So I'm waiting (37 minutes) for my car in valet last night at IP. The lobby is crawling with people in clothes that shock, confuse and amaze. Skin showing that should never be seen in the light of day. Two or three people are asleep and/or passed out in the chairs in the waiting area. In fairness, you could likely attribute this to alcohol or the excessive wait times in picking up your car in the slowest valet in America.
Then there is this one guy. By most standards you'd consider him 'normal.' Until this: "Excuse me...where are you heading?" Huh? Are you talking to me? Yes...yes he was. Why are you asking me where I'm heading, I inquired? Oh...well...because, despite it being 2am...he claims he was supposed to have been picked up by a 'friend' at 12:00....PM! Like, yeah...14 hours ago. To travel to a town I'd never heard of 35 minutes north. 14 hours! Surely this guy was kidding? I ask the person in valet if this sounded right? "Oh...yeah...that guy has been sitting there for a long time."
"Sir, I would love to help you...but I have a tremendous phobia of getting robbed and possibly killed....so I will have to say no. Good luck to you though."
I finally get my car...the midget in valet has once again left my seat pinned almost to my dashboard...and raised to the ceiling, so I spend the required time adjusting my seat so I can actually ENTER my car. Then on the way...turning left off of the freeway...this lady is literally in the middle of the intersection...like, she'd just STOPPED when she realized she'd run the red light. And since it was two lanes...and cars were going by me on the right, I couldn't even go around her. I sat looking at her...with that face...you know the one? That sort of....'what the fuck?' face? I felt bad for her...she looked panic stricken. I tried waving her to just go...but she wouldn't. It was awkward. I was so glad to finally get to my driveway,...where I sat for about 5 minutes thinking about my day.
I played Main Event Flight A...on a ticket I won in the Mega. At one point I doubled from 12k to 25k...then had a guy...who smelled (not making this up) like he had been soaked in old bourbon...rolled in animal feces, and decided to go play a poker tourney. In THREE minutes the entire table had their shirts up over their face. On his second hand...at 300/600...he moves all in with 97 offsuit. I happened to find KK on the button. I win. He leaves. And everyone at that table now has clothes that resemble Jerry Seinfeld's car after that trip through valet. For the fear of spores attaching themselves to my clothes...and spreading like ebola to my other clothes once I got home....I took off my clothes in the driveway, poured gasoline on them...and lit them on fire. I'll miss that t-shirt. And jeans. The greater good.
That put me at 40k. Then I raise with AK. I get called by the small blind. Flop comes KK5. Wow. He checks. I C-bet. He raises! What? Makes no sense. I'm thinking maybe K10 or KJ. This could be really nice...and get me to almost 75k. Turn is a 3. Now he bets 6k. Strange. I just call. The river is a deuce. He bets 8k. I think most players would have raised at some point in there. I'm glad I didn't. I just called. Pocket fives. Boat. Ugh. Gross. I then struggle and grind 10 bb's for about 3 or 4 levels..and sit thought a 90 minute dinner break. Come back...patiently grind...moving in a couple times to pick up the occasional 'round of M' to keep me afloat. Then down to 5 BB's...I shove Q10c UTG...and get called by Ryan Ennis with pocket tens. Nice hand sir. Whoa! Queen in the window! Followed by a 10! One-outer. And no queen would follow...I was out. And bummed. Was gonna play the 10pm $240 Mega...but then as I was about to register, noticed it was 10 minute levels. Super Turbo. A $240 that takes $50 in juice. Gives you only 3000 starting chips. Um...yeah, no thanks. I'd rather just go get a good night of sleep, and pay the full $1675. Which is what I did.
Came back good and refreshed. Squirrel had to work, and I'd managed to line up a babysitter, Carley's daycare teacher....or who WAS her teacher until next week, when they've decided to move her up to an advanced class. She is such a nice girl, and Carley loves her...so getting her to take Carley for the day was awesome. I drove her to meet Bobbi Sue and got to the IP about 45 minutes early. Weird feeling. Had a pretty good table draw. A few guys I know pretty well, Kris Kent, Nick (from Louisiana who's last name I always forget-great guy, solid player) and TK Miles. Then later that crazy Russian Dimitri would come to our table and talk everyone's ear off!
I had a modest start....+2250 at the first break. But then, from there, it was kind of a brutal, torturous grind. I got down to 6100....when, with a raiser, and a re-raiser....and a call...I look at KK in the SB and shove all in, getting called by Nick with AK, while the guy with 10-10 folded. I held...and was back in business. That didn't last long. This goofy looking mutant...and if you play down here...you know EXACTLY what I'm talking about...shows up at our table, and I say "I hope you play as bad as the last guy who sat in that chair!" Oh...he did, and worse.
