A Dream Come True...

Something happens when you're a little boy. Well...but before that happens, you're father (typically father, the occasional single mom) decides it's time for you to take up sports. So they drag you off to t-ball, or soccer. Even basketball. Some kids take to it right away and it becomes a part of their DNA. A smaller group reject it, and grow up to be fashion designers or theater actors. 

For those of us who decide we like sports, and make it part of our daily lives, we eventually start noticing the sports we are playing, being played on our television. By bigger, much more talented, men. Men wearing cool uniforms. Some of us kids lived in big cities that had professional teams...and those teams became the teams we rooted for. And so this story repeats itself, over and over, for decades and decades all around our world.

In the United States, one of those sports that capture our imagination at a young age is football. Almost all little boys find their favorite football team at an early age. When I was 8, I was living in Kalispell, Montana with my Mom and her asshole of a 3rd husband...who would spend the next 8 years physically abusing me. To his credit....and the ONLY thing I credit him with, he did introduce me to sports, and even took the time to teach me to be good at them. Granted, this was more about him not wanting to be embarrassed by a kid he had to take credit for. Since he claimed (and certainly had the trophies to prove it, which my little brother and I ended up burning in a garage stove one day while cleaning up the garage, not realizing their significance; yes, that resulted in an incredibly painful beatdown from his Royal Assholeness) to have been a great athlete in 'his day.' 

Living in Montana...I had a few choices as my favorite team. The Seahawks hadn't been born yet. It was 1975. I could root for the Broncos. Or the Vikings. Geographically they were the closest. I was a little partial to the Green Bay Packers...because I liked their colors. But for some reason, I became a Baltimore Colts fan. Bert Jones was my favorite player. Which would never happen today, since Bert was an LSU guy. Him and Lydell Mitchell. Those were my first memories. Those Colt teams were always really good, but always stumbled just a step shy of the Super Bowl....losing to either Oakland, New England or Pittsburgh. My memories of the NFL as a kid were almost magical. Super Bowl Sunday was a vacation from the abuse of my step father. It was that day when nothing could go wrong. I would wake up early....watch the all-day-long pregame show...biding the time before the big game started. And those first four Super Bowls were all spent watching from my Baltimore Colts bean bag chair.

So, in 1980, shortly after the eruption of Mt. St. Helens, which blanketed our town in volcanic ash and turned daytime into nighttime in the time it took for the cloud of ash to travel over our town, my step-dad's business went bankrupt. A lot of that had to do with his drinking and gambling. It was time to pack up and move back to Seattle, where we had come from 6 years earlier...where my mother had quit a great job, and moved out of a house she owned on her own. In other words....gave up a good life to pursue one with 'The Prick.' I became the new kid in school, settling in at Rose Hill Jr High in Kirkland...which at the time, was the city where the Seattle Seahawk's headquarters were...and who practiced just down the road from my school.

The Seattle Seahawks...who in their first four seasons had certainly never made the playoffs...but who gave fans a thrill almost every Sunday, at home in the Kingdome, or on the road. They had Jim Zorn at quarterback, Steve Largent at wide receiver and were coached by Jack Patera, who ran a wide-open offense that featured a lot of trick plays. There were seldom games that weren't exciting. They didn't win a whole lot...but boy were they fun to watch. And there were never games in Seattle that weren't sold out. Weekends as a kid in Seattle were incredible, with the Huskies playing on Saturday...followed by the Seahawks on Sunday. Nothing but loud, packed houses for both...every game.

About the same time my mom divorced 'The Prick' the Seahawks made a bold move...bringing in former Rams and Buffalo coach, Chuck Knox, a man who'd taken a team (LA Rams 1979) to the Super Bowl...and had plenty of playoff success. Later, in my junior year at Redmond High School, playing in a football game against Bellevue High, I would be ran over...no no...I mean...like flattened, trampled...by running back Chuck Knox, Jr...who would lead Bellevue to the State Title, and follow that up with a career at the University of Arizona. Coach Knox turned the Seahawks into winners. New quarterback Dave Krieg was handing the ball off to Curt Warner. He was passing to All-Pro and future Hall of Famer Steve Largent. The defense was tough....led by Future Ring of Honor Seahawks like Jacob Green and Kenny Easley. Monday night football in the Kingdome was the loudest place on Earth...and when the Raiders came to town...or the Broncos...in an AFC West showdown...it would turn the town blue all week. These were the Seahawks of my childhood.

In 1983....while I was in the midst of my juvenile delinquent stage....my mother packed up my brother and I and we drove to Kalispell, to spend Christmas with my grandparents. By this time, I  had a job bussing tables at a restaurant. I also was getting into a lot of trouble. I liked parties...attending them, and hosting them. Well, I had planned a party for the weekend after Christmas, a New Year's Eve party at the condo we lived in. I had convinced my mother that I had to be back to work New Year's Eve at my job...and she was going to let me go home on a bus...or maybe it was a train. I don't recall. Well, my mom, being the eternal snoop, peeked into a Christmas card from a buddy of mine, Grant McKenzie...who said something to the tune of "your party is gonna be awesome!" and next thing you know, I was banned from going home. Shit!

I couldn't accept that. After all, I had 100's of people from three different high schools all planning to come to my house. Was I going to risk my popularity by not being there? Hell no! It wasn't even an option. So when they all went out to shop, I packed up my stuff and hitch hiked to the bus station, where I bought a ticket and waited to leave. I boarded the bus...and then damn, here came the police. Shit! They boarded the bus, tagged me, and pulled me off. They took me to jail and made me sit there....for two days. Oh, my mom could have gotten me out. But she didn't. She made me sit in there....to, you know, teach me a lesson. I know, that as a parent, it was probably the 'right' thing to do. But 30 years later, I can tell you...it didn't teach me anything. All it did was piss me off, and make me loathe my Grandfather (who I always despised, and who I figured was behind her decision to keep me in the can) even more. But the thing that pissed me off the most?

The Seattle Seahawks were in Miami....a week after winning their first playoff game in franchise history, 31-7 over the hated Denver Broncos in the wild-card game. They were there as huge underdogs to the Miami Dolphins, led by Hall of Famer Dan Marino. And I was sitting in jail. With no TV. Except I could hear the guards listening on a TV. I was furious. And Seattle would go on to win the game...27-20...sending them to the AFC Championship game...the only time they ever made it to the AFC Championship game, to face the L.A. Raiders.

I was freed from jail. We rode home to Seattle in complete silence. Even as my mother put the car into a 360 degree spin on an icy highway on a mountain pass in Idaho...I sat there, expressionless. That moment broke the ice a little bit between my mom and I...as she was clutching herself and screaming...only to look over at her 16 year old son who looked like he was on 5 hits of Xanax. Once home....it was a week of trepidation for the biggest game of my young life. There was just one little problem. I also would be serving one of my four court-ordered weekends in Juvenile Detention. Say what, you ask? Yeah...well, me and some buddies had a secret entry into the Kingdome that we had discovered a few years back...and we would sneak back in...to gain an advantage in the game of autograph hunting. All the other kids would have to wait for the players to come through the gate...and would have only 50 feet between the gate and the bus to work with. 

Yep! That was me! Rebel without a CLUE!

Not us. We would pin them down as soon as they walked out of the locker room. And security? Pfft. This was the early 80's folks...no one cared back then. I was piling up a mountain of autographs and memorabilia. We decided one day to take it up a notch. We got brave. We started letting ourselves into the locker rooms. Walking around....with some players still in there. We played on the whole 'cute kids' thing to perfection. Oh it was brilliant. Got to see how the clubhouse was laid out...with the spread of food in the middle of the room. Where all the TVs were, the training rooms. Very cool. We got a little bolder. Once the players all cleared out..we started taking things...like batting helmets, and bats. We made a nice score when the Yankees came to town. But then when the Red Sox came to town...we got REALLY greedy...and ended up taking an entire equipment bag to our car...well, my mom's car...that I was allowed to drive. 

As we were set to pull out from the Kingdome parking lot...someone yelled that they knew what we did, that they had taken down our license plate number and called the police. We drove a stealthy getaway route...back to our homes in Redmond, sure we had pulled the 'caper-of-the-century.' An investigator's call to our house the following Monday proved I hadn't gotten away with it. Long story short, I got busted. I had to give everything back. But....and very few people know this...I kept Jim Rice's batting helmet...and have used it for years. Jim Rice...number 44...who was GREAT...and who SHOULD be in the Hall of Fame. But mysteriously, he still isn't. Anyway...I was a kid, so I got off relatively light. My two friends, one a mormon, who's dad went to court and painted him as an angel who was led down the wrong path by me...the 'bad influence' kid from a broken home and the other; who's dad had a lot of pull, apparently in the court system, both skated with a slap on the wrist...while I did 'hard time' in 'Juvey' for four long weekends. Honestly though...it was a walk in the park.

But that is where I sat watching the 1983 AFC Championship game...won by the LA Raiders 30-16...who then went on to beat the Washington Redskins...a game where Marcus Allen would win the MVP award. The same Marcus Allen who I'd met, after the game while seeking autographs, after a Husky game two years prior, when the Huskies upset the #3 USC Trojans in the wind and the rain of Husky Stadium...in what, to that point...had been my greatest sports experience to date. You may be able to see that football played a pretty important role in my life as a kid!

