhhh...that's what you want to hear when you are off on a tropical vacation!

So, not one to sit idly by...I decide to buy into the $1/$2 game with $200 to kill time. I win the first few hands I play and run it up to about $325. Then...sitting next to this guy from South Africa, who was losing one hand after another....his JJ found a K on the flop, his AQ flops nothing...he is about to explode...well, he raises it to $10, and I look down at AA. Oh boy. I re-raise it to $30. AND THANK GOD THAT WAS THE NUMBER I CHOSE, and NOT, say...$35, or $40. The next guy...he has $53 left in his stack, and is holding AQ. He goes all in for $53. (a $23 re-raise!) The next player CALLS. And another player CALLS. Back to Mr. Psycho, who ALSO calls. Back to me...and now there is around $242 in the pot. I have around $180 in my stack. I decide to make a very interesting play here.

I announce raise, and the dealer...a Dominican, stops me. Tells me I cannot raise because this other guy is all in. WRONG, PEPE! His raise constituted a legal raise. I am still allowed to re-raise here. He refused to buy in. OH NO! THis is NOT going to happen. NO way in HELL I play AA vs. 5 other players. I call for the floor...and over comes a short little Dominican dude in a horrible suit, who I KNOW works in the casino, but to my best recollection doesn't know SHIT about poker.

Dealer gives him the 'mwha mwah waa waaaa' (charlie brown-teacher-reference there) explanation in Spanish...and Floor guy tells me "no sir, you cannot raise" and now I am trying everything I can not to get myself thrown into a 3rd world countries' local jail. I ask them to PLEASE get a person from WPT to overrule. Luckily they do. They pull over one of the dealers, who is sitting at another table with THREE OTHER WPT dealers killing time. Love how these guys were being used (like, not AT all!) on this trip. The guy comes over, is explained the situation, and IMMEDIATELY declares "he can ABSOLUTELY raise there" and so they finally relent and allow me to raise!

Thank God. I raise it another $120. The first guy is all in of couse. The second guy folds. The third guy...goes in the tank. And when someone finally calls clock on him, he goes nuts. Another fight almost breaks out. By this time I am preparing myself for the one-hitter. He finally...with his one minute to act running down....decides to SMOOTH CALL $120, knowing I only have $63 left behind me. Wow. The Angry South African tells me "I know you must have ACES, I will fold JACKS!"

I tell him he is right. Flop comes Q-10-4. First guy checks, I ship my last $63 and he mucks K-10. Yeah. He has to call $63 into a pot that now holds around $480 and he hits the flop and still has outs...and folds! Nice play sir. The turn is a JACK! South African guy starts pounding the table. And the river...is a TEN!!!! Hahahahaha I would have come out with the third best hand! Instead I drag the entire pot. And a few hands later we were ready to go to the club. Well......sort of.

NEVER MARRY A WOMAN WHO WOULD RATHER MAKE OUT WITH STRANGERS (male and female) THAN WITH YOU!!!!

THese guys I met from Atlanta were all pretty good guys. One of those guys was Mathew. He is about my age. Pretty good player. Earlier in the evening we had discovered that we were being hustled. The dealer was Dominican, and was sharing info with the other two Dominican clowns at the table. Telling them what hands we had folded and shit. But what were we going to do? When you are on their turf...you are pretty much fucked.

About that time I look over and see Matt's wife fondling and kissing on these other hot blonde who is from Russia, but lives in South Africa with her cash-game playing husband. Hmmm. Now dont get me wrong, I am all about the "my girl is drunk and now making out with another hottie." However, I can see this guys' point.

You are married, been married for 7 years, and there is a way to do things. Aparantly, two night before she was caught at the bar making out with another guy. YEAH! Making out! And then when he went up to yank her out of there, she had her head in the guys lap! He dragged her out by the hair, is what I was told by others. NICE!

