SMASHING FURNITURE! (and a tribute to Corey Haim)

I've almost had it with this damn place!

My last blog came on the heals of a couple of nice scores in the nightly tourneys, but still craving a nooner cash.

I continued with my efforts, but kept running into the same clowns I've been running into all week up here, guys who simply WON'T fold if they have overs, bottom pair, or any semblance of a draw. Or...if they just have CHIPS in the pot.

I am literally about to lose my mind. It all just came to a boiling point, downstairs in the 1k, which I came in very well prepared for. Got a good night of sleep, ate well. And we actually had 62 players show up. 25k for 1st. $4k for 6th.

My table draw was pretty decent. Had 4 good players at my table. Then two complete tards. One of those tards is an Asian guy who is buddy buddy with the Asian guy up here who has been driving me nuts all damn week.

Early in the first level, I would get KK utg and raise to 175 (from 25/50). I get two callers. Thats fine. I want SOME action with a big hand like Kings.  Flop comes 10-high with two clubs. I lead out 450. 1st caller folds. Asian guy calls. Turn is the 4 of clubs. Ugh. I have no club in my hand. But if I bet and he just calls...well, hard to put him on a flush. Kind of. Unless its a BIG flush. So I bet 600. He calls again. Lovely. River is a damn ace. I give up. I check. And he doesnt even bet. He checks. A-10. Awesome!

A little bit after that...this female dealer pushed in. I have had the misfortune of drawing the 9 seat. Which I HATE! This gal has been making me crazy all week. She is in her 60's I think...and its like she's hopped up on something. If she came with a dial to turn her down...I would dial her down about 4 or 5 notches. Sitting next to her nearly puts me in anxiety mode. She is nice enough...but her rapid-fire EVERYTHING just makes me crazy!

We started with 10k in chips. I got as low as 7200...as high as 11,000. But mostly hovered around 8500 for the first three levels. This Asian jackass was raising about 4 out of every 7 hands. And it seemed like everytime I was in the BB or SB I would pick up hands like AJ, KQs, 77....and instead of 3-betting him, which maybe I should have been doing...I was flatting him, hoping to pop his ass. I did get him once. With QJ I flop broadway, and only raise his flop bet due to the two spades out there. He called too, but dumped his hand on the turn...much to my dismay, I guess.

Well, guess we might as well fast forward to the disgusting conclusion, the one that has me up here in my room on the verge of smashing lamps. This is the feeling in poker that I absolutely effing HATE...the feeling that makes me wish I would just find 5 million dollars in my checking account, and quit this damn game...go make babies, play with my dogs, go to the gym every day....and play video games. Maybe take a vacation or 30.

Very last hand of the 3rd level. Half the table folds and walks away. Fucking Asian guy raises...AGAIN. I look down, in the SB...at two red ACES! HaHa! Now...something in me is telling me "just call, trap his ass...get all his chips...." and then I remember how many times I have been caught getting cute with aces...and since I really do NOT want to be leaving this tourney early, and need to cash a damn nooner....and know how I run against Asians...especially with an Asian dealer sitting in the box!!!!!!  I decide to play it, ahem....correctly!

He raised to 550. Blinds at 100/200. In middle position. Which to him is irrelevant...since he raises anywhere with anything!

I make a reraise to 1200. No problem. He calls. Here we go. The flop comes:

J-8-3. Rainbow. I bet out roughly the pot. 2200.

He doesn't think about it very long. He grabs all his colored chips and raises. I put him on AJ, maybe KJ...and KNOW I have him. I call.

His head jerks back to my area....I turn over AA...he shakes his head...as if to say "Oh...whoops, guess I was wrong." And I see his hand...and at first think its J8..and am like..."You gotta be kidding me" until I see that the other card is a 6. Whew...okay, dont fuck me here dealer.

Turn? A mother effing 6 of clubs. No way. Right about this time Joe Cutler, who flew in early this morning to play this tourney and the Main Event Saturday, came up behind me to see what was going down. I don't know what his reaction was...because as the river gave me no help, and my whole damn stack went to this fool, I was off tossing my hat somewhere mumbling to myself...and just hating this week, and these jackasses that keep stuffing me on the rail with their bullshit hands and their bullshit plays that keep getting rewarded.