The Seahawks lost that day...and it really hit me hard. All I could think about was the Super Bowl. How incredibly close we had come. And we missed. The next year, we would get revenge, beating the Raiders 13-7 in the Wild Card game in a raucous Kingdome...only to then lose to the Miami Dolphins...them getting revenge on us this time 31-10. Until 2005...we would make the playoffs five times....losing all five years in the first round...four of those wild-card matchups.

Then...in 2005...the magic returned. Shaun Alexander would rush for 1800+ yards, and an NFL record 28 TD's...Matt Hasselbeck was our steady, consistent QB...and we were led by a coach who had won a Super Bowl with Green Bay, and another great QB in Brett Favre. We went 13-3...then steam-rolled the Redskins and the Panthers to make it, for the first time ever...to the Super Bowl. I had now turned 40. I wasn't a kid anymore. I was in a committed relationship with the woman I would later marry. And I was faced with the decision of going to Detroit to see the game...or going to Vegas to watch it like a 'playa!' Well, Detroit as most of you know....is kind of a dump, not much to do or see there...and tickets were beyond expensive. So we chose to go to Vegas. We watched with a great bunch of people, and hung out a little with NASCAR driver Elliot Sadler. Squirrel and I were decked out in our Seahawks jersey...and while attending a party at the Bellagio, settled in to watch what I hoped would be our first Super Bowl victory.

Most of you know how that game turned out. A goal line ruling...by now- infamous referee Bill Leavy...turned the tide of the game...when Pittsburgh QB Ben Roethlisburger was ruled to have scored a TD when it was clear for all 100 million people watching that he never came close to crossing the goal line. Even after a video review! Then a phantom pass interference call...an 'illegal blocking' call on Hasselbeck, after he threw an interception and tackled the guy...was one of the most bizarre and unexplained calls in Super Bowl history. It was a collection of things that turned the game in Pittsburgh's favor...and led to what some deemed, the NFL's going away prize to Jerome Bettis, who retired after the game.  

(if you watched yesterday's Super Bowl...you might have heard Joe Buck's comment prior to kickoff when they were discussing the game's officials...."Not that Seattle would ever concern themselves with the officiating crew of a Super Bowl." Instant classic!)

I have spent the past 8 years being bitter about that game. All of my Pittsburgh fan/friends know it too, and haven't failed to miss any opportunity to turn the knife on many occasions. Our next four playoff appearances would go WIN, LOSS...WIN, LOSS ....WIN, LOSS and again, WIN, LOSS. Last year was especially painful....as we came from a big halftime deficit to catch the #1 seed Atlanta Falcons, in Atlanta...taking a lead with just 1 minute left...a minute that I was cringing about, feeling we'd left them too much time. I was in Choctaw...playing in that poker tourney....and as Marshawn Lynch crossed the goal line to take the lead...the Tournament Director was just announcing that we had made the money in their first huge event up there. It was a moment to feel good. A moment that was doused just a few minutes later when Matt Ryan led Atlanta to a game-winning field goal. Then five minutes after that...I was busted from the tourney. I retreated to my hotel room to mourn for the rest of the day.

I know this blog is long. I don't care. You have the option of moving on....

This year...we didn't sneak up on anyone. People knew our defense was for real. They knew this exciting rookie Russell Wilson was the real deal. Everyone was familiar with Beast Mode, and his penchant for Skittles! This was going to be the year of the Seahawks! Right? All the preseason predictions did NOTHING but make me nervous as hell. Usually, preseason expectations lead to postseason disappointment. But things stayed on track all year. A narrow loss in Indy made us 4-1 before we reeled off 7 in a row...some in not-so-impressive fashion, as we relied heavily on our defense while we played without our go-to receivers in Sidney Rice and prized free-agent acquisition Percy Harvin.

But there we were...11-1 and poised to win the division and clinch home-field advantage. But a loss on the road to San Francisco...a game I thought we actually played great...and served notice to the 49'ers that we would not be bullied, tightened up the race and made things scary. Then...we lost at home...for the first time in two seasons...to tough Arizona...who will be tough again next year too I think. It might have been a blessing for us...as I look at it now...letting the team know they still had to give 100% to win at home...that those automatic wins weren't so automatic. We were 12-3 now...and were at serious risk to fall to a wild card. If we lost at home to the always-pain-in-the-ass Rams...and San Fran won at Arizona....that would be the outcome.

Forget it. The birds took care of business...crushing the Rams...clinching everything, and setting up the perfect scenario. TWO WINS...two wins in front of the 12th man...to return to the Super Bowl for the first time in 8 years. First up....Saints.

This was kind of bittersweet...as I like the Saints. Love Drew Brees. Love their coming back from the scrap heap of Bounty Gate a year prior. And it's my wife's favorite team. And of course, a lot of my friends down here on the coast. But my loyalties lay with my Seahawks. Not even close. And it was a dominating performance by Seattle for 3 and a half quarters...until a little late game heroics by Brees nearly brought them back. Nothing comes easy as a Seahawks fan!

This set up the NFC Championship game that EVERYONE in Seattle was clamoring for. There is a deep-seeded hatred for the 49ers. In fact...when I lived in Seattle, the people with all their money from the Bay Area were invading Seattle, and driving up real estate values...which resulted in a major backlash in people's feelings towards Northern Californians in general. So it wasn't just about sports. Seattle residents HATE almost all things Bay Area-related. Back in the days of the AFC West it was the Raiders.

The Niner fans took up a collection and bought several billboards along the freeway that leads to the stadium, mocking Seahawks fans for rooting for a team with NO Lombardi Trophies, where the Niners have 5. 'Got Trophies?' Fuck you SF! What have you won lately? Kind of the same thing the Dallas Cowboys fans do (to even more ridiculous lengths)...brag about all their past Super Bowl glory...despite not having won (or played in) a Super Bowl since 1996. And San Fran hasn't won one since 1995. So both of you can stick a sock in it!

Before the game started, I told a lot of people I was more concerned, and nervous, about that game...then I was in a potential Super Bowl matchup against either New England or Denver. I just know enough about football, about matchups and about history, to know that the Niners would represent our biggest challenge. And I'd have to say I was right. The Niner game was a slug-fest. Granted, our defense played lights out, limiting their running game to nothing from the RB's...and only a few scrambling open-field gains from Kaeperdick (yes, I intended to spell his name that way). Their passing game was non-existent in the first half. And once we got our offense going in the second half...it was our game to lose...which almost happened, until Richard Sherman did what he's been doing since we drafted him in the 5th round...breaking up the most important pass of the game and tipping it to eventual Super Bowl XLVIII MVP Malcolm Smith to ice the game and send my beloved Seahawks to the Super Bowl!!!

It has been a very, very long two weeks. Hours of mixing it up with mostly idiots on message boards on ESPN and other websites...which is just a waste of time. My wife asks me over and over why I leave comments on them. I don't have any idea. But when you believe so firmly in your team it's just so tempting to defend them against naysayers. And of course Richard Sherman's little outburst, which I think he has sufficiently made up for...just made for a very annoying two weeks of lead-up to the game.

I posted my prediction in many places.... SEATTLE 27 DENVER 21...citing my amazing record in Super Bowls and my ability to almost nail the scores. Well...I wasn't even CLOSE on the score...but if you took my advice and simply bet on them? And took the over? Which was 47...well, you were a double winner!

Yesterday was like Christmas. I hadn't slept more than an hour all week without waking up. And Saturday night? It was a joke. I took a melatonin to help...but was up all night...the anticipation killing me. I was out of bed at 8:30am...getting Carley dressed up in her Seahawks jersey. Putting on mine. Cheryl had hers on. I started in on my Super Bowl squares...which, holy smoke...set an all-time record for boards filled. Last year was the old record...where I filled up 14 boards. Yesterday, I filled 20 boards! 3 boards at $100 a square. 5 boards at $50 a square...and 12 boards at $25 per square. 2000 squares to account for! I had 18 sold out with 30 minutes to kickoff and people hammering me with emails asking for more. Fine. I opened up two more. They were sold out in like 15 minutes. Incredible. Overall I had a 'decent' Super Bowl in the squares department. Nothing like last year....or the year the Saints won. I was invested for $7750. My commission from running the boards was $6800 total...so I went into the game stuck $950. I won $4150 total....so ended up clearing about $3200. Now, and this is where my wife questions me...I could never buy a single square...and make great money.....$6800 on just running them. And that would make the most sense from a business point-of-view... I realize that. 

But how much of a dick would that make me? Guy just runs pools...doesn't play in them...and just makes money on us suckers! Wouldn't that be the sentiment? I think so. And I just love the excitement of rooting for your numbers to come in. It really adds to the excitement of the game...and in a game like yesterday...a blowout? It's sometimes the only thing to cling to, that and the over/under for the gamblers. It takes a lot of hours to do...but it's worth it I think. And the 'thank yous' I get from people really lets me know how much they appreciate the added entertainment value to their Super Bowl experience. The next week will consist of processing payments...and then next week...I will be sending off about $75,000 in winnings! One thing about the end of football season...my bank account always goes back to a normal balance! If anyone at my bank is watching my balance they must just be shaking their head wondering what the hell is going on in my life!

