Born 30 something years ago into a card-playing clan in the North of England: the low-roller's poker odyssey has taken him from the school common-room via down-trodden Midlands' casinos, smoky Cotswolds pubs, celebrity Soho drinking spots and of course the ubiquitous world of cyberspace to the home of poker itself, Las Vegas. Join his search for juicy take-downs, great pot odds and the occasional back-door straight as he goes for glory.

Friday, July 28, 2006

BIG FULL AT CAESAR'S - ALAS NO ACTION

Yesterday was a good day. It was MB's birthday: my friend and host in LA. July 26th was also the start of the Mayan Year - July 25th being known as the 'Day out of Time', celebrated as a holiday in much of South America, particularly Brazil. The basic construct of the Mayan Calendar is that instead of having 12 months of arbitrary lengths, a system that makes no sense at all, there are in fact 13 lunar cycles. If you want proof, try looking out of the window occasionally, and on a good night you might see a white thing up there - it's called the moon. She moves in cycles of just over 28 days. 13 x 28 makes 364 which leaves one day over: hence the Day out of Time - I sensed it was not a good day to play poker, but it was important, even though I busted out and played like a muppet, as otherwise Keir might have passed me by, as I am pretty focussed on myself.

My early escape with A10 was pretty poor play on reflection, as it was clear I was beat, and my final demise was pathetic, but the experience was invaluable (strange word as where does that leave valuable). He has been ensconced in my room for the last two nights, until Mr. Bull arrives tomorrow. He was staying at The Wild West, which had no internet connection, just to name one of its failings. In fact I think we could have some new rhyming slang here: my poker in event #37 could be desribed as a bit Wild West, i.e. not the best. Yesterday I entered a tourney at Caesar's Palace, and this time was playing my best, more Mae West than Wild West, until my eventual demise, which was again pathetic. I had made a serious error in not checking the blind/ante structure in advance. With most people at the table still having around 6,000 chips more or less - in my case less, I had been pushing all-in with anything playable, some small pairs, some medium aces, and some not so playable, but not unhappy to be called, offering the chance of a double up. I ended up calling off all bar 1100 of my chips with A10 - obviously my blind spot (I have been here before a few years ago), which is pitiable, as he showed my nemesis, the AQ offsuit. Still with the levels about to double to a total of 1700 per pot, all of us at that table were in poor shape, bar one or two stacks, so a gamble was needed. All was looking great when a 10 flopped, but running clubs made him the nut flush, and sent me packing by 10.15. Still the tourney was not going to end anytime short of 5 a.m. so it turned out to be a good decision, as I will explain later. Such tourneys are little practice for the main event - a total crapshoot. I needed to muscle early and build some chips. Still the crack was good (I don't know the Irish spelling) - American poker is much more lively and interactive. I don't go to English casinos anymore, because they are full of social retards, although Walsall is always good for some action, not all of it that pleasant. You usually need a shower or two afterwards.

I had started with 1500 chips for my $120, and had refused the extra 3000 chips at a cost of an additional $100, until the end of level two, as it gave me some small-stack leverage, which I failed to exert, as my one or two good hands failed to attract any action. How I wished I'd played this hand slowly. In second position with blinds of $50-$100, holding $2,200, with my $3,000 add-on still to come, I pick up:

HAND ONE: MY HAND

I had had this hand in identical circumstances in the $1,500 WSOP event and raised to $325 which attracted no action, and I had thought a raise of $250 might attract a call, but do I really want callers with their marginal aces or kings? Probably not. However, in the crapshoot, where you need action to build a stack, playing it slower might have worked better. As it was, everyone folded to my $325 raise bar the small blind, Goggle-Face, (for that was what he was wearing), who held:

GOGGLE-FACE

The big blind, Hans, mucked his hand, later saying he might have called a smaller bet. He was holding:

HANS

and the flop arrived...

THE FLOP

We both checked, and the turn arrived:

...which would have given Hans a full house. Goggle-face and I both checked again, with me praying for a big card on the river to give him some sort of hand, but alas the river was small too, and Goggle-Face couldn't call my bet of $300 on the end. The guys at the table did guess my hand however, but I remained tight-lipped, but now you know (if you believe a word of this deranged rambling) - after the Mayan calendar bit you may be questioning my sanity, but it's good stuff, trust me - I think you can get one at 13moons.com. I will be ordering six new ones (for the price of five) in ten minutes. It is more than just a calendar, it is a tool for self-knowledge, which is ultimately all poker is about. Anyway thanks guys for a fun few hours - come and liven up the English casinos anytime. Having said that, my games at The Fox Inn and The Groucho Club are pretty hard to beat on that front. We English even have some strange rules about talking during a hand....