I walk back over to collect my shit and just look at the guy with disgust. "Hey man...sorry, thats just poker!"

Really? Thats poker? Really? Thats what you call that? Maybe I have lost something in translation about this game.

Then I hear Captain Tom Franklin, who just arrived last night, and I saw and spoke to briefly...muttering one table over about me 'needing to handle my bad beats better.'

Okay you know what, from an observers point of view...FINE...you are entitled to that opinion I suppose. But do me a favor...sit up here for TWO WEEKS, and take these bullshit beats EVERY damn day...hands where you have done everything to represent a big hand, and yet they STILL won't fold...and somehow, pull a magic rabbit out of their ass. Go through that...and in the tourney that REALLY counts for something? That matters? That can give me a reason to go home feeling relieved, and calm, and pleasant so my wife doesnt have to go crazy too. No...why would that happen? Just keep the bullshit coming my way.

So here we are. And I guess writing about it always makes me feel a little better. Not a lot, but a tiny bit, I guess. What's so disgusting, is you see this shit online, and wonder..."what is going on in this stupid asshole's head that is making him (a) call the preflop raise and (b) play it that aggressively after the flop...and constantly get rewardded? Its like everyONE wants to put the other guy on AK. Right?"

Then you see it happen in LIVE tourney play. Which defeats the whole theory in your head/mind that 'they know what's coming' and 'they can see my cards.' Online, you are SO often feeling like its a setup, like its genuinely rigged. And then you sit down agaisnt some of these fucksticks...and you realize..."wow, these people ACTUALLY DO EXIST." And I just seem to have a propensity for finding them.

I run so good.

And yesterday, I did NOT get my two free bottles of Fiji water when they did my room!

Yesterday in the nooner, I finished 21st. After having just doubled up with AJ vs. KJ...to get above 10 BB's finally, I am in the SB...its folded around to us. I look down at AJ suited. The BB has only 3 BB's. I am not just going to raise the guy. Stupid. I move in. He SNAP calls. With 33. Interesting. I flop Q-K-2. Hmmm. Not TOO many outs here. Turn? Another 2. That helps a lot. NOT! River? No help. Jeezuz. Back down to 6 BBs. The guy I doubled up? He would go from 4200 before my hand...to SEVENTY K in just four hands! Raises with 10-10...and snap calls a guys huge all in....that guy had KQ. He missed too. Then he raises with KK...guy OVERships with JJ...he calls, BOOM...and just like that, he was chipleader.

Easy game, huh?

I was out shortly after that...button raised, I had Ad7d...a hand that I would have tripled up with if I had moved in with it about 3 orbits earlier. But this time I ran into KK...and why would I hit an ace?

WHY?

The fact that I am about even on this trip is a small miracle. Joe and I were talking on the way down this morning about how amazingly brutal these local players are. I mean...to have a handful of GOOD players at my table was and is, encouraging. But its those local pyschopaths...that we all worry about. And it seems they are the ones who keep taking me out.

In last night's nightly tourney...I arrived on time. I went from 3k to 9k in ONE level. Was hitting every flop. Was getting paid off. Was raising with KK, getting called by AJ...and watching the guy ship all in on the J-high flop and leave.

Funny thing about these bozo's that I was discussing with a guy named Al from Chicago who seems to keep getting placed next to me:  There is absolutely NO pot control with these clowns. They have no concept of small pot poker. And they never leave themselves any room to get away from a hand. Which creates a lot of bad spots for you, especially deep in a tourney.

These guys will raise 5 to 10 times the BB...and you know they have something like 10's or J's...and you look at AK suited. What do you do? Or what if you look at AA or KK? You KNOW you're ahead....but how do you play it? Flat the dipshit and let him fuck himself on a rag flop? Or flat it and let him flop a set, hence, fucking YOU? Re-raise him? I mean...he has a third or more of his chips in there. Chances of him folding are slim to none. So you are at the mercy, most times...of the flop. And the dealer, with his magical ability (I know-they don't control the cards....or DO THEY!????) to fuck you with the other guys' much needed two-outer.