Well, this all sounds about right. Because thinking back on Thursday night, I was about to go to my room for the night, and get myself well-rested for Friday's 2nd chance tournament. I told one of the guys I was going to smoke a bowl, read my book and fall asleep. This gal overheard me and asked if I could get her high? Huh? Oh...well, its in my room, but if you and your husband want to come by, I am in Room 495.

She whispers that her husband wouldn't approve and that she would have come alone. NO WAY! I tell her that not only am I engaged, and that SHE wouldn't approve, I would NOT being having another player's wife in my room alone. No way. So thankfully she didn't just show up anyway.

So we finally get everyone rounded up and ready to go to this club. Her and Matthew are now fighting. According to the other ladies, who have left their husbands at the cash game...she didn't want him coming. Well, I wouldn't have wanted to go with just those ladies either....so we had a situation. It was Matthew, that kid Mike, me and some other guy from Italy...and these four ladies.

Her and Matt fought the entire drive to the club. Awwwkkkward! The Club was very cool. It was called Imagine...but it was a cave. Not sure why it wasn't called THE CAVE. There were tunnels and three or four separate dance floors, then little areas with private tables. Very cool place. FYI. If you speak Spanish, you might only pay $50 per bottle, instead of $80 if you DONT speak Spanish. Also, if a pretty Dominican girl approaches you...its not that you are so handsome and irresistible, its more likely that you have been marked as a potential customer!

Yep, for just $40 you can take one of these princesses to some compound-like place down the road, have your way with them...and then hope that you don't wake up missing a spleen! I know this, because this is the experience Mike took. He got out alive and with all his internal organs. He borrowed $200 from me to leave the club with one of the tramps and left me there with the Speedy Sweden and his other buddies.

He needed the money remember because he had loaned the $350 he was going to take with him for the club to TJ the MOOCH. I knew he was good for it. After awhile I decide to leave and get the cab driver who thinks I'm a retard. We start on this scenic little journey before I finally tell him to let me out of his car. I pay him the $20 he is overcharging me.

Does anyone play Grand Theft Auto on Playstation/Xbox? If you do..then you might know what I am describing here. That part of town in Miami where the taxi station is? And as you are getting near it there are all those dudes in white tanks, with do-rags on their heads? You run one of them over and about ten come over and try to kill you? So you beat on your car until it explodes and takes half of them out? You steal a club from one of them....beat another guy to death with it...pick up his machine gun...and shoot the rest of them? You know that scene? THAT is where I got out of this guys cab!

Not having a gun, or a club...I sneak around until I find another cab. I get in and tell him to take me to Bavaro Princess Resort...and hopefully, am off. He does drive straight there..and as I am getting out he tells me $30. WHAT!??? It should have been NO MORE than $10. I tell him..."you're a crook buddy! Here is $10 and a $5 tip" and he tries to get the hotel security guard to have me arrested. OMG. You know what...fuck it. When in the den of Satan you have to play by a different set of rules. I give him another $20 and ask him to please hit a cement truck head on when he leaves.

Now pulling up in another taxi, is my buddy Mike...who is telling me about his hooker experience. I guess it wasn't all it was cracked up to be. Big Shock there, eh? I guess he tried to bring her back to the hotel and they wouldn't let her through the gate without first collecting $200 or so from him up front. Wow, its just so funny how corrupt and stupid everything is in these little shitbox countries. So he's all pissed off. He wants to pay me the $200 he borrowed, and I am cool with collecting it, because right now all I can think about is getting off of this god-forsaken island and get home on the next available flight.

We walk to his room, along the dark path...having no idea where the hell I am. He gives me the $200 he owes me, we exchange Facebook info (I think) and I head back to my room. At least I thought I did. I walk around for an HOUR...not able to find my room. This place is a 96 acre resort. There are no lights to help you find your way. I am a little surprised I wasn't mugged, because it would be a great place to rob unsuspecting guests. I have reached my breaking point and call Squirrel to ask her to please get/find me a flight out as soon as humanly possible. Eventually I circle back around and see the neon lights of the casino!