There was one great move when Will-3K doubled through at Goggle-Face's expense. Goggle-face had successfully bluffed Will-3K previously, and naively showed him the bluff - nearly always an error, as you create a desire for revenge. Later Will-3K had his opportunity and raised from early position, holding pocket twos, called by Goggle-Face in the big blind. The Flop arrived 10-7-2 rainbow, and Goggle-Face bets at it with Q-10, which Will-3K (very nearly Will-No K, but that's another story) raised with just the right attitude, like he might be bluffing Goggle-Face as a vendetta move. Anyway Goggle-Face fell for it, hoisted by his own petard, and re-raised all-in to lose half his stack and all of his face - what little we could see of it under the blacked-out ski mask. Will-3K was rocking to his ipod and the table was digging the kid from Denver. Sunglasses, (and ipods to a lesser extent) make a mockery of the game, and the look is so bad, especially on TV - it's like playing with the living dead. Phil Hellmuth, my challenge to you: Prove you are as good as you say you are, and you surely are top notch, by winning with a pair of eyes and ears. You've got quite a nice face, don't be a zombie. Phil Ivey don't need no help; none of the old school of poker would countenance the idea. OK, I've got that off my chest - needless to say I don't intend to wear my sunnies, although I did recently buy some nice Paul Smith prescriptions, so I haven't precluded the possibility on occasion. If they give you an edge perhaps you would be foolish to refuse.... Talking to a guy from ESPN, they are looking at the possibility of playing tournaments without shades.

Anyway back to yesterday: what made my day good, apart from busting out of a $220 tourney with a whimper? My last $1100 went in with a K8, which as it turned out was enough to beat the AQ on my left, but Nuts from Nottingham, called blind with a small stack - his second or third attempt in fact, but valid given his 'M' (ratio of stack to blinds+antes, rather than his own personal James Bond character), and his Q3 off suit hit two more 3s on the flop. So I was headed back to the MGM, for a night of low-rolling at the $1-$2 table, where no seats were available, but there was a $115 sit-and-go with one seat open, which clearly had my name on it. Only the top two received money: first place paying $600 and second paying $400. This is clearly so that the last two are tempted to make a deal, and start making the casino some money elsewhere. Every single casino table now has automatic in-built card shufflers - obvious really as this is the town more than any other where time is money. So I am in this 'sit-and-go', which for the unitiated does not refer to the players who sit down, shovel their money in at the first sight of some picture cards, and then 'go', scratching their heads, wondering what went down. It is a one-table tournament where the blinds go up every 15 minutes, and most of the players did on this occasion sit down, shovel their money in at the first sight of some picture cards, and then 'go', scratching their heads, wondering what went down. Holding $1500 in chips, I am in the big blind, when third seat bets $400, called in fifth seat and in eight seat, and I look down to find AK offsuit, which was an easy all-in. Third seat calls showing pocket 10s, fifth seat shows pocket kings and a grin, and eighth seat folds, and I somehow know I am going to triple up, which I duly do when the ace hits. Within seven minutes we are down to five players, three of whom appear timid, and I make it to heads up with a highly aggressive player, who has a 4-1 chip advantage over me going in. I suggest, half jokingly, a split, and he offers me $425-$575, which I refuse, so he modifies it to $450-$550, which I might have taken, but deals bring me no satisfaction. I play to win. Lying down and accepting second place is not my bag. So he busts me on the second hand, with my KJ dominated by his AJ. I was happy and in profit for the evening and went looking for my seat at the $1-$2 table, but am told there is a waiting list, although there is a seat available at the $2-$5 table for a $500 buy-in....Terry tells me I could turn that into $1,000 in seconds, so I go with that, and play some good courageous poker to add an early $100, having seen one guy bust a guy for his whole stack, giving him over $1,000, piled into The-Three-Towers. I've always wanted enough chips to be able to do this - occasionally I practice at home with my thousand chips which my son, Max, aged five, is currently putting to good use. I played one hand with him a month or so ago - he had 4-2 of diamonds, and was betting it hard against my J7 offsuit, which hit top pair. He proceeded to pull runner-runner diamond and scoop his first pot. Of late, he has been taking down brother Joshie, 11 and Uncle Mark, a seasoned pro...."Daddy's in Vegas, I'm all-in, so show me the money, and pass me my milk" - apparently he has yet to lose - a sure-fire way to whet any appetite.

Back to the MGM cash-game, quite serious this one, not much banter here. There is only one purpose - to take each other's money. I am doing my bit, playing my Mae West poker, when I pick up this hand in early position (under the gun in fact - first to act, for those of you who might think I have a fire-arm at the table):

HAND TWO: MY HAND

As I have said previously, I have this sense of late about 10-9 that it is going to be key for me over here, especially when clubs are involved. The ten of clubs is equivalent to the ten of disks in the Tarot deck. The card is the last in the Tarot deck and it symbolises total completion on the physical and monetary level - it is titled "Wealth"..... So I make it $15, called by Worm in the cut-off, and by The-Three-Towers in the Small Blind, and Samuel L in the big blind, making a pot of $60. The flop comes:

THE FLOP

The blinds check and I bet $25, with my gutshot draw. Worm folds, the Three-Ts calls and Samuel L folds, and the turn is pleasing:

THE TURN

This gives me the absolute nuts. Three Ts checks as do I, bringing a harmless river:

THE RIVER

Three-Ts checks and I bet out $50 at a pot of $110, whereupon Three-Ts thinks a short while before raising me a further $150. Back to me: I deliberate for just the right amount of hand before indicating with what I thought was quite a care-free gesture of the hands, uttering those delicious words "I'm all-in". Before the words are even out he has said "I call", revealing confidently:

I take a little longer before tossing the nuts in his direction - I am not throwing almonds at him - that would be rude. Now it is me who is the master of the three towers. After that I have the confidence of a pirate in a whore-house, and the spunk to hammer it home, with a few cards to boot. Soon after I play a rather loose Q8 of hearts to a raise of $20, after limping initially, and flop 7-3-2 with two hearts; Samuel L and I check to the raiser, Worm, who makes a continuation bet of $50, called by Samuel L, and raised all-in by me, hoping for them both to fold, or failing that I've ehough outs to give me the right pot odds. The first bit of good news is that Worm folds, the first bit of bad news is Sammy-L calls me with the nuts, trip 7s. The second bit of good news is that I make the flush on the river, but alas, it comes after the second bit of bad news, as the board pairs its 2s on the turn. I lose a $600 pot, but muscle it back over the next hour and leave feeling like the low-roller is picking up steam, as I cash in exactly $1230 - almost as satisfying as finding the perfect backpack in Walmart for $4.74.

Anyway my back is killing me, so I am taking a break and am enjoying listening to Bill Hicks do his Jay Leno selling Doritos bit -"you do a commercial, you are off the artistic roll-call forever..... unless you're Willie Nelson". You gotta be here I guess. As I write, the suitcase of 'stuff' has arrived from my 'sponsors': backgammon board, promoting Party Gammon, books, magazines, a logo-encrusted suitcase, a palm-pilot from which I can no doubt play poker, logo-encrusted water, sunscreen, lip stuff, gum, a metallic money-clip, caffeine drinks (so I can stay up longer playing online); books by the man who sold out, (still you gotta make a living and his books are good), magazines, a suitcase, (said that, I think, and don't forget the cuddly toy, Bruce), so many shirts, caps, blah, blah, blah. Currently PP are requiring me to sign I-don't-know-what-away to wear their shit, sorry shirt, in exchange for my hotel bill - something of a dilemma currently. It feels a little bit uncanny that Bill Hicks should be in the middle of his diatribe, as this suitcase of bribes arrive. Will I sign the form? Will I suck Satan's cock?

This is getting ridiculous, as I have spent most of my evening writing, and really I am here to play poker, but my surroundings are pretty conducive. I have been carrying around in my car eleven framed pictures, bought from a thrift-store in Joshua Tree for the princely sum of 50 bucks. I am surrounded by all my special items from home. The Mac stuff is awesome - let's see: you can buy this computer with no aesthetic quality whatsoever - it is constantly sending error reports, and is prone to every virus under the sun, or you can buy a thing of beauty, whose system cannot be compromised, and which is a joy to use..... Tricky - emperor's new clothes, methinks. I'll be having words with Billy boy one of these days.

I have also invested in the Mac ipod dock - Mr. Bull's needs have to be seen to, and today the wireless Mighty Mouse, which feels somewhat symbolic - no strings attached. Anyway enough, Keir has gone to the Rio (by the way he busted out of the $1,500 tourney with a $2,200 payday, annoyed with himself for not pushing more). He plays Day One tomorrow - I will be updating a little over the weekend, but essentially this is me checking out. My preparations for this are crucial: total one-pointedness, I'm sure you understand. Most of the things I require are in place - diet, clothes, and now Mr. Bull, currently heading to Gatwick airport London. I will give you a little piece about him (actually written by him - but don't tell him I told you). I'll try and give you some poker hands - might try and explain to Mr. Bull how to do the html stuff, but you are more likely to be getting an overview.

I've just been downstairs to the MGM poker room, where there's a guy at the $2-$5 table with piles of chips up to his chin. Over thirty piles - impossible to count - it makes my three towers look like change from a Snickers. The buy-in is a maximum of $500, and I estimate he is approaching $10,000. I kid you not. Talking with Jeff, from LA, I saw him raise a flop of 7-5-2 rainbow $350 with Q-10 offsuit, only to hit a 10 on the turn and put his unfortunate opponent (who presumably had a 7) in for the rest of his cash. He looks a little bit like the milky-bar kid, (not the chocolate-eating geek).

I think I might be losing the plot, as I have this strange sensation here in the MGM, of the ground moving underneath me - not surprisingly Jeff hadn't experienced this - perhaps MGM is atop a vortex? I have been utterly sober for a week now, so you can't point that finger at me. There is certainly some strong energy in this town - the circus at the Rio is now in full swing. Tomorrow I bring Mr. Bull to the oasis that is room 436