Its NOT poker. Sorry. Its almost more like roulette...that game, that stupid game...where you put your money on a specific number...then pray, and watch as a little white plastic ball rolls around and around on a wooden wheel....and eventually, after bouncing around, up and down...lands in a hole. A hole with a number. A number you hope matches YOUR number. That is what playing up here in Reno...and also, not to let them feel left out...TUNICA...is like. Its like playing Roulette. There is no playing a hand right, or wrong. There is no good re-raise amount. Position is irrelevant. They might as well just give us all a seat, put a blindfold on us...deal out cards just as a formality...and everyone just bets whatever they are 'feeling' at the time.
Then the dealer puts out the cards...you don't know who the winner is...it doesn't matter. The dealer either slides you the pot, or doesn't.

I have never felt like skill mattered less, than I do in this place. If just once I would get knocked out of a tourney up here after getting 'outplayed' by a superior player, I would actually feel GOOD about it. I would. I promise.

Joe just texted me "dude that was sick, Im sorry. I have your glasses. I'm rolling along with 20k. Hopefully I can get you your buy-in back."

Wow. I had no idea that my glasses went flying off. Glad Joe is cruising along. But I assure you, he isn't even beginning to feel comfortable. Not here. He KNOWS what I know. That he could be walking through this door at any time..after some retard hits whatever out he needs to beat a set, or a flush, or two pair, or whatever it is. These jackasses just DONT fold. I really hoped all the mutants would fail to come up with the required $1080 to play this event. But, alas, a few of them scrounged up the dime to get into it.

Joe and I agreed to swap 5% in all these events. I got him one time on one of my wins...so yeah...I sure hope he wins. And one thing about Joe...there will NOT be a chop. So I guess if he wins, I would get $1250. Do it!

I'm not going back down there til the 7pm.

Oh...yeah, the 7pm. Last night. Got sidetracked. Was looking like I was heading for another final table there for awhile...and then...here he comes. Quite possibly the goofiest looking poker player I have ever seen. And that is saying a LOT.

Don't get me wrong, in my head, I am saying to myself..."Monkey...come on man, he can't help it that he looks like Mr. Potatohead. There but for the Grace of God go I." All that stuff where I am trying not to be critical. Because I know its wrong. People, please...don't think that I wake up every day WANTING to dislike everyone. Cuz I don't. There are a lot of poker players who I like, and enjoy hanging out with. And even admire and/or respect.

Okay...maybe not a LOT. Point is...I don't go looking for people to clown, they just seem to always present themselves to me for clowning.

Case in point...Mr. Potatohead. This kid...wow, I wanted to take his picture and post it on here, but I am looking to NOT do anything to get in trouble these days. So I refrained. Okay...I DID take his picture with my camera phone....but if you want to see it, you will have to ask me in person to show it to you. I promise you will laugh. Maybe 23 to 27 yrs old. About 5'10, weighing in at about 280-320 somewhere. Big round head, with a double, maybe triple chin. Round beady eyes. Big, block shaped eyebrows that sit right on top of his eyes. Like, no seperation at all. Very weird. Remember 'PONG' on Atari? His eyebrows looked like the two sliding 'paddles' used to return volley! Only thicker!  A nose that looked, quite simply...like a triangle, like it was drawn on his face, or plugged in...like, well, Mr Potatohead's nose. And then...of course, the dead-ringer ears, big, round and protruding, just Senor Potatohead's ears. I  mean...the similarity was UNCANNY!

Well, he came to our table with a triple stack. I was told by another player who came from his table that he whacked two players early when he flopped a set of 4's against KK and JJ. Perfect. So I had about 8500 now and he had around 11k.

A player limps UTG for 50. I call with As5s. It gets to him. He raises to 300! Yeah! You heard that right. Hmmm. Lets see....so thats 6x. He has almost 4 times the average. And he now is afraid to play a pot against a table full of people, none of whom can bust him. He is raising to pick up a grand total of 200 chips. How will those chips look in his 11k stack? Rather insignificant I would say, right? I giggle and fold, as the other guy does as well.

Awhile later, I pick up QQ at cutoff. Blinds 50/100. I make it 250. See...I am not afraid to play after the flop. I have triple the average. I wouldn't mind a little action. Is that crazy? Well, Potatohead re-raises me to 600. Hmmm great. Here we go again with QQ. I am clearly NOT folding preflop. Especially to this fish. I call. The flop comes K-high. Perfect. Does he check raise me? Nawwwww...why would he do that? He leads out for 3k! Hahahahaha. Come on dude.