Granted, its about 20 minutes on foot to my room, but at least now I know where I am! I get back to my room at 6:30am. Squirrel has booked me a flight for later that day at 3:20! THANK YOU!

THE SECOND CHANCE TOURNEY....and the REAL action that followed!

The second chance tourney that they ran on Friday was a joke. First of all, it started at 10am. Lets talk about this. These idiots that run these poker tourneys need to pull their heads out of their asses! First of all, we all know that us poker players will play at ANY TIME OF DAY, right? If I am going to spend a good amount of my (or my backers') money to go to an exotic location to play poker, how about letting me enjoy the actual location I am traveling to!?? A

ruba, Bahamas, Costa Rica, the various other places they are holding tourneys in...how about trying this idea. How about letting us players enjoy the beaches and the other attractions in the early part of the day? And then...at say 4 or 5 pm...start the tourneys and play til about 2am. They way they are running them, you start at 10am...and only play a maximum of 6 levels a day so they can stretch it out. So you finish at 8pm. You cant get a damn reservation in any of the restaurants. And if you can, they all close at NINE! So then, you really have NOTHING to do for the rest of the day but play cash game. So freaking stupid. But if I were frolicking all day, then playing poker in the evening...it wouldn't be such a bad trip! But I guess that probably makes way too much sense doesn't it?

We start the tourney. My table really, really sucks. I am pretty much winning every hand I am in. I turn 10K into 23K before we even get to level 3. I have a guy at my table who turns out to be a total asshole. Bitching about everything. Whining, whining...ahhhhh enough! I finally put a $100 bounty on him after ASKNIG the floor guy if I am allowed to put a bounty on players. He tells me I can. So I do. Now the guy wants me put in a penalty. HA! Nice try.

Well, I don't get to enjoy him getting whacked. I go to the bathroom in between hands, and when I get back I am told the guy next to me took him out. I pay the $100, shake the guys' hand, and get on with it. We are getting fairly close to the lunch break when I pick up 66 UTG. I raise from 200/400 to 1200. Guy on the button calls me. I flop nothing. With two diamonds. I bet out anyway. Button calls. SHIT! Well the turn is a 6. NICE! Of diamonds. Ugh. I bet big! The guy calls again! Dammit! The river is ANOTHER DAMN DIAMOND! Son of a bitch! I check. Fuck it.

He checks behind. He has 44. One diamond. Flush. Lose half my stack. This guy was calling me all the way down...with a K, a Q, and a 9 on the board...with a pair of FOURS! So now I go to the lunch break with only 12K and fuming!

I go to lunch break, which means a trip to the buffet. Oh no. The buffet. I avoid almost everything. I see death. The only thing I see that looks safe is a bunch of fruit. So I score some fruit, wolf it down...and go to my room to relax and change clothes. Go back to the tourney. Another of the CLOWNS makes another one of their clown moves and ships all in for 7K on 300/600 blinds with me holding 10/10 in the SB. I call. He is stealing with J2. Nice hand sir. Great play. Jack on the flop.

Didn't I just take this same beat online the other day? Yeah...pretty sure I did. Same guy I wonder? That would be wild. So now I am sitting on 6500 and ready to KILL SOMEONE. Again...maybe myself. On the VERY NEXT hand...Mr. 'take my ultra dark glasses from on top of my hat and put them on ONLY when I am about to raise' makes a 2500 raise. I look down at AA.

I start to ask him how much he has left...and then realizing that slow rolling this guy is probably just going to end up resulting in a bad beat with ACES for me...I say "oh never mind...I'm all in." I think he must think I am still fuming over the beat I just took against Jack Deuce boy...so he calls with QJ. Nice call sir. It holds up. I now go back to 13K.

I sit there card dead for a whole level...back down to 7k, when I pick up 99. I raise in early position, and the guy behind me calls. He is holding A7. Again, nice hand. I am not going to lie, this trip consisted of some of the most GOD AWFUL players I have ever seen. I will just tell you that not ONE 'name' PRO made either of the final tables...and upon watching them make their 'walk of shame' they almost all had the same look on their faces.