I don't even need to discuss the game do I? I mean...talk about the 12th man making their presence felt. On the first play of the game...and TWELVE seconds in...an errant snap led to a 2-0 Seattle lead on a safety. Then, to start off the second half...already leading 22-0 in the biggest shutout score in Super Bowl history at the half...Percy Harvin did what we spent millions on him to do....he returned a bit of a pooch kick (designed to keep him FROM doing what he was about to do!) all the way for a touchdown...and a seemingly insurmountable 29-0 lead. In...yes...TWELVE seconds. Eerie, isn't it!???

I know the networks (especially!) and the casual fan always roots for a close, exciting Super Bowl...and admittedly I am usually one of those. But when it's your team playing for the Lombardi Trophy? That feeling goes out the window. In fact...you PRAY for a blowout. Screw a close game, screw being stressed out down to the last second. I'd had enough of that this postseason! Give me a game where I can be hoarse by the end of the 1st quarter...then just sit and grin like a Cheshire cat for the rest of the game. That's what yesterday was....a long 60-minute coronation of my lifelong dedication as a fan to that of SUPER BOWL CHAMPION fan of the SEATTLE SEAHAWKS! Proud doesn't even begin to describe my feeling. 

I think about the players we have. How young they are. How most of them aren't even eligible to renegotiate until after NEXT season. An owner with the deepest pockets and a heavy desire to not just win...but to win big. Some teams like to just compete, and make money. Paul Allen is a winner...one of the founders of Microsoft and owner also of the Portland Trailblazers, and resident of Seattle. 

There might be some players, Michael Bennett comes to mind...who decide to parlay his success with Seattle into a huge free agent deal somewhere...and that's cool, you gotta respect a man's decision to make the money while he can...an NFL player's window to make good money is small. But with Pete Carroll being deemed the coach players most want to play for (that was a vote, I'm not just making this up) and Seattle offering a legit chance to win a Super Bowl...filling any holes left open will be easy...and you know there are solid players who will be willing to take a smaller contract for the chance to win a ring. 

We are still one of the youngest teams in the league...and are led by a quarterback who is...well, what can you say? Years beyond his age. Mature, intelligent, classy...a hard worker. Humble. I personally fell in love with this kid last season. I don't care that he doesn't pass for 300 yards a game and throw 3 or 4 TD's a game. He doesn't need to. Maybe if he needed to, he would. He's a bit like AJ McCarron was for Alabama. Classy, good kid, team player. Winner. Only, lucky for me...Russell Wilson isn't going to graduate in 3 years. 

This Super Bowl has given me the greatest joy as a sports fan. It's made all those Super Bowls I've watched since I was 7 years old mean so much more. It's true, I wanted so badly to travel to NY for the game. But as a responsible father...I can't make decisions like spending $5,000 to see a football game, when I have a daughter who needs to be taken care of for at least the next 20 years. I have a wife who clamors for a house we aren't paying rent on. So do I! So to watch from my couch, with the two loves of my life...who understand my passion for the Seahawks....it was just fine. I couldn't have gone to bed last night any happier. Yes...that depression that always sets in when the last football game of the year has been played...has set in a little bit. But I just think about how excited I am going to be this coming fall...a new chapter for Alabama football, also for my Washington Huskies, with a great new coach (Chris Petersen from Boise State)...and my Seahawks...who will come back stronger than ever...and trying to do it all over again.

Since Carley Grace came into our lives....we watched, in person...from the Superdome...with Carley in Mama Squirrel's tummy...as Bama crushed LSU to win the National Title. Then a year later...with Carley crawling around, we watched them destroy Notre Dame to do it again. And this year...with Carley running around the house yelling BOOM! as she heard Daddy yelling every time the Seahawks made a huge defensive play...we won a SUPER BOWL!!!! Wonder what act she will have in the 4th year!???

Squirrel has just left the house...for Baton Rouge, to go spend the evening with a bunch of her friends...as part of a surprise birthday party for our good friend Claudia 'The Claw' Crawford...a fellow Aquarian. (I'll turn 47 on Feb, 16th). So it's just Carley and I tonight. Carley attended her first day of Daycare today...it was pretty traumatic...mostly on me and Squirrel, as we stood in the hallway fighting back tears as Carley ran around the room crying and looking for us. We only made her stay a few hours before picking her up. Baby steps!

I know I owe you guys a blog about my Main Event...and really, my last week there...in Choctaw, and I promise...it's coming. Soon. Like maybe in the next day or two. But this was fresh in my mind...and I felt like sharing. If you are a Broncos fan, or lost money betting ON the Broncos...I'm sorry if you hated this post. I was prepared for losing the Super Bowl. I have always admired Peyton Manning, and would have handled losing to him just fine...as I'm sure the Seahawks would have. He is a great QB...and its amazing the things he does on the field. But yesterday....my Seahawks proved what a great defense can do to a great offense. I think I will go now, and watch the Super Bowl back on the DVR!!!!

MONKEY

Choctaw: Main Event from Hell-But First....

I kind of meant to do this blog a little sooner. But in the last day at Choctaw I picked up 'The Crud' from whichever number of players brought their bag of bacteria to the poker tourney...and when I got home, spent two or three days in bed recovering. In addition to that, I had three or four solid days of 'accounting work' to do. My new 'pet project' this football season was a takeoff on something I started about 12 years ago. In addition to all the number of sports pools I run...hence my nickname of 20+ years, The Pool Monkey...I started doing Super Bowl Squares. That expanded to BCS Title game squares...then crossed over into the NCAA hoops title game...where we have a winner every five minutes. 

I've noticed just HOW popular squares boards are. So this season I tried something new...a board for every 'big game' of the season. After this past weekend's nine boards for the AFC and NFC Championship games....I have done a total of 71 boards since September. 

How do I make money on these? Well, in essence, I don't. I charge a commission for doing the the leg work, but I invest all of that into the boards, actually more. I go into each $25 board down $50 and each $50 board down $100....so if I never win a square...it's a pretty frustrating (and zero EV for those of you who like to put 'poker terms' into everything you talk about) project. However, when you have 10% of every board covered, you're going to win a fair amount...and I've had an exceptionally good 'board season.' Good thing, too...because I have sucked on all my pools...pools where I took a LOT of entries on each. $25 Survivor Pool, $100 Survivor Pool, $50 Mid Season Survivor Pool, $50 NCAA Survivor Pool....of which ALL had rebuys....I didn't cash in ANY of them. And in my $100 Confidence Pool? I was in first place (paying top four) going into the final week...and tanked, hard...and finished 5th. Yeah...one of my worst pool seasons ever. Bricked the Bowl Pool, bricked the NFL Playoff Pool. Rough. But the squares saved me. And the Super Bowl Squares....well, lets just say there will be a LOT of chances to win some more. Last year I filled up 14 total boards. Probably blow that away!

I'm not EVEN going to take this opportunity to gloat...but YEAH....finally!!! My Seahawks are BACK in the SUPER BOWL...and hopefully this year, they don't get absolutely JOBBED like they did in 2006 when Bill Leavy thought it would be nice to give Jerome Bettis a going-away gift...specifically a Super Bowl ring. Leavy later apologized to the Seattle organization for his 'several' officiating gaffes during that game; something that everyone with two eyes and without a heavy Pittsburgh Steeler bias already knew.

The Play...where Ben Rapelisberger was alleged to have crossed the goal line for a critical TD on fourth down...only replay made it obvious that the ball never came close to crossing the plane.

That's our boy Bill Leavy immediately signaling TOUCHDOWN!!! Oh...but wait...a red flag has emerged from the Seattle sideline...as it should have!

Yeah...go check it out Bill...and see what  everyone has already seen...then give Seattle the damn ball...1st and 10 from the 1.

Wait! What? You still called it a touchdown? WTF? And all your other 'never before seen in a Super Bowl'  calls that swayed  the outcome? And yes...we got to see the Stealers make off with our Lombardi Trophy! Who me? Bitter? Pffft....whatever gave you THAT idea!????

I did not expect the Seahawks to crush SF. In fact, I was more nervous about that game than I am about the upcoming Super Bowl against Denver. I sent my mother my weekly predicted score for the game (which I've been doing all season, she's won a ridiculous number of times based on my several near-perfect predicted finals) as 21-17...and told her I couldn't promise that Seattle would win...but that I thought that would be close to the score in a hard fought battle. And at 23-17...what can I say? The previous week against New Orleans, my prediction for her was 24-17...and it was 23-15. What can I say? I have a gift! And I suppose those of you who have been reading my blog for years now, know that my Super Bowl scores are almost always dead on, and are clamoring for my prediction on this year's game pitting the #1 offense vs. the #1 defense, huh? Here you go...and yeah, I've been thinking about this ALL WEEK:

                                      SEATTLE  27  DENVER  21

So, while laying in bed thinking about my horrible Main Event...and the news of the Borgata chip scandal, and the asshole cop in Texas who decided to give me a speeding ticket, along with a rash of shit, I was doing all the accounting work, and issuing about $42,000 worth of payouts, for all the squares and pools. 

So, first up, the Borgata chip scandal. One of my regrets that I didn't blog sooner was that I had a pretty good 'scoop' to share that by now is public knowledge. One of my good friends who lives in the NYC area...and who, like me, has settled down, had a child and kind of semi-retired from the full time poker tourney grind...had come off the shelf to go play that first big event at Borgata. He made it to the final 27. The final 27 who were left standing when the tourney was abruptly cancelled/postponed until the issue could be resolved. 