He was fond of limping. Very fond. He would donk off chips, then get lucky and chip back up. On one hand I raised with QQ. He called. The flop came K-4-4. He confusingly checked. I bet a normal c-bet amount. And he looks at his cards....makes a motion to fold...then does a 180 and shoves all in. WTF? Whatever...I fold. Well, I was so wanting to get rid of this guy. Ever just have a guy sit down...who you observe for awhile...and just KNOW...that this is gonna be the idiot who ruins you? And your chance to win a tourney that will let you buy a house? Something about this clown was screaming that...so I wanted to take every chance to bust him. My chance arrived.
He limps in for 1000. Two others call. I find 99 on the button. I make it 3200 to go. He sits there, blinking like an iguana and a hot desert boulder....I'm waiting for his tongue to flicker....then he all of a sudden goes all in for 18k. Makes no sense. The others fold. I decide to call..and he turns over AJ offsuit. Pffft. Nice move buddy. The dealer puts all rags on the flop. Nice. Turn. Nothing. One card away from having 27k and being in good shape. Whooops, sorry, Monkey....stupidity gets rewarded again...ace of hearts on the river. Two or three guys just look at me and shake their head. Kris Kent quips "Monkey, I've never seen someone get beat on the river as much as I've seen you lose on the river over the years. It's crazy!" Yes, Kris...it is, indeed, crazy. I was left with 2500 chips.
Those eventually went in with KJ...and I was called by the one guy (from Atlanta) who I hadn't seemed to be able to beat all day...who turned over AQ. At least I was live. He flopped two aces...and I was dead. Main Event...over. Shit.
It's weird because for the past few years...I've run so lousy in prelim events...but then cash in almost all the Main Events....which, as noted earlier, is not a terrible thing. But this week? I've been kind of crushing the prelim events...but then get smoked with both bullets in the Main. Not something I'm proud of, or happy about.
So since it was 6:30....I had the chance to climb into Ring Event #11...a $365 tourney. Why not? I renamed it the Loser's Bracket's Bitter Bowl...consisting of mainly forlorn, saddened players who were no longer toiling in the Main Event. I sit down...and played like a maniac....opening super light...throwing bluffs left and right...floating with nothing and hitting. It was crazy. Then actually get a couple good hands and get paid off...before I knew it I had 26k and was running over the table. Looked up and saw 86 players. Hmmm...this might be the easiest final table I ever make!
Then the shit hits the fan, And it all happened on one dealers' down. It was a whirlwind...flopping two pair...betting flop, betting turn...and getting rivered...by a flush, by a better two pair. Left, right, knee to the groin, punch to the head...gouged eye...I was battered and bloodied and now down to...yes...1600 chips! At 300/600. So much for waltzing to the final table. I wasn't even going to make the money!
Or was I? I shove all in with 9-10 on the button. Get called by A2 and BB's unknown hand. Flop comes K-2-5, two clubs. Ugh. When the small blind leads out I figured I was dead meat. BB folds. I see his hand...and thank him for betting the other guy out of the hand...then turn a nine, that holds! Boom! Triple up. I won't bore you with the rest....I went on a massive heater. Then get moved to a new table at 27 players...seated next to...we'll just call him Mr. Poker.
Gawd I wish I could show you a picture. But he wouldn't consent, like a lot of these other folks. Let me describe him. White with red trim wireless BOSE headphones...which had no music playing, mirrored amber colored shades, and a hat that identified him as a member of the Big Slick Poker Academy. This guy was the 'real deal.' Oh and he had 60k...which was likely more chips than he'd ever had in front of him in his life. He just kept feeding me chips. It was beautiful. All the while, he's talking about 'the game' as though he'd been doing it all his life. Now...all of this might be convincing unless you were/are someone who actually does do this a LOT...and is noticing all the 'little signs' that identify him as a newbie pretender. The dead, and final give away...was during the bag up...when he was utterly baffled as to how to carry out the whole process. This just gave me great joy. White sheet...DEALER. Yellow sheet...BAG! Pink sheet...YOU! Is it really THAT tough? What to write on bag? NAME/CHIP COUNT/TABLE ASSIGNMENT. Easy. Three things! OH...you can't figure out how to seal the bag? So...when exactly WILL you be teaching classes at the Big Slick Poker Academy? Dipshit.
