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.
« Home | Hot off the Press »
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Karaoke Poker
I have just got in from a momentous marathon of poker, much amusement and another 20 exhausted camels - I think I have to pay my propers to the oasis theory. I may be about to have my last cigarette and my first swim. Last year the 24-hour poker marathon took place after I busted out in the wonderful Sahara - this year I thought I'd get stuck in early. The venue was Planet Hollywood, thanks really to Matt and Clare, who treated me to two cracking meals and my first experience of Pai-Gow - little bit addictive that one (another for the list) but I did bank some profit having been down to our collective last go. The three of us played our additional profit to the inevitable conclusion, then the two of them headed to bed, while the one of me headed back to the poker tables at around 1 a.m. The prospect of writing the blog after the afternoon's poker disaster was not a good one. It had not gone well for the first 12 hours - a loss online as I woke up (you fucking loser as Evil Dennis so charmingly puts it), followed by $500 gone at the $1-$2 table with a bunch of amateurs, calling chunky raises with 9-3 and 6-5 then hitting trips. Then a further $180 at the $2-$5 table - the eternal wisdom of upping the ante when you're down. Hardly a card to speak of except the occasional big pair each time beaten by pocket aces, utterly disguised by sheer incompetent betting, and yes I made some mistakes too, pushing for wins with meagre resources. First live poker etc etc... more excuses available on demand.
So arriving back at the $1-$2 table, I discovered the Tattooed maniac from Tasmania, who was betting increasingly large amounts blind, followed up by an all-in raise on the flop, again still blind. Anyway I watch and wait, delighted that he keeps winning, despairing that someone else will take him out first. They have no idea how to deal with the Tasmaniac. I however do. The key is to get him heads-up for his whole stack or at least with very few other punters with a half-decent hand, but not to get beaten by the others in the pot who have actually looked at their cards. One guy tried taking him out with two threes, making his odds of winning 50-50 at best - he lost his entire stack and any sense of enjoyment...."the injustice of it". NOT, Evil Dennis retorts with the customary "you fucking loser". Soon an off-colour Kojak pulls out his lollipop, which translates to me picking up King-Jack off suit, almost certainly better than the maniac's random hand, but pretty dodgy if everyone wants to have a crack at him. So I call two bucks, the others fold, the maniac bets $100 (he's won a few of these crapshoots luckily, so is still in the game and upping his ante, while hastening his inevitable exit - this will most likely be the last opportunity as seven-deuce can't keep winning). He has two hundred bucks, as indeed do I. Jolly punter with not too much idea calls a hesitant $100, and I make the somewhat dubious decision to call. I know I'm probably ahead of Tasmaniac, with any two random cards, but will my K-J beat the Jolly Wally? So the flop comes 8-7-5, which suits my hand not all, and we check to the Tattoos who makes the expected all-in bet, another hundred bucks. Wally thinks a bit and calls which leaves me looking decidedly second best. Jolly is in fact very jolly and definitely drunk (as am I a little after a beer and wine chaser over dinner) and instead of wanting to get one-on-one with Tattoo dude, he begs me to call too - "I'm on holiday let's have some fun". Anyway I'm getting 5 to 1 on my money, so I agree with him that I am on holiday and shovel my money in with gay abandon. Because it's a cash game no cards are turned over, so I wait with baited breath for something nice to happen, like a King or Jack riding over the horizon. But they don't, (probably cos they are both at a strip-club with the queen - this is Vegas remember). A ten pops up first making Jolly even jollier (he does have one of these and can't resist flashing his friend), followed by a delicious nine, giving me the back-door straight, a $600 pot and a deal of credibility as the man who sent Captain Tattoo meandering back onto the strip for his next unholy alliance. He had 4-2 off-suit "LOL" but left happy nonetheless. However he was upsetting the natives by beating their big Ace hands with his twos and threes, and needed to be dealt with. Normality is restored,(nine people betting two dollars to see a flop) albeit with some envious eyes from across the felt "You're the man", they say. Yes, I agree that I am indeed the man and proceed to fleece these unwitting, intoxicated darlings for swathes of their cash, with a great smile and some gentle banter - these people expect to lose, the key is to make it fun. A privelege in fact, a cheap lesson I would say. And they'll be back for the next 365 days, different faces, same differences. Those hours from 11 til 2 are like happy hour for the cash-hungry and I was somewhat starving after all. Well it was fun for all of us I think. So I cash in a modest $400 of profit and try my hand at some tournament poker as a late entry, which will then punctuate my departure as it can get very hard to leave a juicy cash game.