Whatever, I fold the bitches face up.

Then...I play this fun hand:

One of the local yocals limps on the button. Yep, just limps for 200. Always an interesting and fun play. I look at 89d and check. The flop comes A-6-9. I decide to lead out...hard to put him on an ace...limping on the button, but ya never know. I bet out 450. He thinks...well, that may be giving him too much credit. We'll just say he paused for about 2 seconds (maybe not that long) and calls. Hmmm. The turn is the 7 of diamonds. Oh...I now have a flush draw...AND a straight draw to go along with my pair. I bet 600 now. He calls again. WTF? River is a K of clubs. Whatever...I check. What does he have? Well...I won't sit here waiting to die of old age while you all try to figure this one out...so I will just tell you:

KING SEVEN OF HEARTS!

Yepppppppppp. Why did he call the flop? Um.....not sure. That turn call? Perplexing as well...although he DID finally make a pair. But I think the best part was when he makes two pair on the river...and then DOESNT bet behind my check. Unreal.

I would raise with 88 a bit later...from 100/200 to 600...and get re-raised by the Potato again...this time to 2k. Ugh....sigh....this is getting irritating now. I fold that one.

Then....oh, the QUEENS again. I raise, again...in early position, for 600. And AGAIN...the Potato re-raises me. This time to 1500. I now have 6500 behind. And I am sick of folding to this retard. So I re-raise his 1500 to 4500. He puts me all in. Yep, I call, show me your AA or KK. Oh...no, just AK. Gee...why would he EVER fold that? Dealer gave him what he needed, a KING right on the flop. I was out.

****************************************************

Turn on the TV last night and see that Corey Haim bought the farm. Hmmm. Then see all the clips on him from the last couple years. "Oh yeah, I've got a couple of projects in the works, couple production deals, lots of stuff going on, very exciting...blah blah blah." Uh huh.

Translation: Hollywood is done with me. My 15 minutes of fame expired 10 years ago. I am living off residuals. No one wants to hang out with me. I am leaning on drugs as a crutch to escape the painful reality that is my life.

Some of you may or may not know this. My given name is William Souther. William is my middle name. My first name? Corey. Back in the late 80's I was sick of all the Corey Haim, Corey Feldman, Corey Hart jokes...and just decided that it was a gay name...and started going with William. Its stuck pretty well, with everyone but my Mother and my wife when she is pissed at me. Oh yeah...and Tim Mix, tourney director at the Venetian. He has 3 levels, or DEFCONS...when I am there. If he calls me Monkey, its all good, if he calls me William, its DEFCON 2...or there is cause for some concern...and if he calls me COREY...well, I am in some kind of hot water!  Oh...if you think you can just come up and call me Corey to put me on tilt? You can't. I'm not that prone! I will just laugh at you probably.

So this guy Haim is dead. And if you have caught Feldman's act lately, you can only wonder when God will punch his ticket, too. Guy is a mess. A hot mess. Corey Hart? No idea. Haven't seen or heard from him in years. But he's Canadien...those guys seem to be a little more suited to life after fleeting fame has passed them by. (see Brian Adams and Richard Dean Anderson)  Probably up there living in the woods, hunting deer and elk and singing to the Mooses. Meese?

I don't think it's ever cool, hip, or right to joke about someone's passing. And I am not doing that. I actually find it tragic what happens to some of these young people. And it always seems to be actors, and sometimes musicians. The human psyche is so delicate, isn't it? I mean...I guess it's best to just go through life experiencing little joys and victories here and there, small periods of recognition and what not. Mixed in with some setbacks and defeats to keep us balanced, and grounded. Get married, have kids, struggle at times with your loved ones, working through life's little crisis', experiencing the highs and lows of having a family. But discovering, through those trials and tribulations, the good times and bad...what life is truly all about. And dealing with it.

You feel me?

So when these young people discover fame at an early age, make money hand over fist, have everyone wanting a piece of them...they suddenly become, for lack of a better word; WARPED. And once you are warped, it is very hard to get straightened out. And how could you expect them to? Money? Not an issue. Getting work? Not a problem. Finding partners for sex? They're lined up waiting. Pretty much anything you want...there it is. Waiting for you.