But he wasn't even the biggest dipshit. No...that title goes to the 60+ year old hillbilly with the almost bald head...but pony tail going down to the middle of his back. See...tomorrow (actually today) there is a 12 noon $365 turbo event. Some of us (yeah me) are still competing for Casino Champion, yes, I'd definitely probably need a win...but I am at least within striking distance...and with only being able to play Non-Caesar's owned events for now...I only get a few chances to add to my current point total of 62.5 Freeroll points. So obviously I would like to have kept playing...as did everyone else. All the other tourneys have played til Level 15. But on the structure sheet...this event was reportedly only playing 12 levels. No one was liking that...and the floor guys let us all vote on it...willing to let us play 15 levels, and at the least, get into the money (12 players) and at best, make it down to the final table of 9. I was now in good shape with 44k. And I wanted to get as deep as possible. Who wants to come back with 17 players...5 away from the money?
Answer: No one! Except for Mr Barren Desert in the Front, Party in the Back. His rationale? "I played it knowing it would only play 12 levels...and that is what I'm sticking to." Ugh...sir, does it bother you that ALL 16 other players want to keep playing? That some people would like to play tomorrow's noon tourney? And also...did you notice that you only have 7 big blinds? He didn't care. I have a feeling this might be the first time he's ever bagged chips...and he just wanted that special thrill. Maybe he has a big 'rail' that will show up to watch him turn his 7 big blinds into an amazing title and WSOP glory capped with a $473 gold ring that he can show to all his friends at the Eagle's Club. Who knows. But we all left very pissed.
Oh...and incidentally...upon my departure from my Main Event table, I quipped to Kris, you know? The sad thing? Is that those chips he just took from me? Are just gonna get redistributed right back to you guys. Dead on. Went back over there on our first break in that 5pm tourney...and guess who was no longer at the table. Uh huh. That guy. The dream crusher. Never fails.
So...here it is 12:42pm on Sunday....and as badly as I'd have liked to go in at noon and play that $365 1-day Turbo...how smart would that be? The return time for us 17 players left in the Bitter Bowl is 3pm. How many chips, exactly, would I need to accumulate to feel comfortable walking away from to play the restart for Event 11? The answer is WAY TOO MANY...which isn't very likely, so instead of just setting $365 on fire, I elected to write a blog, play with Carley, watch some football, get caught up on all my pools...then go in fresh and dialed in to try and win my 2nd ring, rack up 50 pts, close out my IP event on a strong note and show a profit for this circuit event.
Hope you are all having a good weekend.
MONKEY
Then there is this one guy. By most standards you'd consider him 'normal.' Until this: "Excuse me...where are you heading?" Huh? Are you talking to me? Yes...yes he was. Why are you asking me where I'm heading, I inquired? Oh...well...because, despite it being 2am...he claims he was supposed to have been picked up by a 'friend' at 12:00....PM! Like, yeah...14 hours ago. To travel to a town I'd never heard of 35 minutes north. 14 hours! Surely this guy was kidding? I ask the person in valet if this sounded right? "Oh...yeah...that guy has been sitting there for a long time."
"Sir, I would love to help you...but I have a tremendous phobia of getting robbed and possibly killed....so I will have to say no. Good luck to you though."
I finally get my car...the midget in valet has once again left my seat pinned almost to my dashboard...and raised to the ceiling, so I spend the required time adjusting my seat so I can actually ENTER my car. Then on the way...turning left off of the freeway...this lady is literally in the middle of the intersection...like, she'd just STOPPED when she realized she'd run the red light. And since it was two lanes...and cars were going by me on the right, I couldn't even go around her. I sat looking at her...with that face...you know the one? That sort of....'what the fuck?' face? I felt bad for her...she looked panic stricken. I tried waving her to just go...but she wouldn't. It was awkward. I was so glad to finally get to my driveway,...where I sat for about 5 minutes thinking about my day.
I played Main Event Flight A...on a ticket I won in the Mega. At one point I doubled from 12k to 25k...then had a guy...who smelled (not making this up) like he had been soaked in old bourbon...rolled in animal feces, and decided to go play a poker tourney. In THREE minutes the entire table had their shirts up over their face. On his second hand...at 300/600...he moves all in with 97 offsuit. I happened to find KK on the button. I win. He leaves. And everyone at that table now has clothes that resemble Jerry Seinfeld's car after that trip through valet. For the fear of spores attaching themselves to my clothes...and spreading like ebola to my other clothes once I got home....I took off my clothes in the driveway, poured gasoline on them...and lit them on fire. I'll miss that t-shirt. And jeans. The greater good.
