Yesterday I decided to not play the $1600 noon tourney...not expecting much of a turnout. So I went to the pool. As it has happened all three summers that I have stayed here at the Riviera..its again been taken over by the Irish folks. A bunch of football clubs all meet here for some kind of convention and they basically take over.
This creates a nightmare for the Riviera 'Pool Cop.' This guy is about 70 and they have built a hut for him...an enclosed air conditioned house...that has a sign on it that says NO DIVING. And this, I'm led to believe is his sole reason for existing. Busting the people who have decided to make the thrill-seeking decision to DIVE into the pool...which by the way is 13-feet deep. Why build a pool that deep if you aren't going to allow people to dive into it?
It's kind of funny though...to sit there...and watching all these Irish nut bags diving, one after the other...and watching Barney Fife going speed-walking out to the edge of the pool...arms swinging, hunched over due to his poor posture...and hollering at the top of his lungs at the 'offender.' At night he is relieved by someone of similar stature...who just sits in that hut hopefully watching TV, or that job would drive any normal person to kill themselves. My big plan for the last night here...is to walk by the pool at around 10pm...fully clothed....then climb up the lifeguard stand...and do a magnificent swan dive into the pool. I might set up my phone a few feet away and have it set on video record...to see if I can create a masterpiece for YouTube.
By the way. Do you have a hairy back, like I do? Not sick nasty hairy...just kind of ....too hairy for public consumption? Here is what NOT to try.
What are you looking at you ask? That is a back scratcher...that, what do they call it? That word? When it pulls out like an old-school radio antennae? Telescopic? Well I first tried to use electrical tape to attach my trimmers to the 'wand' and trim the back hair. Failure. I then tried taping my razor to it...and using that method. Also failed in that task. I entertained thoughts of offering my maid $20 to do it for me. I finally got super loosened up and went monkey on myself. Getting all but the tiniest of patches...which after a day in the sun sort of blended into my tan!!! Fun story, eh?
Yesterday....one of these drunk fools puked in the pool. They hurriedly evacuated the pool and closed it for two hours. When I asked the reason, they all (seemingly on cue) told me 'we can't tell you why, we aren't allowed to.' Huh? Well, a stroll around the pool provided me the reason.
Not sure where I left off the other day...but I produced a fourth place finish in the $500 tourney with 303 players for $8800. Down to half a big blind I ran it up to 1.1m...with a chance to take a monster chip lead when the eventual winner shoved all in over a raiser...with me finding AK in the BB. I missed and his 99 held. Earlier in the tourney...someone I know came by and asked why I didn't have my monkey on the table...not knowing that I have stopped using my monkey...last year. So in a bit of a spoof that had all the spectators laughing...I started digging out monkeys from my bag and had the entire collection set up around my chip stack.
Speaking of chip stack. Look at this incredible architectural marvel! My friend Gordon Hardy from Pensacola was in the cash room when I went over on break last night to say hi to someone...and was stopped in my tracks by his creation. Maybe the most amazing chip stack ever. Good thing he was playing 4/8 limit...he likely didn't have any major decisions on which 'wing' to deconstruct if he got wrapped up in a big hand!!! Good stuff Gordon!!!
I won the 7pm Survivor tourney on Sunday night...finally, after bubbling the damn thing (or nearly bubbling it) the previous four times I played the Survivor. It wasn't a full win though. It was paying 7 spots. And when we got to 10 they all wanted to do an even chop for $1675 each. I had the 2nd shortest stack...and since I was in for two bullets ($600 total) didn't really want to screw my backers over by not cashing...and didn't really want to be the ONLY dissenter...plus it was a good bunch of guys, including fellow Gulf Coaster Guy Turner...who had just flown in that night and was playing in his first contest of his trip.
I've had two cash sessions at my hotel, the Riviera. I've lost $600. So, its a reflection on just how screwy poker is. I can beat some of the best tourney players in the world...consistently, but when faced against mutants I seem to never win.
The first session, it was this guy...who as soon as I sat down put me on life tilt...hemming and hawing on EVERY hand...providing a long-winded explanation for why he was either playing the hand, or not playing the hand, why he was folding, or raising...or whatever. It was torture. He would decide my raise of $10 was foolish...and re-raise me to $100...leaving $60 behind....I had AKs and shoved on him. He called with AQ. He rivered a king...I said HE rivered a king...yes...because my king gave him a straight.