I make a brief foray into the 2 a.m tournament for a short sharp $60, expecting to return home once it's done. Well that obviously didn't happen and I sat down again in the $1-$2 game (partly because the sexy, dark, dusky dealer Mimi had finished her shift and was now playing), alas with big Afr-Am boyfriend by her side although I did take all his cash when we both hit the flush - mine the nut flush, his 7-high - sent them packing I did, with a smile my way from Mimi too - might be back there later). Anyway I proceeded to hit some big cards for the next 9 hours, staying for a long while around the $400 mark (having bought in for my statutory $200), briefly touching $500, almost down to $300, before a couple of monsters, one of which is still irking me.....
.......I had 10-7 of diamonds in first position and made it $4 (I had forgotten to straddle - betting $4 'blind') to go with a lot of talk about the pocket Aces I was representing. This gets a few laughs and a lot of callers, but crucially no raisers - a good way of controlling the pot against less-experienced players (the guy to my left didn't raise it up with his two Queens - major error). So when the flop comes 10-7-5 with two clubs, giving me a huge 2 pair, I bet a modest $12, (just under half the pot) tempting a raise, which was duly forthcoming by Drunken Jake, fresh from North Hollywood, in fact not fresh at all, but great value as he took down three casino jackpots for hitting quads thrice in thirty minutes. So Jake, 'Neighbour to the Beckhams' as the English contingent from Carlisle had coined him, pumps it up to $30 with his Queens, called by Flush-draw Freddy with his two clubs. This comes back to me and I add in a further $100 just to keep it lively, and to price out the draws. This is called by Double-Queen Dude and also after some muttering about value by Flushing Freddy. Freddy has $30 left and Duo-Queen has a further $150, leaving me concerned. So I ask for the 10 of hearts, which duly arrives as the fourth card, "the turn" on the board, and I make the massive mistake of checking my full house. If I bet $50- $80 bucks they will very likely call (given the pot is four hundred big), and then Duo-Queen will be unable to resist the pot-odds for the final all-in bet. So we all check the turn and the river is another five but not a club (so Flushing Freddy can no longer be parted from his final $30). I get a little greedy and bet $160 which Drunken Jay - his actual name - considers for many a moon before deciding to keep his cash. I had the stone-cold nuts on the turn and only a Queen would have spelt disaster (another reason to bet as I gave him a free card to beat me), but by waiting til all the cards were down I lost my chance. The upside is no-one saw my hand and of course I didn't show, but when quizzed I claimed to have had a busted flush with Ace and a little club, buying me no end of kudos as I had won the pot supposedly with a massive bluff. So I live and learn - poker is not about winning the pot it is about winning all of their money when you win the pot. Still I did get $250, a crucial lesson in maximisation, and oodles of 'cred', which I put to fine use on the next hand (not so long this one I promise - short, sharp and simple)......