You know the one! The "wow, if I hadn't just seen that with my own two eyes, I would have never believe I just went out like that!" look! Another thought. I heard people saying..."no pros made the final table." It got me to thinking. With 10 final tables this year, 180K in winnings this year, $225 career, 17 cashes this year and about 40 overall...had I made the final table...would they have labeled me "a pro?" The term 'PRO' is very loosely used. A guy makes a final table that gets televised, and never cashes again...but got 3rd place for $224,000 in that ONE that he made...and everyone labels this clown a pro.

But accumulate more cashes and final tables than 85% of the other players out there and somehow you are still 'an amateur.' Whatever...I guess I don't really care that much. The bottom line is, this is my job, my chosen profession. It is my duty to win on a regular basis. If someone wants to recognize me as 'a pro' then fine, I guess that's lovely. If not..I guess that's fine too. As long as I know that my game is better than most and I have money to keep playing poker and not have to go get a job like the majority of these other schlubs. Where was I? Oh yeah...Im about to get knocked out of this tourney.

99. Flop comes K-K-2. Not the best flop in the world. I bet anyway. He calls. Hmmm. Jack on the turn. I check. He checks. Another jack on the river. Oh fuck! Well I have 85% of my stack in the pot now. I cant win if I dont bet...and I do NOT think 9 high is going to play. I move all in...he calls, with his ACE high...and I am out. I am not sure what inspired him to call preflop, or again...after the flop....but when I start trying to figure out how bad players play that is usually when I start looking around for a gun. So I just shake my head and leave.

Time to go make some money! I find a $120 SNG that is needing two more players. LOCK IT UP! I will bore you all the details. I end up getting heads up with this lady named Gretchen, who calls herself the "dragon lady" and has every kind of dragon-related schwag you can imagine. She is ...well, she's nice. But she is very annoying, and scary looking. Her and I end up chopping this SNG.

I then decide to play the $100 with $50 rebuy tourney. That was a mistake. Huge. After rebuying several times...losing with AA/KK/JJ/QQ/AK...and investing $480...I go out just after the rebuy period....and find a $1/$2 game to lick my wounds. I turn $300 into $550 quickly. Then I hear..."two seats open on a $240 SNG" come from behind me.....LOCK IT UP! I win the first hand. Then on the second I am in the BB and the old guy at the other end of the table makes the mistake of min-raising me. I look down at Js8c and I call. The flop comes Jc10c9c. NICE! I tell him "sir, I am going to check/raise you all in." I check. He bets 450 into a 275 pot. I move all in.

He looks stunned. I tell him "sir, if you can beat a straight flush you should call." Well, like so many before him, he fails to heed my warning and calls anyway. DAMMIT, I think to myself, until he turns over AKs. Huh? WTF is he thinking? No problem...the Q of hearts hits the turn..giving him the straight (GIVE ME A BREAK!) but then....just like I ordained, the 7 of clubs hits the river for the STRAIGHT FLUSH!!!!! HAHHAHAHAHA. The table now thinks I am MOSES! That little play pretty much helped me get away with murder the rest of the SNG. I get heads up with this guy who is clearly horrible.

I dominate him...winning 80% of the hands heads up. But every time I am about to put him away, he sucks out for a double up. We play for an HOUR AND A HALF...the blinds get to 1500/3000. We also have $400 in the last longer. We agree to take $850 each and play for the $400. I end up winning. A nice little $1250 score. I lose the next SNG, a $120 deal...on a river beat. But its early, so I wasn't really that upset about it. I go back to the cash game and tread water for awhile. Then get together with Matthew at the other side of the table for that little session I discussed earlier. And now, we have come full circle.

1 comment:

Bad Beet said...

I hope this guy Mike is not a friend of yours.Shit if I was out and decided to leave with a hooker I would put my foot in the ass of the bastard that blogged about it.
Did George Clooney do any shady shit around you? I use to hang out with Al Pacino and man could I tell you some stories. We need to get together smoke a bowl and swap tales.