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.
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Tuesday, July 10, 2007
Life in The Circus
I have just returned from one of the most gruelling seven hours of my life to arrive in one of the most welcome hot baths of my life. I am almost entirely self-sufficient here in the Double Circus, now that I have a kettle that heats up soup and water with a fridge full of healthy goodies to boot, from Whole Foods - a true wonder shop, which I think has now arrived in London: Planet Organic without the price tag. I am waiting for my chicken broth to cool down - i boiled it somewhat, so I need to work on the settings. The day has been eventful and prosperous: there is no poker tournament at The Wynn on Monday, so that was out. I was however still mulling over Saturday's poker hands where perhaps I didn't make the best play or maybe folded the best hand, and knowing this to be unhealthy and irritating I knew there was only one solution: to find a poker game - not difficult round here. I've blown the internet account, thank god, and Barclays Bwank have become sanctimonious as well as greedy and will not extend my overdraft limit for the purposes of gambling. What they do not realise is that playing in the $1-$2 no-limit cash game at Circus Circus is not gambling. Profit is as sure as the sun will shine tomorrow (I'm talking Vegas not Birmingham - currently 'enjoying' a heatwave that touches 120). While waiting for a seat I see Shane from Bermuda, keen on Liverpool but moved to California, going all-in for his last $50 pre-flop with Captain Air (no info on him). They proudly show off their hands - something that is not obligatory in a cash-game, unlike tournament poker when you have an all-in situation. Shane has King-9 of Diamonds and Air has a monster Ace-Ten offsuit, which gets cracked when the nine pops. This is good news as Air takes his beer and his bike and gets on it, leaving me to Shane's left, who is good value on two counts (Shane don't raise $25 when first to act with King-Jack offsuit from early position - you may as well be writing me blank cheques - if you're reading this, firstly Hi secondly Harrington - buy his book). So I buy in for $220, don the shades (not necessary really but it stops the reflection from the aquarium) and three hands in I pick up 9-2 both clubs, and after a couple of limpers, I call too for two dollars - as do all nine other players - extraordinary: my first so-called family pot in Vegas. The flop comes Queen-Ten-3 with two clubs and before anyone can blink, Deuce Lee, the far from inscrutable Oriental, has gone all-in (I checked) for just over $100 to try and win $20, which is called by Zimmer-Frame who still has around $100 left, and naturally called by me on the flush draw. The turn card duly obliges me another club and I make the somewhat questionable play of going all-in, as I'm virtually playing with my last dollars here with no more access thanks to the Bwank. Anyway Zimmer bales so damn quick, so alas his funds escape me and my flush being good, I have over doubled my stack in seconds flat. The game is softer than a geriatric whose poodle has eaten his last Viagra ("Down boy, down"), and I hit some cards too, so I stand up three hours later holding $888 in greenbacks with a smile and head to Best Buy to acquire a copy of Fear and Loathing on DVD - will have to wait til I'm in the right state of mind as it's now after 3 a.m.(surely wrong state of mind? - ed). Yes I think you're right, somewhere around July 17th I trust.
This done I head to Charleston Mountain, where the temperature never rises above 80 with the intention of some exercise. My last run I began at 6.30 and was around 7 miles and I got back before sundown. Figuring that the South Loop which takes me to the top of Mount Charleston at 11,918 feet is supposedly 8.3 miles, I set off just before six with my newly acquired water bottle, a tube of sunlip (not strictly necessary as the sun is behind me) and a shirt - better prepared than the Airport Vortex you will note. Well this hike is different from the last and I'm sure someone wasn't telling the whole truth about the miles either. The first hour is nearly vertical scree scrambling and real tough, and then it is just up and up and up until finally I spot a person when I hit the ridge, which cheers me up no end, because if someone else is here I must be all right..... well this young lady is sort of meandering around and as it turns out she is with a couple of others and they have tents, so we are not in the same boat at all. I am shafted and they are not, as it is now 40 minutes til darkness (as they point out - I don't do watches, the phone is in the car and the head-torch is too, still with no batteries). Did I mention I have only eaten fruit and juices since breakfast and the nuts and gojis are also in the car - so I am low on energy and somewhat starving. So I launch in with "have you got anything to eat?"....These three are amazing: they give me a couple of energy bars, point out my small dilemma of darkness, suggest peanut butter and jelly sandwiches (never had them but would have said yes despite preferring a lobotomy, but was somewhat concerned about the time, and suspected they didn't have a fridge-full ready made). So I took the bars - whoever you are, you three, thank you and get in touch if you can - and off I went wolfing one, forgetting to fill the water and at high speed, as the peak still hadn't been reached. They did suggest I baled back the way I came, which I obviously ignored..... Cutting a long story short I summited just as blackness enveloped everything - got a great photo however, and started running down the other side of the mountain with the smidgin of light still left to me. Thank god for Vegas and its billion Watts of electrical output, almost as good as a full moon, and not as far to travel. Even at a distance of 30 miles, my journey down was made considerably easier by the spectacle that is Vegas buy night. The path was a good one too - these Americans do so many things right......
I got back to my car at quarter to one in the morning despite making reasonable pace, considering it was dark and the Vegas effect was only sporadic, often obscured by big mountains and dark pine-forests. I love this country but please get your miles right in future. And now I am back, bathed and souped, and ready for tomorrow.
I start at 12 noon with a little less than average chips and a fair bit of pressure to double up early. I will be playing out of my skin and I intend to finish the day, 15 and a half hours later, with my stack around the $200,000 mark at least. I am here in Vegas for one reason and that is to finish first or last if you like and win the ultimate prize, which alas will not be matching last year's $12 million. Still I can always sell the book...or there's the option of residing forever here in Circus Circus and taking down that cash-game with impunity. Thanks for those comments: Stu, Paul, Matt and Jason - they mean a lot. You could go and have a flutter on Betfair - let me know what my odds are....I'll be back.
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