He called to talk about it...but made me promise not to share his name...because he'd had some pretty personal conversations with Tab Duchateau, the Borgata's Tournament director, and a guy we both really like a lot. Tab had told him some things that the State Gaming Commission didn't want out there for public consumption...(things that have now been reported by the media) like them finding all the counterfeit chips in the plumbing over at Harrah's casino, which is located about 100 yards from Borgata. 

Two days ago it was revealed who the scumbag, I mean...scumbag....was in the scandal that befell the Borgata event. Christian Lusardi, a 42-year old cheater from Fayetteville, North Carolina who had previously smelled the inside of a jail cell when his home game was busted by cops. He had checked out of his Harrah's hotel room and was holed up like Saddam Hussein in some shit hole in Atlantic City when they found his ass. He has been tossed in the can on a $300,000 bond. Guess he will need to go win a tourney to come up with that. Oh wait....never mind. 

So...what does this mean for the 27 players (including my friend) who were still standing? No official ruling has been made, last I heard. But doesn't it seem like the fair thing to do would be to give them all an equal 27 shares? I mean...winners who went out before them were already paid out. So they can't NOT pay them something. That would be criminal, to be certain. I'm sure they will work it out and do something that is fair.

THE COP:  I shared with you my little adventure on the WAY to Oklahoma...that wasn't as irritating as it was shocking. Frankly, as a father of a little girl, it made me feel a sense of comfort that the police were/are so on the ball as it pertains to Amber Alerts. Just happened to suck that my vehicle matched, to a 'T' the description of the car containing a kidnapped child last seen traveling west on I-10 in the Mobile area. I took a lot of good-natured ribbing from some players up at Choctaw last week, and all I  could do was laugh. No need to let something like that upset a person.

So Barth and I decided to hit the road almost as soon as the Seattle score went final and he returned from Sports City Bar where he watched the game with some poker friends while me and my 'remedy onion' laid in bed trying to get better and watching nervously as my favorite team since childhood fought for a berth in the Super Bowl. He was tired, so I agreed to take the first shift...driving his 'loaner' Mercedes that the dealership gave him while his SUV was in the shop getting serviced. If you've been to Choctaw, you know that the Texas border isn't too far down the highway...maybe 15 or 20 miles by my recollection.

In the past 6 years...I've had a grand total of four speeding tickets. All have occurred on poker trips. One, I got by a little shit head of a cop in New Mexico...who's trick was to sit in a ditch hiding...in this patch of the highway that went from 75 down to 60 to 'honor' the 'town' that laid in a 2-mile stretch of that highway...your standard N.M. town in the middle of the desert that features a gas station, a diner,  and a run down dirty magazine shop...that if you blink you completely miss. And when you are driving on the surface of the moon (or somewhere very similar) and have your cruise control set to 80...or 5 mph above the speed limit (it is widely known that cops won't stop you until you are at least 9 mph over the posted speed limit) its very difficult to suddenly shake yourself out of that speed coma when you come up upon one of these hiccups on the highway in order to slow all the way down to 60 for a fleeting minute or two before returning to normal driving conditions.

Well, this was how prickface in New Mexico nabbed me. And about the time he asked my for my Social Security number (???) was about the time I realized this guy and his department were nothing but a collections department. I'm up on the law enough to know that asking for SS# is the furthest thing from standard procedure when issuing a speeding ticket. So I was 89% certain that if I called this guy's bluff, refused to give him my SS# and never paid this ticket there would be no repercussions. So I did just that, refused to give him my SS#, and when I saw the defeated look on his face, it told me all I needed to know. 'Gotcha Sucka!' So I didn't pay the $325 they were attempting to extort from me. That was 5 or 6 years ago. I think I'm clear.

The other three tickets? Anyone want to guess which states they came from? I'll end the suspense. STATE. Not states. Fucking Texas. The State that brags about having a balanced budget. Gee I wonder why that is!?? Due in part, I'm guessing, to the ridiculous amount of over-policing they do on their highways. And it's always the same ticket in Texas. They get you moving from a normal speed zone into a suddenly marked-down speed zone (identical to the New Mexico song and dance)..and of course, they are right THERE to nail you. Radar is of little use. 

So I'm driving along...with my cruise set on 76...thinking the speed limit is 70....at just after midnight. On a Sunday. I literally SEE the cop on the side of the road...look down...see 76...and don't even react. I'm not one of these idiots who are doing the speed limit...see a cop, and freak out...slamming on their brakes (and endangering anyone behind them...OR...worse, getting THOSE people cited for 'following too closely' by that same asshole cop who is sitting there waiting to generate some revenue for his department) and slowing down to 20mph BELOW the speed limit. But then I see his blue lights...and since there were no cars around me, knew he was coming after me. Great. This sucks.

He informs me he is pulling me over for speeding. I ask him how much the ticket is for doing 76 in a 70? He tells me the speed limit was 60. Huh? Since when? I thought it was 70? Well, as Barth was quick to point out after we pulled away...the interstate signs (Interstate 75)...which they have posted multiple times...looked just like the speed limit signs usually look. Which led to Barth thinking the speed limit was 75.  Well, asshole cop tries to 'trap me' in a lie. 

"You thought the speed limit was 70? Why? The speed limit on most of this highway is 75! It's not 70 anywhere! So I don't know what sign you thought you saw!" (see, I was just using my experience of driving on ALL OTHER FUCKING interstates in AMERICA besides Texas, New Mexico and a few other states who have theirs set a bit higher since there is absolutely FUCKING NOTHING in their state that any fast-moving vehicle could ever possibly hit, besides the occasional possum or armadillo)

Oh...okay cop. You got me. I lied about going too slow. (a) how much of an asshole are you? (b) how fucking stupid are you?

Well, his intelligence was demonstrated on his next bit of questioning when he asked for my license and insurance card. I happen to know that my Geico card was fully updated because I just placed new cards in mine and Squirrel's wallet about a month ago. Well, dipshit hands me back my card and tells me "this insurance card is expired" and points to the 'effective date' of 9/10/13. I asked him why he thinks my insurance is expired. And he points to this date. I then point out to him that it says EFFECTIVE DATE. Effective and EXPIRED are like opposites.

"Well, I pull cars over all day long (yeah, none of us are disputing that shitbag) and I know what a current insurance card looks like, and that card is expired."

"My insurance is NOT expired, or cancelled. Is it possible that you might not be accustomed to seeing insurance cards from Mississippi? My policy has been active with them for years...and every time it renews, they send me a new card...with an effective date. There is no expiration date...it auto-renews. I don't know what else to tell you."

"I'm gonna need you to step out of the car...and stand back here until I get done issuing you the citation for speeding."  So...at midnight...with the temperature around 27 degrees, me in flip flops and a t-shirt...he makes me stand between our car and his car...with his ridiculously bright lights shining in my face. At one point, I tried to move to the back of the car to lean on the trunk...when he blew those screeching sounds from his car...and hollers at me to NOT MOVE! I guess he thought there was a chance I was going to get the RPG out of Barth's trunk.

Now...I know that cops are necessary to keep us safe. And I have had a number of friends (one, a good one, who I am certain will read this blog) and family in the past that are cops. But I'll be dead honest...when I see these stories on the news about cops getting gunned down during 'routine' traffic stops? I think about pricks like this guy...and wonder why it doesn't happen more often. Not that I'm advocating blowing cops away because they are dick heads, because I'm not. I'm just saying, that with the number of mentally unbalanced people running around out there...and the ones who happen to own handguns, either legally or otherwise being in the mix...that it's no wonder shit like that happens. Push the right buttons, and shit is going to go down.

So after about 17-20 minutes of freezing my balls off....in which I'm sure this asshole was loving every second of ....he emerges from his car to present me with my most recent gift from the State of Fucking Texas. I ask him "what was the reason for making me stand outside of my car, in the cold, while I'm sick...waiting on you to write me a ticket?"

"Because I felt like it, that's why. And I didn't know you were sick."

"Of course you didn't, I always have snot running down my face and have the voice of an 85 year old man laying on his death bed, and besides, had you known...would it have mattered?"

"No. It wouldn't have. And I don't think it's that cold out, either."

"Well, you happen to be wearing about 4 layers of clothing...so I'm sure you aren't very cold. You also weren't the one standing out here for 20 minutes. I'm just curious, is this standard operating procedure for your department? Making people exit their car for no apparent reason whatsoever and forcing them to stand in front of your car while you write their ticket? Because you can expect to have a formal complaint filed against you."

"You have a good night sir." Hands me my ticket...then tears out of there...and parks about 500 yards down the highway, with his lights off...and tried to catch me again! What a motherfucker!

This blog is getting way too long, I think. And I haven't even begun to discuss my last few days at Choctaw, in a poker sense. 

I would like to say this. Total sidebar, too. Nolan Dalla has made me feel inferior about blogging. His blogs are SO FUCKING GOOD...and he writes SO OFTEN...that I just think he has made me feel like a blogging also-ran. It's amazing...because for years he complimented me on my blog...telling me he would read them and laugh hysterically. Now I know why. 