It was a collection of hands like that. Losing with AA to KK. Then you had these two beauties at the end of the table...who were lovers.
Thank god for them...they found each other. They were the resident call stations. No raise was too high. No price was too high to chase a flush or a straight. Pot control took on a whole new meaning at this table. You simply either decided NOT to bet...hoping your hand would hold up....or bet enought to make it profitable if you somehow held and won the hand....but keeping the bets small enough so you still had fold equity on the river when you knew they hit. Granted, they would always help you out by betting WAY too much on the river...when anyone with 5 tenths of a clue knew they had made their hand. It was just stupid. And it was on the eve of my return for the first final table...where I would get 3rd for $22k almost. The irony wasn't lost on me...that I was getting manhandled at this cash table despite outlasting 718 tourney players that day.
Last night, after three bullets, I walk in, and decide...what the hell, I see all these drunk Irish maniacs at the table...maybe I will get lucky and get at least part of my three bullets in the nightly back. I buy in for $300. As soon as I sit down this old Irish guy with about four teeth and horrible whiskey breath blurts out at me...."Hey...(*@#$(*& QO&@*($& @(*&@ YU((S[p" I would like to tell you what he said...and spell it correctly, but the truth was...I had no effing idea what he said. I looked at him with a blank gaze...genuinely trying to replay what he said in my mind about four times...kind of like what I used to do (and still do once in awhile still) when my wife blurts something out in her Southern (Alabama) accent...but no matter how many times I tried to figure it out...none of it made sense. So I asked him: "I'm sorry...what did you say?"
And he repeated it. O*@#$* @*($*(@$# )(_+_@*(@&_!+@#KNSDI R(*@#&$ .........
I gave up. And put on my headphones.
Two hands later, I pick up AJc. I raise to $10. I get 5 callers. Three of them Irish drunkards. The flop comes Jd-3c-7c. Wow. I bet 25. No need to run them off. Three of them call. Wow. The turn is an 8 of diamonds...no improvement...but surely I'm good still. I bet $60. The two Irish guys call. WTF? The one guy...the indecipherable toothless guy...calls the $60 and leaves $30 behind. Standard Riviera cash player play. The river is a 6. Not a club. Regrettably...as that would have surely sealed the deal. I bet $100. Now the guy next to me goes all in. Huh? What the fuck? The other guy folds his last $30. Weird. I don't have much left...and the only hand besides a set I'm seeing is 4-5 for a gutshot straight. Would he really chase that? Two pair somehow? Screw it, I paid him off. 4-5. Straight. On the river. Paid $85 to chase that sucker down. I told him nice hand, got up...and left. No need to sit through a late night of that bullshit. Sleep is so much more attractive.
This could have been something I dreamed....except I'm pretty sure I saw it on the TV while sitting there playing cash for 17 minutes...did Kanye West and Kim Karfatshian have their baby and seriously name it Kimye? And did they really have birth in a bathtub filled with Crystal champagne? If this is true...and something tells me it is...I think its time to stage a mutiny against all things reality-show related. Enough is enough.
Happy Birthday to my friend Barth Melius...who left Vegas to go home for a week, leaving me with no real wing man for the rest of my trip here.
Also happy birthday to Squirrel's daddy...Sonny...who might not still be with us here on Earth...but I'm sure he is running good up in heaven...and still looking down on us, providing us with a little reminder that he is still thinking of us. Cheryl misses him so much...and this Sunday is Father's Day...which will be even harder for her. Her courage through this terrible experience losing her father has been remarkable. And this week her Mother came down from Florence to spend the week with her and Carley...who was awfully happy to see her Mimi. We are so lucky to have such a wonderful family on both sides. I love knowing that while I am gone they are in such good hands.
Well...guess that is enough for today. I am going to play the $100k Guarantee at the Wynn today in their Wynn Summer Classic. Today and tomorrow at Venetian is an $1100 Flight A and Flight B tourney...that I think should draw pretty well. I prefer to play Flight B (unless I final table this Wynn tourney-preferable outcome) because you get a lot of players who play that first flight very reckless...knowing they can still come back and try again the next day. I'd rather play Flight B and fade all those potential land mines. And save my backers that second possible bullet. I want to make sure that when this trip is over they all still get a nice return on their investment.