.......I am now in the big blind with A-4 of hearts and the pot is straddled (effectively a third blind, double the size of the big blind, so $4) then raised and finally arrives at Flushing Freddy who goes all-in pre-flop for his last meagre $30, leaving me and the skinny Scandinavian to contest a side-pot or just check it down and see who beats Flimsy Freddy. Well I'm having none of this checking down business as the flop comes J-8-3 with two hearts. First to bet, I fire in $140 (forcing Skinny to bet his entire stack) with my nut-flush draw leaving Skinny with a dilemma as he has Ace-Jack and correctly reasons I can't have him beat as I wouldn't possibly have bet so big (If I had a very strong hand like trip 8s or trip 3s I would have suckered him in slowly and with a big pair like Kings or Queens I would have re-raised pre-flop). So he makes a correct call as he is a marginal favourite against me hitting a fifth heart, but he hasn't reckoned with 'the force' - much more powerful when focused under the influence of drink, cigarettes and sleep-deprivation (this last one especially so) and my Queen of Hearts arrives without any further delay on the turn. Another big pot with a ton more kudos for my sheer naked aggression (the joy of having a deep stack of chips is you can take on the world with reckless relish).....or you can just do it regardless....works for me, although Evil Dennis is muttering his customary riposte...reminding me of 2006, 2007...
....The third big one was against the Skilful Swede (quite a big player, although fuck knows what he was doing at the $1-$2 game, although to-be-fair it was clearly the most fun game in Vegas. In fact Phil Ivey (the world's finest poker-player without too much argument) was playing craps in Planet Hollywood last night and took away a cool $400,000 just to put things in perspective. So the Skilful Swede raises to $10 bucks, and I wake up with two Kings in the small blind and make it $30 to go, which he duly accepts, as Carlisle Dave (whose Embassy Regals I'm now blagging) bales out of the kitchen - he can't stand the heat, as he only likes pedalling the nuts. The flop arrives J-10-5 with two clubs, and I bet $55 which is then re-raised by the scary Swede all-in, leaving me wondering whether he has three-of-a kind. My initial instinct is to play safe as I am now in profit for the day, and it has been hard work, with many beers and cigarettes consumed. Then I start chatting to the young Scandy lad, and ask him what he's got and whether he'll show me his hand if I fold - he says he won't. So then i ask him what he thinks I've got and he says definitely not Aces, probably not Kings as I wouldn't hesitate so probably Queens. All of this chat is leading me to an instinct that he is probably on a flush draw or maybe he has two Queens himself, and besides my King of Clubs gives me back-door potential (two running clubs, provided he doesn't have the Ace) - so I call his $200 re-raise with a degree of conviction. It is a great moment in poker when you take many minutes to make a huge decision and then say those immortal words "I call you" - most people are expecting the fold at this point. When all the cards are dealt I ask him what he has (as the cards have not been turned up). To my relief he says a pair, which cannot beat me unless he has Ace-Ace, most unlikely. His pair is in fact two Fives - he had 5-4 of Clubs, a good bet as he would have one if one club comes or another four or five. In addition I might have folded - anyway the club never arrived, nor another five or four, and he good-naturedly shipped his $300 buy-in my way, a mere 10 minutes after it came his way. A new friendship and respect is formed and I suggest to him, "the pro" that he talks too much as he suggests to me, the big stack to give him three hundred chips back in exchange for three crisp C notes, freshly liberated from his wallet. I duly oblige - my stack is now over $800 big, chips and bills overflowing into my beer holder. My kudos and confidence is now proportionate to my lack of sleep and I leave happy, wired and slightly determined to quit the Camel Filters in the morning. Well it is now one in the afternoon (two now after the read-through) and I haven't yet been to sleep but am feeling great and rather like a final cigarette or two (I will have to resort to pinching more of Tight Gary's here at the villa - tight because of his poker, rather than any Scottish tendencies or gay shrinkage.
So that's it for now and I still haven't told you about Karaoke poker - Planet Hollywood's lively Karaoke bar is right next to the poker-room. Imagine a 90-year old wrinkle-cap with ruck-sack still adorned singing Staying Alive a few tones too deep, but with a few vital hand-movements and the whole casino bent-double with laughter.... gotta go back, but then there's also Fat Elvis at the Venetian, so big he can't stand up off his stool. So many options here in fabulous Vegas and right now sleep ain't one of them. There will be more soon...first bracelet event Friday probably failing that Saturday definitely...... a swim and a smoke and some lovely sleep, but then again Germany are taking on Brazil about now. Maybe I'll just sail through.....
7:54 PM | Permalink 