I read his stuff daily...and him and I have so many of the same thoughts and views on things, and people. I can tell that while he was still working for Harrahs/WSOP that he had to temper his statements to conform with what his 'handlers' expected of him...and now that he has left them..its like the shackles, chains and all constraints have been freed from him. And to read his blog is like reading the words of a 'years-repressed' soul yearning to be heard. The shit is awesome. 

Squirrel and I started watching 'Sons of Anarchy' finally...after years of people ordering me to watch it. The show is great. However...we are now into Season 5...and if there is one thing that is turning me off about the show...its that they are CONSTANTLY mired in unbelievable shit. I mean...I guess if I watched once-a-week like most people, instead of cramming all 6 seasons in a month...it might not seem like that to such an extreme. But still...there is no down time for the MC. And the amount of killing, most of it senseless, just kind of turns my stomach. And some of the murders? I mean...in what world do they NOT get prosecuted? It's borderline ridiculous in a lot of cases.

And in Season 4...where Clay just turns into a murdering scumbag with no sense of loyalty at all...just killing to cover his bad deeds years ago...it's started to really turn me off. Now with the end of Season 4, and the 'plot twist' involving the Irish and Mexican Cartels doubling as CIA agents...well, I guess now I see how all these characters are going to remain intact and in the picture for at least another season or two. Squirrel and I were really wishing Clay would either die or be killed in that last episode...but fuck...now they need his dumb ass alive. Great. Wonder who the next innocent victim will be to die at his hands?

Carley is all set to start official pre-school tomorrow...after about a year of going to spend the day with her sitter, Miss Pam...for 2 days a week. The sitter was devastated. But she will still get to see Carley if we need a sitter on weekends, or nights, or when I go out of town for poker trips, so its not that tragic. Carley caught my 'crud' when I got home...and is fighting it off...so I guess if she's still sick tomorrow we will hold off on taking her. I'll be honest...I'm both happy we are taking her...but kind of sad too. She is growing up SO fast it's freaking me out. She makes being at home such a great thing. The time we spend together makes me so happy. But taking her to day care needs to happen. She needs to experience that social interaction with other kids her age. I think she will do great. And I'm guessing they probably pick things up, and learn faster when they are around other kids. I just want her, when its time to go to actual school, to be well-prepared for it. Having her in a good, organized, setting like that will make it a lot easier for me to go off and play poker tourneys if I choose to.

Next up on my poker calendar, I think...is that event down in Palm Beach. I guess. I went there last year and didn't run that well. As a matter of fact, I haven't really run too well anywhere in the past year...except Vegas last summer. That and a few min-cashes in Main Events to save trips...and that's been about it. I really am long overdue to make a 'nice' score somewhere. I played the Choctaw event on my own dime, 100%. Why? Kind of two reasons I think. (a) I don't feel qualified to sell a package right now until I start winning consistently again, and (b) I've had a good fall and winter and frankly, can afford to fund myself, and the upside of playing for 100% just makes it too attractive of an option. Oh sure...after I've left, and I'm $4500 lighter in the wallet, I question that decision, but it wasn't a loss I couldn't afford, and I didn't leave a trail of investors regretting their decision to buy in to the package.

One thing about poker that really, really annoys the fuck out of me, is how every two or three years, a rash of new poker 'terms' appear on the poker scene. And it would be fine...if only a handful of players used these terms. And used them sparingly. And I'm guessing, the ones who come up with them...probably DID use them sparingly, in certain appropriate 'spots.' But then when all the poker dorks caught (or catches) wind of these terms...they bastardized the shit out of them. You know what I'm taking about. Some past gems that have finally seemed to almost perish (for the most part) are 'spewey'...'nitty'....'felted'....and oh...there are numerous others. Well, I've learned a couple of new ones while I was in Choctaw...mostly by checking out (accidentally) players' Twitter feeds. They are.... 'rip' or 'ripped' which is another way of discussing how that player blasted either all of his chips into the center of the playing arena...either in an all-in play or a very large river bet. The other word is 'showered' or 'showering.' Huh? You might think this means 'showering an opponent with his/her chips in a show of appreciation or hostility.' Negatory. It is, instead, a way of expressing to one's followers that he/she has left the building, having busted. As in...'hitting the showers.' These two words alone had me ripping (ahhhh see what I did there?) my hair out after about two days in Choctaw. I caught Barth using these damn words and had to call him out on it. Whether this results in him curtailing his use of these annoying new 'poker terms' will remain to be seen.

I think Palm Beach happens at a good time. Carley will be in daycare....I will be wrapping up the accounting work for the Super Bowl Squares...and with a relatively long lull before anything major comes up in pools....the March Madness Pool (with over 500 entries last year!) being my next big one to deal with....I think it might be a good event to go to with a couple of friends and play. Hopefully Barth decides to go...as his car is very quiet (and nice!) and he makes for a great poker roommate. And we are just good friends that always have interesting conversations...which, if you're around a lot of poker players on a regular basis, you know that this is hard to find!

Why can't I snap my fingers and be Kate Upton for just a week? Or any number of hot super models or actresses? They have it so easy. One simple Twitter post...and I'd be on my way to Super Bowl Sunday, likely on someone's private jet. My one, and only,  Twitter post would read something like this:  "Gosh, I sure wish I was going to the Super Bowl this Sunday...I even have my snow bunny outfit all picked out!  :(  Wonder how long it would take? An hour? Maaaaayyybe two? But I'm not...I'm just me...and my dreams of going to the Super Bowl are probably dead in the water. Of course, if there are any tycoons out there who want to make this little boy's dream come true...I make for great company at a ball game...but there won't be any shenanigans!!!!

Squirrel and I start our Advocare 24-day Challenge tomorrow. So tonight, feeling like an inmate on Death Row who's appointment with Old Sparky comes tomorrow, I decided to make my last meal a douzy...taking us out to Half Shell here in Biloxi, where my plan was to gorge myself on all the things I crave the most. We've eaten at this place, I think, four times. It's huge...upstairs and downstairs...and about 20 tables on each floor. But every....literally EVERY time we've gone, we have been seated at a table right near the kitchen.

Here is a memo to any restaurant owner or manager of a place where the entrees are over $20 per, and who feature a wine list with bottles over $100: Tell your waiters...who instead of helping out their fellow waiters with stuff like clearing each others tables, refilling their water, running food to their table (while its still hot, or at least warm)....and other duties that would make for a better dining experience, that none of us have one inkling of a desire to hear them discuss their personal lives, or listen to them bicker over their schedules, or watch them bury their face in their phones, texting whoever they're texting while my sweet ice tea glass sits empty for the fourth time. I finally started reaching over to the bus station, grabbing the ice tea pitcher, and refilling my own damn glass. Can you tell me, how does a waitress get all the way out to your table with your entrees before realizing that she rung in the wrong thing? I mean...did she not load that food onto the tray in the kitchen and suddenly realize that what she put on there looks nothing like what I ordered?

It makes me miss the days when I was a restaurant manager. I had a great background from working in some of the nicest places in Seattle, New York and Atlanta...and so when I go out to eat, especially in a place like Biloxi, Mississippi, it really makes it hard...because I know I have to almost always lower my expectations. Some of these places have men and women in the kitchen who are putting out a fantastic product...a product that gets completely overlooked because the servers cause people to never want to return. And waiters often wonder why cooks are such assholes to them? That's why! So..management at Half Shell Biloxi? If you'd like help turning that place around? Look me up! Because it wasn't just  once...its been EVERY TIME we've eaten there. 

So tomorrow...unless the governor calls...my date with Old Sparky begins. I will let y'all know how my 'Challenge' goes. Hell who knows...if it goes incredibly, I might have to start a club of 'Challengers' and launch a new career as an Advocare rep! Sure.

I will post about my actual poker experience at Choctaw those last few days...but I will wrap this one up for the time being.

Monkey

Back On The Grid....

Another long hiatus from my blog is about to come to an end. I decided, after not being able to secure reasonably priced tickets for the NFC Championship in my home town this weekend, to instead travel to Oklahoma with my friend Barth Melius to play the WSOP Circuit Main Event at Choctaw Casino in Durant. 

We left late Tuesday night...arrived early Wednesday morning, and played poker ALL DAY! I had an unsuccessful day one here....losing a $65 sattelite into Wednesday's $580 noon tourney...208 started, 17 got paid, went out 47th. Barth went out 4 from the seat. Then played the $580. Very frustrating day. Started good. Then got kind of coolered twice to fall to 1800...before building it back to 12k...only to go card dead and miss every flop...I literally got down to ONE BIG BLIND at 1k/2k and 110 out of 380 left...got it in with K9....lost to Justin 'Choctaw' Kruger who held a much better AQ. That 6 hours was painful.

Then played the $250 at 5pm. Twice. On the first bullet...'that' punk showed up...you know the guy. Hat turned askew...with the straight bill...Beats headphones. Glasses turned around on the back of his head. Swagger. He decides he's gonna try to run over the table. Not gonna happen slappy. He raises my BB from cutoff...I have 9-10s and reraise him. He gets this stupid look  on his face and wrecklessly dumps his stack all in. I snap call. He, as I suspected, didn't have much. A8 off suit. But of course....I missed everything. Standard. I re-bought.

It went a lot better. Started hot...took a dip....got hot again....lost a few hands. Very up and down...then in Level 12...I got into the classic heads up all in hand...for a huge double up...or a trip to the rail. Me...AK...him QQ. Winner...QQ. Boo! Day one over.