That put me at 40k. Then I raise with AK. I get called by the small blind. Flop comes KK5. Wow. He checks. I C-bet. He raises! What? Makes no sense. I'm thinking maybe K10 or KJ. This could be really nice...and get me to almost 75k. Turn is a 3. Now he bets 6k. Strange. I just call. The river is a deuce. He bets 8k. I think most players would have raised at some point in there. I'm glad I didn't. I just called. Pocket fives. Boat. Ugh. Gross. I then struggle and grind 10 bb's for about 3 or 4 levels..and sit thought a 90 minute dinner break. Come back...patiently grind...moving in a couple times to pick up the occasional 'round of M' to keep me afloat. Then down to 5 BB's...I shove Q10c UTG...and get called by Ryan Ennis with pocket tens. Nice hand sir. Whoa! Queen in the window! Followed by a 10! One-outer. And no queen would follow...I was out. And bummed. Was gonna play the 10pm $240 Mega...but then as I was about to register, noticed it was 10 minute levels. Super Turbo. A $240 that takes $50 in juice. Gives you only 3000 starting chips. Um...yeah, no thanks. I'd rather just go get a good night of sleep, and pay the full $1675. Which is what I did.
Came back good and refreshed. Squirrel had to work, and I'd managed to line up a babysitter, Carley's daycare teacher....or who WAS her teacher until next week, when they've decided to move her up to an advanced class. She is such a nice girl, and Carley loves her...so getting her to take Carley for the day was awesome. I drove her to meet Bobbi Sue and got to the IP about 45 minutes early. Weird feeling. Had a pretty good table draw. A few guys I know pretty well, Kris Kent, Nick (from Louisiana who's last name I always forget-great guy, solid player) and TK Miles. Then later that crazy Russian Dimitri would come to our table and talk everyone's ear off!
I had a modest start....+2250 at the first break. But then, from there, it was kind of a brutal, torturous grind. I got down to 6100....when, with a raiser, and a re-raiser....and a call...I look at KK in the SB and shove all in, getting called by Nick with AK, while the guy with 10-10 folded. I held...and was back in business. That didn't last long. This goofy looking mutant...and if you play down here...you know EXACTLY what I'm talking about...shows up at our table, and I say "I hope you play as bad as the last guy who sat in that chair!" Oh...he did, and worse.
He was fond of limping. Very fond. He would donk off chips, then get lucky and chip back up. On one hand I raised with QQ. He called. The flop came K-4-4. He confusingly checked. I bet a normal c-bet amount. And he looks at his cards....makes a motion to fold...then does a 180 and shoves all in. WTF? Whatever...I fold. Well, I was so wanting to get rid of this guy. Ever just have a guy sit down...who you observe for awhile...and just KNOW...that this is gonna be the idiot who ruins you? And your chance to win a tourney that will let you buy a house? Something about this clown was screaming that...so I wanted to take every chance to bust him. My chance arrived.
He limps in for 1000. Two others call. I find 99 on the button. I make it 3200 to go. He sits there, blinking like an iguana and a hot desert boulder....I'm waiting for his tongue to flicker....then he all of a sudden goes all in for 18k. Makes no sense. The others fold. I decide to call..and he turns over AJ offsuit. Pffft. Nice move buddy. The dealer puts all rags on the flop. Nice. Turn. Nothing. One card away from having 27k and being in good shape. Whooops, sorry, Monkey....stupidity gets rewarded again...ace of hearts on the river. Two or three guys just look at me and shake their head. Kris Kent quips "Monkey, I've never seen someone get beat on the river as much as I've seen you lose on the river over the years. It's crazy!" Yes, Kris...it is, indeed, crazy. I was left with 2500 chips.
Those eventually went in with KJ...and I was called by the one guy (from Atlanta) who I hadn't seemed to be able to beat all day...who turned over AQ. At least I was live. He flopped two aces...and I was dead. Main Event...over. Shit.
It's weird because for the past few years...I've run so lousy in prelim events...but then cash in almost all the Main Events....which, as noted earlier, is not a terrible thing. But this week? I've been kind of crushing the prelim events...but then get smoked with both bullets in the Main. Not something I'm proud of, or happy about.
So since it was 6:30....I had the chance to climb into Ring Event #11...a $365 tourney. Why not? I renamed it the Loser's Bracket's Bitter Bowl...consisting of mainly forlorn, saddened players who were no longer toiling in the Main Event. I sit down...and played like a maniac....opening super light...throwing bluffs left and right...floating with nothing and hitting. It was crazy. Then actually get a couple good hands and get paid off...before I knew it I had 26k and was running over the table. Looked up and saw 86 players. Hmmm...this might be the easiest final table I ever make!