MONKEY
This creates a nightmare for the Riviera 'Pool Cop.' This guy is about 70 and they have built a hut for him...an enclosed air conditioned house...that has a sign on it that says NO DIVING. And this, I'm led to believe is his sole reason for existing. Busting the people who have decided to make the thrill-seeking decision to DIVE into the pool...which by the way is 13-feet deep. Why build a pool that deep if you aren't going to allow people to dive into it?
It's kind of funny though...to sit there...and watching all these Irish nut bags diving, one after the other...and watching Barney Fife going speed-walking out to the edge of the pool...arms swinging, hunched over due to his poor posture...and hollering at the top of his lungs at the 'offender.' At night he is relieved by someone of similar stature...who just sits in that hut hopefully watching TV, or that job would drive any normal person to kill themselves. My big plan for the last night here...is to walk by the pool at around 10pm...fully clothed....then climb up the lifeguard stand...and do a magnificent swan dive into the pool. I might set up my phone a few feet away and have it set on video record...to see if I can create a masterpiece for YouTube.
By the way. Do you have a hairy back, like I do? Not sick nasty hairy...just kind of ....too hairy for public consumption? Here is what NOT to try.
What are you looking at you ask? That is a back scratcher...that, what do they call it? That word? When it pulls out like an old-school radio antennae? Telescopic? Well I first tried to use electrical tape to attach my trimmers to the 'wand' and trim the back hair. Failure. I then tried taping my razor to it...and using that method. Also failed in that task. I entertained thoughts of offering my maid $20 to do it for me. I finally got super loosened up and went monkey on myself. Getting all but the tiniest of patches...which after a day in the sun sort of blended into my tan!!! Fun story, eh?
Yesterday....one of these drunk fools puked in the pool. They hurriedly evacuated the pool and closed it for two hours. When I asked the reason, they all (seemingly on cue) told me 'we can't tell you why, we aren't allowed to.' Huh? Well, a stroll around the pool provided me the reason.
Not sure where I left off the other day...but I produced a fourth place finish in the $500 tourney with 303 players for $8800. Down to half a big blind I ran it up to 1.1m...with a chance to take a monster chip lead when the eventual winner shoved all in over a raiser...with me finding AK in the BB. I missed and his 99 held. Earlier in the tourney...someone I know came by and asked why I didn't have my monkey on the table...not knowing that I have stopped using my monkey...last year. So in a bit of a spoof that had all the spectators laughing...I started digging out monkeys from my bag and had the entire collection set up around my chip stack.
Speaking of chip stack. Look at this incredible architectural marvel! My friend Gordon Hardy from Pensacola was in the cash room when I went over on break last night to say hi to someone...and was stopped in my tracks by his creation. Maybe the most amazing chip stack ever. Good thing he was playing 4/8 limit...he likely didn't have any major decisions on which 'wing' to deconstruct if he got wrapped up in a big hand!!! Good stuff Gordon!!!
I won the 7pm Survivor tourney on Sunday night...finally, after bubbling the damn thing (or nearly bubbling it) the previous four times I played the Survivor. It wasn't a full win though. It was paying 7 spots. And when we got to 10 they all wanted to do an even chop for $1675 each. I had the 2nd shortest stack...and since I was in for two bullets ($600 total) didn't really want to screw my backers over by not cashing...and didn't really want to be the ONLY dissenter...plus it was a good bunch of guys, including fellow Gulf Coaster Guy Turner...who had just flown in that night and was playing in his first contest of his trip.
I've had two cash sessions at my hotel, the Riviera. I've lost $600. So, its a reflection on just how screwy poker is. I can beat some of the best tourney players in the world...consistently, but when faced against mutants I seem to never win.
The first session, it was this guy...who as soon as I sat down put me on life tilt...hemming and hawing on EVERY hand...providing a long-winded explanation for why he was either playing the hand, or not playing the hand, why he was folding, or raising...or whatever. It was torture. He would decide my raise of $10 was foolish...and re-raise me to $100...leaving $60 behind....I had AKs and shoved on him. He called with AQ. He rivered a king...I said HE rivered a king...yes...because my king gave him a straight.