Joined a bunch of people at Sports City...where they were having Karaoke night. I needed to eat...which I did. The service in that place was dreadfully slow...despite having a ton of staff. Guess they aren't used to being busy. Saw a lot of good 'poker friends' I hadn't seen in awhile. Stayed for about two hours...listened to some good singers...and some horrible singers. It was pretty entertaining. But I needed sleep...and went and got about 9 hours.

I'm late right now for the noon $70 Mega with $50 rebuys. But those things are so crazy...and the people up here, what I witnessed yesterday...was absolutely insanity...and I can only assume the first four levels of this thing will be utter chaos.  I want no part of that bullshit...I'll just end up getting in for like $500 or more...which is a joke when you're trying to win a seat valued at $1675. So me and Barth...who just returned to the room from shopping at some outlet mall....will both go down and sign up right before the break.

There are quite a few 'fun' stories to tell about this place. For sure. And there was a couple of fun stories about my trip coming up here...including being part of an Amber Alert investigation...where I was pulled over, handcuffed, placed in a cops car...and questioned, before being released about 20 minutes later after they discovered that the 'White Toyota 4-Runner with a black brush guard and Alabama plates last seen traveling west from Mobile' was not, in fact...me!!!

Our room in the Choctaw casino tower is great! The crowds are great. The dealers are great. The remodeled this place since my last visit...the casino that is...not  the hotel...and it too,  looks great. They really do a nice job with this casino. The drinks aren't free...but that's cool, I'm about to start the 24-day Advocare challenge with Cheryl when I get home from this trip...in my mission to lose about 20-30 lbs. I'm drinking as much water as possible to 'purge' before I get back. I drank a total of 12 bottles yesterday!!!!

As you know...I am a HUGE Seahawks fan. Last year....I was here in Choctaw...when Seattle came from behind...and took the lead against Atlanta, only to lose by a field goal in the last minute...and tear my heart out. This year....we have made it one step further..and Sunday is going to be insane for me. It would also be Day Two of the Main Event...so I really hope I'm not watching the game from my hotel room!!! Michael Sanders...a pretty good poker buddy of mine who is here...is also from Seattle and a huge fan of all-things Seattle-related like me...he was in my face at the Karaoke bar last night and all geeked up about the game this weekend. I'm so excited about this game...but I'm also SO nervous. 

Carley is doing great! We decided to take her from her 2-days a week sitter ritual and enter her in an actual day care...where she will be going between 3-5 days a week, depending on whatever we have going on that week. It broke her sitter's heart...but we have to do what is best for Carley...and she needs to be around other kids and developing her social qualities. I will miss her at home with me...but I can't hold her back. She is growing up so fast it's insane. I love that little girl so much its impossible to imagine. And when I'm away from her...it kills me. It sure has put things into perspective. Nothing that happens in poker...either good or bad....will ever have the same impact on me as it ever did before because of the effect she has had on my life.

All I wanted to do was come up here for a few days....and take a shot at some good money...to help my family. And I admit I do miss...a little bit, the competition of poker tourneys. I was ready, after 5-months to jump back in and get my feet wet. I'll have more later, promise...but I better get ready and get my butt down there. 

Hope you're all having a Happy New Year!!

MONKEY

Happy Holidays Poker Friends

Well, Christmas has come and gone...and now we have the New Year to look forward to. Since I last posted, quite a bit has happened in my little corner of the universe. Not much of it related to poker, however.

Squirrel and I, along with my sister who was visiting from Milwaukee for Thanksgiving, traveled to Auburn to take in the Iron Bowl. In what has now become one of the most talked about Iron Bowl's in history...it left us feeling pretty deflated, and just shocked. It was, without a doubt, the quietest 281 mile road trip I've ever experienced coming home. I always have a bad feeling in my gut going into games against Auburn and LSU...but for some reason, I really wasn't fearing them this year. I really thought Bama would go into Auburn, and get the job done in convincing fashion. If anything, I had a bigger fear of what Missouri might have to offer.

We all know what happened. No need to rehash things. The next two weeks were spent dealing with all the media BS regarding whether or not Nick Saban would leave for Texas...who as of this moment, STILL doesn't have a new coach. Well, luckily, Nick is sticking around Tuscaloosa. My friend Barth, who's Dad works for the Sugar Bowl committee, was able to fulfill our order for 7 tickets for the Sugar Bowl...in great seats, all at face value...so a nice contingency of us will be heading to New Orleans next week for the game vs. Oklahoma, to see off AJ McCarron and several other guys headed to the NFL...and hopefully kick some ass and finish 13-1 and the #2 team in the nation. Bitter as it may be.

A couple weeks ago, I got a last minute call from Barth, wanting to know if I wanted to come to Sunday Night Football between the Saints and the Panthers. Hell yes! So I hot-footed it over there, and was surprised by the appearance of David Nicholson and Ashly Butler,  who are now living in Barth's sprawling estate in Metairie! It was a great game...and of course, we had great seats. The Saints won in convincing fashion...to the team they turned around and lost to this past week...and now they  need to win this  Sunday and get some help from the lowly Falcons to win the division, or they will be getting in as Wild Cards...not what they had in mind a month ago when there were sporting a 8-1 record.

We ended up leaving the game early to go play cash game at Harrah's. Yes,  that place that I am supposedly not allow to play. Hell, I don't know...maybe there is only a ban on me when it comes to WSOP events in venues owned in Caesar's-owned properties. Since I walked in and everyone was very friendly to me, including the poker room manager, who I chatted with for about ten minutes,  and who invited me to come over and play the Bayou Winter Classic last week.

Well, what was going to be a session of maybe 2 or 3 hours turned into a marathon session of 24 instead. Why? I have no idea. It just did. Part of me really missed playing poker. And I was having my way with the table. It was almost too easy. For about 6-7 hours my stack was sitting between $1900-$2200...I was avoiding those horrendous 'runs from hell' much to my surprise. I had a pretty good feeling that I could get to $3000 and then call it a day. But I was also getting to the point where Squirrel was getting increasingly annoyed that  I wasn't home yet. Understandable. Well...things were going great, until Troy Gibson showed up. Troy is a great guy...from Atlanta, and I've known him quite a long time. He's a big businessman up there...has a pretty good amount of scratch. And so when he sat down, hammered, at our 1-2 table that I'd been destroying...I knew the shit was about to hit the fan.

I was right. He announced that he was all in, in the dark...before he even got in his seat...and we learned from the chiprunner...that he was in for $849. Yeah. That was the number...as he was fumbling ones and fives from his pockets. So that is how things started. Great. The once predictable fabric that I had managed to weave into this table had been suddenly upended. Total chaos ensued. And as I sat eyeballing my stack of $2100...it dawned on me...this is what always happens in these situations. 'That Guy' whether he be a complete dickhead, or a friend of mine who is shit-faced and just 'wants to have some fun' shows up...and everything goes to hell in a hand basket. 

What to do. On one hand,  Troy is always entertaining...and I always like seeing him. So I kind of wanted to watch the show. On the other hand...I didn't want me and my stack to get caught up in the crossfire. And I didn't want to be a pussy....you know, folding hands 10-10 and/or better...but you and I both know, it takes very little to beat ANY hand..even aces...which, by  the way, he did...as well as KK...with garbage hands he hadn't even looked at. Oh, don't get me wrong....he wasn't winning them all. Him and his $849 quickly became $2500...before falling down to $340...he'd win some, lose some...then eventually have to reload. 

I finally got sick of folding good hands for $150 preflop...and moved to the only other table playing 1/2 at that hour. It was a pretty shitty table. Not much happened there for two hours, and finally I returned to the other one. I would, in fact, end up having my 'hour from hell' where I was losing hands in the most incredible fashion....good hands...up against, you know the drill, shitball hands...and was doing my damnedest to bite my tongue. But when I got down to $700 I was kind of coming apart at the seams. I put together a late rally about the time that Squirrel was DEMANDING I get my ass home and 'rejoin my family!' I go it back up to $1300...then cashed out. Went and had lunch...then drove home.

I was back in New Orleans last week...giving Barth a check for my Sugar Bowl tickets...and going to see a friend of his, who is a diamond broker. I figured it had been 3 or 4 years since Cheryl lost her engagement ring I bought her into the Gulf of Mexico...and I was tired of looking at my wife without a ring on her finger...so Carley and I took the drive over there...and we bought 'Mommy' a new ring for Christmas. It looked almost identical to the one she lost, only the quality was about 3 times better...since this one didn't come from Zales, who I've learned, sells a rather inferior product for what they charge. Never, ever, will I shop at Zales again!

Cheryl took charge of the whole Santa operation for Carley....after we drove 7 hours from Florence (North Alabama) on Christmas Eve, we arrived home at 3am...completely beat. But I took Carley to bed, and Cheryl did all the work, and when Carley woke up and walked into the living room, she squealed and came running into our bedroom all excited. It was pretty special. I got out the video camera and started recording. I tell you...before Carley came along, the holidays were all pretty much dead to me. I could really have cared less about them. But now, with Carley,  they are magical. I decorated our front of the house for Halloween, and for Christmas put up the best light display in the neighborhood, which required a lot of crawling around on our steep roof. Not easy stuff. But seeing Carley's face, when those lights went on...made it all worth it. 