Then the shit hits the fan, And it all happened on one dealers' down. It was a whirlwind...flopping two pair...betting flop, betting turn...and getting rivered...by a flush, by a better two pair. Left, right, knee to the groin, punch to the head...gouged eye...I was battered and bloodied and now down to...yes...1600 chips! At 300/600. So much for waltzing to the final table. I wasn't even going to make the money!
Or was I? I shove all in with 9-10 on the button. Get called by A2 and BB's unknown hand. Flop comes K-2-5, two clubs. Ugh. When the small blind leads out I figured I was dead meat. BB folds. I see his hand...and thank him for betting the other guy out of the hand...then turn a nine, that holds! Boom! Triple up. I won't bore you with the rest....I went on a massive heater. Then get moved to a new table at 27 players...seated next to...we'll just call him Mr. Poker.
Gawd I wish I could show you a picture. But he wouldn't consent, like a lot of these other folks. Let me describe him. White with red trim wireless BOSE headphones...which had no music playing, mirrored amber colored shades, and a hat that identified him as a member of the Big Slick Poker Academy. This guy was the 'real deal.' Oh and he had 60k...which was likely more chips than he'd ever had in front of him in his life. He just kept feeding me chips. It was beautiful. All the while, he's talking about 'the game' as though he'd been doing it all his life. Now...all of this might be convincing unless you were/are someone who actually does do this a LOT...and is noticing all the 'little signs' that identify him as a newbie pretender. The dead, and final give away...was during the bag up...when he was utterly baffled as to how to carry out the whole process. This just gave me great joy. White sheet...DEALER. Yellow sheet...BAG! Pink sheet...YOU! Is it really THAT tough? What to write on bag? NAME/CHIP COUNT/TABLE ASSIGNMENT. Easy. Three things! OH...you can't figure out how to seal the bag? So...when exactly WILL you be teaching classes at the Big Slick Poker Academy? Dipshit.
But he wasn't even the biggest dipshit. No...that title goes to the 60+ year old hillbilly with the almost bald head...but pony tail going down to the middle of his back. See...tomorrow (actually today) there is a 12 noon $365 turbo event. Some of us (yeah me) are still competing for Casino Champion, yes, I'd definitely probably need a win...but I am at least within striking distance...and with only being able to play Non-Caesar's owned events for now...I only get a few chances to add to my current point total of 62.5 Freeroll points. So obviously I would like to have kept playing...as did everyone else. All the other tourneys have played til Level 15. But on the structure sheet...this event was reportedly only playing 12 levels. No one was liking that...and the floor guys let us all vote on it...willing to let us play 15 levels, and at the least, get into the money (12 players) and at best, make it down to the final table of 9. I was now in good shape with 44k. And I wanted to get as deep as possible. Who wants to come back with 17 players...5 away from the money?
Answer: No one! Except for Mr Barren Desert in the Front, Party in the Back. His rationale? "I played it knowing it would only play 12 levels...and that is what I'm sticking to." Ugh...sir, does it bother you that ALL 16 other players want to keep playing? That some people would like to play tomorrow's noon tourney? And also...did you notice that you only have 7 big blinds? He didn't care. I have a feeling this might be the first time he's ever bagged chips...and he just wanted that special thrill. Maybe he has a big 'rail' that will show up to watch him turn his 7 big blinds into an amazing title and WSOP glory capped with a $473 gold ring that he can show to all his friends at the Eagle's Club. Who knows. But we all left very pissed.
Oh...and incidentally...upon my departure from my Main Event table, I quipped to Kris, you know? The sad thing? Is that those chips he just took from me? Are just gonna get redistributed right back to you guys. Dead on. Went back over there on our first break in that 5pm tourney...and guess who was no longer at the table. Uh huh. That guy. The dream crusher. Never fails.
So...here it is 12:42pm on Sunday....and as badly as I'd have liked to go in at noon and play that $365 1-day Turbo...how smart would that be? The return time for us 17 players left in the Bitter Bowl is 3pm. How many chips, exactly, would I need to accumulate to feel comfortable walking away from to play the restart for Event 11? The answer is WAY TOO MANY...which isn't very likely, so instead of just setting $365 on fire, I elected to write a blog, play with Carley, watch some football, get caught up on all my pools...then go in fresh and dialed in to try and win my 2nd ring, rack up 50 pts, close out my IP event on a strong note and show a profit for this circuit event.
Hope you are all having a good weekend.
MONKEY
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