It was a collection of hands like that. Losing with AA to KK. Then you had these two beauties at the end of the table...who were lovers.
Thank god for them...they found each other. They were the resident call stations. No raise was too high. No price was too high to chase a flush or a straight. Pot control took on a whole new meaning at this table. You simply either decided NOT to bet...hoping your hand would hold up....or bet enought to make it profitable if you somehow held and won the hand....but keeping the bets small enough so you still had fold equity on the river when you knew they hit. Granted, they would always help you out by betting WAY too much on the river...when anyone with 5 tenths of a clue knew they had made their hand. It was just stupid. And it was on the eve of my return for the first final table...where I would get 3rd for $22k almost. The irony wasn't lost on me...that I was getting manhandled at this cash table despite outlasting 718 tourney players that day.
Last night, after three bullets, I walk in, and decide...what the hell, I see all these drunk Irish maniacs at the table...maybe I will get lucky and get at least part of my three bullets in the nightly back. I buy in for $300. As soon as I sit down this old Irish guy with about four teeth and horrible whiskey breath blurts out at me...."Hey...(*@#$(*& QO&@*($& @(*&@ YU((S[p" I would like to tell you what he said...and spell it correctly, but the truth was...I had no effing idea what he said. I looked at him with a blank gaze...genuinely trying to replay what he said in my mind about four times...kind of like what I used to do (and still do once in awhile still) when my wife blurts something out in her Southern (Alabama) accent...but no matter how many times I tried to figure it out...none of it made sense. So I asked him: "I'm sorry...what did you say?"
And he repeated it. O*@#$* @*($*(@$# )(_+_@*(@&_!+@#KNSDI R(*@#&$ .........
I gave up. And put on my headphones.
Two hands later, I pick up AJc. I raise to $10. I get 5 callers. Three of them Irish drunkards. The flop comes Jd-3c-7c. Wow. I bet 25. No need to run them off. Three of them call. Wow. The turn is an 8 of diamonds...no improvement...but surely I'm good still. I bet $60. The two Irish guys call. WTF? The one guy...the indecipherable toothless guy...calls the $60 and leaves $30 behind. Standard Riviera cash player play. The river is a 6. Not a club. Regrettably...as that would have surely sealed the deal. I bet $100. Now the guy next to me goes all in. Huh? What the fuck? The other guy folds his last $30. Weird. I don't have much left...and the only hand besides a set I'm seeing is 4-5 for a gutshot straight. Would he really chase that? Two pair somehow? Screw it, I paid him off. 4-5. Straight. On the river. Paid $85 to chase that sucker down. I told him nice hand, got up...and left. No need to sit through a late night of that bullshit. Sleep is so much more attractive.
This could have been something I dreamed....except I'm pretty sure I saw it on the TV while sitting there playing cash for 17 minutes...did Kanye West and Kim Karfatshian have their baby and seriously name it Kimye? And did they really have birth in a bathtub filled with Crystal champagne? If this is true...and something tells me it is...I think its time to stage a mutiny against all things reality-show related. Enough is enough.
Happy Birthday to my friend Barth Melius...who left Vegas to go home for a week, leaving me with no real wing man for the rest of my trip here.
Also happy birthday to Squirrel's daddy...Sonny...who might not still be with us here on Earth...but I'm sure he is running good up in heaven...and still looking down on us, providing us with a little reminder that he is still thinking of us. Cheryl misses him so much...and this Sunday is Father's Day...which will be even harder for her. Her courage through this terrible experience losing her father has been remarkable. And this week her Mother came down from Florence to spend the week with her and Carley...who was awfully happy to see her Mimi. We are so lucky to have such a wonderful family on both sides. I love knowing that while I am gone they are in such good hands.
Well...guess that is enough for today. I am going to play the $100k Guarantee at the Wynn today in their Wynn Summer Classic. Today and tomorrow at Venetian is an $1100 Flight A and Flight B tourney...that I think should draw pretty well. I prefer to play Flight B (unless I final table this Wynn tourney-preferable outcome) because you get a lot of players who play that first flight very reckless...knowing they can still come back and try again the next day. I'd rather play Flight B and fade all those potential land mines. And save my backers that second possible bullet. I want to make sure that when this trip is over they all still get a nice return on their investment.
MONKEY
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