So it's been like 3 months now since I played a live poker tourney. Part of me is itching to get out there and compete. But another part of me has really, really enjoyed being home, and just taking care of Carley, and being a good dad and husband. We have been able to do so much together...and my other businesses have been going really great this fall...so I haven't had any pressure to go out and play. Which is fantastic. I have sort of a desire to go and play Choctaw in January, and maybe the LA Poker Classic in Commerce and/or possible the Venetian Deepstacks out in Vegas in February. But I don't know...like yesterday, I simply went to run some errands, and Carley just freaked out that I was leaving. And I think, what will she do when I leave for 10 days to play poker?

The thing about having something at home that you love so much...is if you leave, you have GOT to be winning, otherwise, you are just ten times more miserable and depressed than you would be under the normal circumstances when you are playing and running bad. I mean, I won't miss her any less if I'm winning, but at least I can justify it by knowing that what I'm doing is going to benefit us in the mission to get us a house...which continues to be...and probably will until it happens, my primary goal from here on out. We have got to get out of this stupid rental situation. Meanwhile...my rental house in Pensacola is again vacant, as the Marine that was living there got 'his orders' and had to vacate in November. So once again....no rent coming in from there. Sucks. Hopefully, my leasing manager over there gets someone in there by the new year.

I've been keeping my eye on what's been going on in poker. I see who is winning. Some of the same people. I scan all the Facebook posts, and see all the close calls, and the bad beats...and the same old stuff that you always hear about when and where poker is concerned. I miss very little of that. I no longer consider myself a 'professional poker circuit grinder.' I would say what I am now...is a stay-at-home-dad...who occasionally will venture out to play some poker...and hope to get lucky! Some people think you need to be constantly playing to be successful. I even used to think that was the case. I have changed my way of thinking on that. Poker is NOT that complicated a game. Once you know all of the major fundamentals...it really becomes a lot more about patience, and plodding, and knowing your opponent...and there is no amount of time that I can take off that is going to make any of those skills diminish. In fact, if anything, the time away might actually make me a better player, in anything. I guess we'll find out when I decide what, if any, tournament, I decide to travel to and play.

I hope you all had a great Christmas...and that the Holiday season in general has been good to you and your families. Everyone stay safe this New Year's Eve...don't drink and drive! And good luck to you, whatever it is you do...in 2014!!!

MONKEY

Okay...A Blog.

Alright. I'm only doing this for two reasons: (a) because some of you keep badgering me to write a new blog. (b) I have a cause I would like to talk about. Mostly because of (b) because frankly, I feel almost out of place being on a site that talks about poker when I have played ZERO poker in over a month, almost two. Oh...I tried, one night...to go play poker. I did.

We had just finished watching Alabama beat LSU (again...yaawwwwwnn, just kidding, beating LSU never gets old!) and were at a club I didn't know existed in Ocean Springs, which if you aren't from Biloxi, I should tell you is just about 5 miles away. The club was a blast...with outdoor stages, and a big bonfire that people were gathered around. I hadn't drank in over a month...and I guess it showed. I was pretty well  lit by the time we left Oren's place...BIG O's, (also in Ocean Springs). At some point I decided I could pick up a flaming log from the pit and hold it in my hand like an idiot. My thumb is  still in recovery.

I had decided I was in the mood to play some live poker that night. So once most of the 'friend crew' had left...I made my way to a taxi...and headed for the Golden Nugget, previously called Isle of Capri. The switchover happened a few months ago...but none of the marvelous renovations have taken place yet. Supposedly, the poker room is or was supposed to be really kick ass once that was done. So....wanna guess when that is happening? Yeah. Now. I arrived, and learned that it was closed, due to...yep, renovations. Perfect. So I played blackjack for some damn reason. 

Oh I remember the reason. There were no cabs. Huh? Had to call for one. And there was a BJ table right inside the door...so to kill time I sat down and bought in for $100. 4 hours later...I cashed out with $650. Nice. Unfortunately, the wife was pretty pissed that I was out all night and hadn't called. Whooops. My bad. So I gave her half my winnings to try and ease my way out of the doghouse.

So yeah. No poker. Later in the week, I had a little free time, and decided I would try to get online and play on Lock. I log on. And in the lower right hand corner...I see...WHAT? You gotta be kidding me; a total of 274 players logged into the site. Worldwide! Huh!??? And predictably there was little to no action to play in anything.  Which got me thinking...."Hmm...maybe some of those guarantees are ripe for the raping!" So I looked at the tourneys. Nope. Lock has just lowered those to ridiculous number...like $75 Guarantee! Seriously? Well, I think it's official that Lock is seeing their already flickering flame about to be doused once and for all. 

I have a $500 withdrawal request in the pipeline, and another $500 still on the site...which I am assuming I can kiss goodbye. I just don't see it ending well. My check request was made 7 weeks ago. I sent them another email yesterday asking them for a status update of my check. The way I feel about that $1000 is about the same way I feel about the $1000 that this buddy (loose use of that word) owes me...for over 4 months now...the same guy who, when I was kicking ass at Venetian back in 2008 or 09 or whenever it was...who was my roommate that summer...had 10% of my action all summer, and never cashed once. Nope, I spent all summer forking him money...per our agreement. Yeah, it was slightly aggravating. But a deal is a deal. The roles could have easily been reversed, I've seen it a thousand times. Oh, but speaking of thousand...that's what he owes me...and for the past month won't even respond to me, my emails, text messages, phone calls. Lovely. Well, I guess the price of my friendship is only worth $1000 to him. 

Why haven't I played any circuit events? Easy. I  haven't felt like going anywhere. And there haven't been any events that I felt were 'GOTTA PLAY' events. Squirrel and I are thinking about ramping up our day care plan for Carley...from 2 days a week with our personal sitter...where she is often times the only kid...to a full daycare plan...where we have the option of taking her for 1 day a week, or the full 5. We visited several to see what we thought of them. They all have really positive things about them...and they are pretty affordable. The best thing, I'd say, is that it enables her to spend time with other kids...to grow from a social perspective. I mean, I  love being at home with her...we have become so close, and it's so amazing watching her grow, and learn...and sometimes I just don't want to be away from her. But I know that isn't probably the right thing to do. And walking into these places, and seeing all these adorable kids all laughing and interacting with each other...in an environment where they are taught things...well, it hit me, that was a no-brainer. She needs that. 

So I  think we are going to start her about the 2nd week of January. And coincidentally, that happens to be around the time that some poker events I might want to play start popping up on the calendar. I liked that place in Oklahoma enough to return there. See...I've been out of commission so long I already forgot the name! I think they have a big event there in January. (oh yeah, Choctaw) Then in February there are quite a few events, including the big event at Commerce Casino in LA. And funding for poker certainly isn't an issue...I just want to  pick and choose and give whoever decides to buy my package the most bang for their buck.

I see someone won the WSOP Main Event. Yippee. Didn't watch one minute of it. Could care less about any of it. I was surprised that JC Tran didn't win. He must have really run bad, because that guy was hands down the best player at the table and started with the most chips. Had to have run like shit.

I notice the Gold Strike in Tunica is closing their poker room. Wow. Now, I can only assume this also means they will no longer be hosting any poker events. It would be odd to host a big poker event and yet not HAVE a cash room. I can only wonder what the reasons are for this. Once upon a time, Gold Stike was a mecca for big poker events. Back in 2004, it was where I  made my first ever final table, during the WPT event there. It was exciting. I would have other runs there...like the one in 2008 when I final tabled 7 nightly tourneys in 10 days...winning 3 of them. It was one of the sickest runs of my career. Well, I heard they are doing major renovations at the Horseshoe...which would be more exciting to me if they weren't owned by Caesars. Yeah...that irritant with Caesars still exists. 

Read a funny article the other day. Not sure where. But in pretty clear language it was made painfully obvious that Caesar's Entertainment now is carrying more debt than any creditor will effectively loan to them because of. I'm not sure about all the fancy language, but basically, they are like a hobo walking in off the street wanting to buy a house. Poker is on the decline. We all know it. The signs are everywhere. And currently the brand WSOP is probably the one thing Caesar's owns that is worth anything. Which...to anyone with common sense, is why they will probably be selling it before too long. 

And yeah...I would maybe be more excited about that happening, if it didn't mean that all the Caesar's-owned hotels and casinos would be still be managed using the same infrastructure and the same people. So any bogus '86' that has been entered into the system against an individual, won't just disappear overnight. I have made no effort at all to try to have my 'situation' overturned. Despite having a very positive conversation with the person who was supposed to have been the reason it happened in the first place. (Yana, the female dealer at Horseshoe Hammond who I was supposed to have harassed) I mean...what path would I take? Who would I talk to? It has become more about one guy wanting to win his personal battle (for whatever stupid reason) with me than it is about what I did or didn't REALLY do. I mean...I'm pretty sure I could show up at the offices of Caesar's with this girl, and profess to anyone who would listen that nothing happened between us verbally that should have ever seen me get booted from not just the property but ALL Caesar's properties...and as long as THAT GUY has it in his head that he wants me out of all WSOP events? He will put a finger in each ear and start making that humming noise that little kids do when you tell them something they don't want to hear.