And then one day...it's all gone. All of it. Oh sure...you have enough money to get by...with your residuals still arriving in the form of a monthly check. But it's nothing like what you were once accustomed to. And now that your friends have disappeared, proving to you what you always suspected, that they weren't actually friends, but mere leaches...you are left alone, looking for someone or something to fall back on. And that answer is often times, drugs. Which..in the hands of an addictive behavioral type..can result in a whole new set of problems. Which...I think, is a large majority of these people.

So I don't think Corey Haim's death...or Michael Jackson's death...or any other celebrity's death that is related to this kind of demise is funny. In fact, its very, very sad. Who I really feel sorry for though, isn't them...its the ones who DID love them. Their family usually. I actually think dying is an escape for them. One they are okay with.

R.I.P. Corey.

***************************************************
The NFL draft is on April 22nd.
Today is March 10th. According to my calculations...the draft is in a MONTH AND HALF! Everytime I turn on ESPN...its like the #1 topic of conversation.
I am more than sick of hearing about who Mel Kiper likes in the first three rounds.
For me...when the last minute runs off the clock in the Super Bowl, and I have cashed in my winning sports bet tickets...football season is OVER...until the end of August. Sorry.

*******************************************************

I kind of miss American Idol. Having been on the road now since February 2nd, I have not seen ONE episode since the first two weeks. I hear they are down to 8 guys and 8 girls. I hope my wife hasn't been deleting each episode after she watches them...like I would lean about 84% towards saying she has been.

*********************************************************

There is a C-130 Military transport plane that is buzzing my hotel, banking left right at my tower...and almost making me think its coming in my window. Pretty freaky.

**********************************************************

My sister lives in Milwaukee. She is an Athletic Director at an all women's college, and coaches their softball team. She has adopted a young boy who has all kinds of issues with his diet and his behavior. She has done amazing things with the kid. We saw him on our trip to Seattle in January. I didn't spend much time with him. Cheryl did. Outside on a cold rainy day smacking rocks with a stick. She always does. She's very active, and caring like that. I'm not mean to the kid, I just don't really give him much attention. Well, Janae's ball team is travelling to Cocoa Beach, Florida next week to play a tourney. Her little boy Chase is coming with. My mother has decided to go there as well. Cheryl made plans to drive down too. I wasn't planning to go. Well, when my sister told Chase that 'Aunt Cheryl' might come down...he kept saying..."And!???" Finally Janae says...."and WHAT?"  To which he responds..."what about Uncle Will?!!" Whoa, what? Really?

Turns out, I guess the kid does nothing but talk about me and emulate me since he got home from Seattle. Really? Wow. I'm a role model? Thats a trip! This kid, who I barely gave the time of day? I mean...I don't know what to say. Well, my Mom heard this...and insisted I come to Orlando (near where they are playing) to be with everyone. So she goes and buys me a ticket, to fly from Reno (I was scheduled to fly out of Vegas on the 15th) directly (well, with stops) to Orlando. To meet them. For two days. So yeah...after I finish playing this Main Event...which is on Saturday and would finish on Sunday, if God forbid I get that far...I will fly out of here at 6am on Monday morning...and meet them in Orlando! I won't be tired I'm sure!

Then we stay there for two days only, and make the 9 hour drive back to Biloxi, because Cheryl has to work on Wednesday. And then...I will finally get to see my dogs, who I miss SO much! I guess we are going to Disney World. I would like to go see that Shamu show. Cheryl loves Mickey Mouse...and was just down there with her nephews a few months ago. I've been to Disneyland...but never Disney World. I hate crowds. I will attempt to be on my best behaviour. Medication may be required. Or Mickey might go down!

***************************************************************

I guess that's about enough. Im gonna hang out in my room til the nightly, watch some college hoops and maybe play online a little bit. And root for Joe to do well down there. My March Madness pool is going to be gigantic! I've already got over 100 people registered, and they havent even announced the seeds! And my Title Game squares board? Wow! Already filled 70 of the 100 squares! Looking like I will get 2 or 3 of those filled! This is going to be a really fun March Madness I think. Thank god, because I need SOMETHING to get excited about.

MONKEY