Combine that with me wanting to stay home more with Carley and Squirrel, and my growing disdain for poker in general...as well as my disgust at the growing, almost offensive amount of juice being charged at their tourneys...and frankly, it has become awfully easy to just go on about my way and not let the riff with THAT GUY and THAT COMPANY cause me any unrest. Simply put...I just don't care that much. If I want to go play poker...somewhere, there are plenty of places I can go to play. Plenty of places with large prize purses. I will reiterate, the ONLY tournament I regret not getting to play...is the WSOP MAIN EVENT. Because of the structure, the exposure, and the gigantic prize pool, that would enable a guy like me to make a massive score and just disappear...well, from the poker world anyway.

So...my cause? Here's the thing about causes. People who know me know that I have this blog. And that I get (or used to get, before I quit posting 5 or 6 times a month) quite a few readers checking in here. A lot of people know I have an email mailing list of 1800+ as well. And so, I have been asked a lot to help them out with certain causes. It's tough...mainly because I hate ever saying no to anyone. But in the case of my mailing list? I use that expressly for my various pools that I  run year-around. Those people get my e-mails willingly, but to me, they get them with the understanding that they are pool-related. So that keeps it from being SPAMmish in nature. 

Well, about the time I start bombarding them with 'other' emails...like numerous causes...well, human nature, especially in this generation, is to get annoyed. Even skeptical. And the last high-profile cause I got behind...raising money for the family of Casey Jones...who passed away two summers ago...and was a friend of mine for years, ended up leaving a very sour taste in my mouth. When I was ASKED...by a woman who knows I have a bit of a far-reaching influence in the poker community...to help the family, my immediate reaction was "Great! Love to! Tell me what you need me to do!" On that day...they had collected something like $600 if I recall. (don't quote me...lets just say it was a low number) I got behind it 100% posting the link to donate money on my blog site, touting it on my Facebook, blogging about it...and even put together a Last Longer bet at the Main Event in Bossier City last year, which was eventually shut down by their Head of Security after I'd already collected $2200 from 22 players, including myself. 

Incidentally, the winner of that...was a guy who I had no contact info for...and went bonkers trying to locate. At one point, Mike 'Carwash' Schneider had him at his table at a tourney in some other city...and my name came up. I told Carwash to give him my number...and have him call me so I could get him the $1100 I owed him. (half went to the family, half to the winner of the last longer). The guy never called. Well, finally this past summer at Venetian, he ends up at my table. "Are you Monkey?" Yeah...what's up? He announced himself to me. Whoa! Well come here, I have something for you. And he was cool enough to tell me I didn't have to give it to him right then. I mean...sometimes, that's all a person has on their person. But no! I wanted that money OUT OF MY POCKET! I do NOT like ever owing people money! So we squared up, and the book was closed on the Casey cause/ordeal.

Ordeal? How could raising over $20k become an ordeal you ask? Well, because I guess when you have haters out there...and they sure are easy to get when you play poker...you get the cynics, who want to run around speculating that you are doing it for 'another reason.' That somehow you are benefiting from it financially. Or that I was doing it to get attention. Yeah. Attention. For what? Raising money for a dead friend? Some people are just pricks. I used to think people who are pricks were usually born pricks...but lately, I've changed my mind. Because I see a lot of kids now...and there is no kid that is a prick. They are all so cute, and innocent, and sweet. And harmless. Certainly not little pricks. Nope, not yet. Something happens to them along the way...that turns them into pricks. And those are the people I deal with, it seems, too often. 

All I can do is try to ignore the pricks. Pricks who like to write things about me in their blog. When they have no idea what they are talking about. Or are trying to deflect their own shortcomings. Pricks who like to go around talking shit about me. When they know what they are saying is simply something he wants people to think about me. What those pricks don't realize...is that most people can identify a slimy little prick weasel, by the way he says things, by the way he carries himself...that anything that comes out of his prickish mouth carries almost no credibility whatsoever. In fact, the only ones who really buy in...who take the story and run with it...are his fellow pricks. It's kind of just one big Prick Community. I'm not positive, but if I had to guess...I would imagine they even carry membership cards identifying themselves as pricks.

And so...this experience with pricks, has 'caused' me to be a little nervous about getting involved in anything where I might have to run the risk of being seen as an opportunist in any way. The best kind of causes, are the ones where I can donate my time, or donate money anonymously. Anyway. I will get to the point.

You might see a charity link in the upper right hand corner of my blog right now. There is a gal who is a very dear friend of mine. Her name is Nikki Ivey Moore. Moore was just added to her name last year, when she married another friend of mine, Brandon. They both used to be dealers on the WSOP circuits for years, back when I just started playing. I got to know them really well. Nikki eventually worked her way out of the box and into a supervisor's role. For whatever reasons, Nikki and Brandon both stopped working for the WSOP. They worked some independent events, and even got out and played a little bit. I remember in the past year, they both won a satellite into the Main Event for some event in the Caribbean. I was excited for them.

Well, Nikki's father had a bout with cancer years ago. He underwent a very arduous battle with it before finally beating it. Which made it all the more difficult to deal with, both mentally and physically when the cancer returned...now more aggressively. It is the kind of cancer that insurance won't get involved with. The expense in treating it is astronomical. But through a ton of research, and following up with one reference after another, they were able to track down a clinic in Japan who has some ground-breaking form of treatment that has been showing amazing results. Well, they decided they HAD to get her father to this facility. They don't come to you...you have to go to them. So Nikki contacted me, asking me how we did the charity for Casey. 

I told her I wasn't the one who started it, but that it was run on this GiveForward site. I told her I wasn't a big fan of the site...mainly because they don't have a way to accept PayPal payments...which to me is a 'must have' these days in anything you want to take online payments for. I also wasn't really thrilled with the percentage of the funds they take for their 'administrative' fees. But the pros I guess outweighed the cons, and she decided to go ahead and use them to help promote her charity for her father. So I signed on to help, making a small contribution from our family and adding the link to my blog page, as well as posting it on my Facebook. I've been checking back on it to see if they are getting any closer to their goal of $30,000 and it's obvious they have a long way to go...and only about 30 days left to raise the money.

Look. I get it. Christmas is around the corner. We just had the Typhoon in the Philippines. We just had 70 tornadoes rip through Southern Illinois and killing people there. (now, if karma was working it's magic...there would have been a certain prick who lives in Southern Illinois scooped up into one of those funnel clouds and dumped in a sewage plant 30 miles from his home) There are a lot of people out on the sidewalks ringing their bell asking for a contribution. Certainly, there is never a shortage of places to make a heartfelt donation for a good cause. I'll be honest. I've never met Nikki's father. So I have no real connection with the man, or major reason to want to see him win his battle and go on to live a healthy life. But I do know Nikki...and I know what a sweet, wonderful person she is...and that alone, is my motivation to help her. I have a daughter now...and I know she loves me. And I would like to think that 20 or 30 years from now...if I was in the same boat...that she would do the same for me.  I watched my wife drive in the middle of the night 7 months ago...to be by her father's side in Birmingham for a life-threatening surgery...and sit there with him for four days...while I was home taking care of Carley. 

He would survive the surgery...and come to stay with us for 6 weeks, while he recovered from the incredibly dangerous procedue. We were happy to have him here, he got a chance to get to know his grand-daughter...and Cheryl got to spend time with her daddy. Then, out of nowhere...he was struck down by a heart-attack...right in our living room. Efforts to save him on the way to the hospital failed. Looking into the eyes of my wife was one of the hardest things I have EVER had to do. I didn't know what to do, what to say, how to act...other than be strong, and supportive. It was horrible. Cheryl has had moments over the months since his death, where she cries, missing her dad. The most recent, was during Cruising the Coast, an annual event here in Biloxi, that her daddy used to come down for every year in his old, restored pickup...and take her cruising with him. Sometimes Carley is laying in bed with us...and will start waving and saying 'Hi!' to the ceiling...and Cheryl has almost convinced herself, I think...that Carley is being visited by Granddaddy Sonny. 

Some people think babies/toddlers have the ability to see and communicate with the dead. Who am I to say it's not true? I  mean...it would make sense right?

The point is...little girls losing their daddy's is something I've had first-hand experience with...and it's terrible. And so I would like to help Nikki avoid losing hers. So I am asking you to help her out. Not for ME...but for her. That's it. That's my speech.

It's Friday. Carley is at the sitter. I have promised myself that I'm going to the gym today. Squirrel is out in the kitchen doing this thing that drives me crazy....going through ALL our food and throwing out everything that has an expiration date on it. EVERYTHING. And you may be saying...well, duh! But you would be shocked to go through your cupboard and see just HOW much is in there that is out of date. I just stay out of her way...otherwise, I end up battling for certain things I don't want her to throw out...and we get into a big fight. And no...she won't donate it to the needy. She considers that mean. Okay...I fold!

Alright. There's your blog folks. Today is the 50th anniversary of the Kennedy Assassination. I wasn't born yet. But its amazing how much we've been taught about it since we've been alive. I wonder if we will EVER know the truth about what really happened on that fateful day? Movies have been made, books have been written, certain 'witnesses' who could have been useful in proving what happened have mysteriously vanished or died from unusual circumstances. It's truly one of the biggest tragedies and mysteries of the 20th century. RIP President Kennedy...your legacy is still felt, 50 years later.

MONKEY