Diary of a Low-Roller

80% of it is just showing up.

2009-09-24T09:17:00.003+01:00

Where did I show up today? It began early, it often does - the welcome arrival of Sonya into my home, RV-land, the Winnebago Warrior, parked outside the twin palms of 1916 Salem Street. We"d slept apart as she"s been needing to sleep on her back, undisturbed. Its been a few nights now and as I write there is the possibility of some dessert after our sumptuous feast, the midnight variety, buffalo burgers, pecorino and avocado, all washed down with a Californian Pinot.

Still half asleep, with a dead cat in my mouth, seemingly, I stumbled into the fridge, dowsed the pussy in orange juice and started the Beemer, heading to breakfast at Bustolinis. A quick visit up the one-way street wrong way round and we were busting moves with soya mocha triple chai twist cappucino. Bob the owner informed us we were looking cute online where the Prom-party photos lived - I informed Bob that his complicated drinks rocked, his cafe too. Nearly awake now, we headed the right way down the one-way and onto the Chiropractor, Alan "Quick" Silver, to see if he could work some magic on Sonya"s resident pain.

After the formalities were done, and Sonya explained that she"d brought an Englishman to observe his skill in muscle testing, he began the session, starting in the shoulder area. It didn"t take him long to live up to his name, working his way down to her oh-so-cute gluteus maximus. It makes it easier to manipulate I guess if you give it a Latin name, even in front of her moderately-impressed handler. Before long the pervy-practor was humping that ass, all in the name of therapy. The shame of it truly - I guess that"s why he wears the shirt with the overhang...."and for this one I have to bring my hip right up and over and, and, and...." he shuddered and grunted and the moment was done. Another bone rightfully placed - the Chiroprictor was quicker than silver and doubly deadly. He could seduce a virgin beneath the gaze of her mother and all her sisters and still come up smelling of roses. Dollars were exchanged, phone numbers weren"t and we retreated, licking our wounds, mine mostly financial with a mere hint of what-the-fuck-pervy-dude, Sonya more philosophical, still shooting some pain and unconvinced of the virtue of muscle testing - easily influenced by suggestion apparently, like the virgin, mother or not.

Thirteen hours later, a lot of tapping and some pertinent questions and we have both got to the gluteus maximus of our issues. Sonya"s pain has faded considerably and I remembered back to my first credit card, a debt of $200 or so and a summer of discontent. Well two weeks anyway - I"d been "got" a job, pretty shitty, manual labour, shovelling sludge and painting, in between reading "The Sun" while hiding in the shitter. Most of the way through my "hard labour" we had a poker night back home, always a family affair usually with a couple of imported suckers to sweeten the pot. I ended up down in money but up all night, a bad combination with a 9-hour shift of drudge and sludge awaiting. One hand in particular stuck out for me, as usual the ones remembered are the ones we lose. We were playing a vicious game, 3-card Bragg (where playing a blind hand allows you to play at half the price) with a wild card or four and I had the second best possible hand (trip aces I think) and was raising and re-raising my dad, Peter, who was calmly doing the same....He had the nuts of course, three threes and did after a while have the good grace to call the raising game to an end, "you can"t win son..." So here"s a template for my future...all-night poker sessions, issues with Dad, struggling to pay off the credit card. Good to have nailed it, now to tap it, change it and evolve into abundance.

Out of town for a few days

2009-06-29T15:17:00.002+01:00

I ended up 28th in the PLO tournament for a $5300 cash. I'm headed out of town for some r&r as I've been feeling a bit under the weather - hence the lack of posts.

Dialysis Dave - how not to play poker.

2009-06-25T02:25:00.007+01:00

THIS IS THE LAST POST - IF I HAD MY TRUMPET I'D BE PLAYING IT. THE LOW-ROLLER HAS HAD HIS DAY. ALL FUTURE POSTS CAN BE FOUND BY ASKING THE SIMPLE QUESTION,
"WHO IS MISS MORIARTY?" - follow the link and all will become clear....

http://missmoriarty.blogspot.com/

I am still kicking myself about the hand I didn't play. Dialysis Dave raises the minimum which is $1200, and I have A-8 offsuit in the small blind having paid $300, with over $10,000 behind. Ace-eight is known as the deadman's hand as Wild Bill Hickock was shot holding aces and eights. There were so many reasons to play and yet I folded - first off Dialysis Dave was barely alive, by his own admission, and it would be only courteous to send him to an early bed. His game was transparent too - he was in the cut-off (second last before the dealer button) and his raise was clearly a marginal hand. The big blind recognised the value and called an extra $600 chips. The flop arrives A-A-7 and DD chucks in $3000 like a man who ain't going away. The big blind folds and Dave shows his hand (again) - A-3 of spades. In short Dave and I would have gone to war, and the Dialysis kid would have needed some major surgery to survive - a split pot possible but as my 8 was bigger than the 7, I am confident I would have won and been in a very strong position with most players playing weak-tight, alas including me - the folder. As the crystal-merchant says in 'The Alchemist' - "every blessing ignored becomes a curse" - the old-timer later limped in with King-nine (K-9 or electronic dog to those in the know - ha-bloody-ha). I have 9-5 in the big blind and on a flop of K-9-5 I was destined to lose all my chips.

A few hands back I'd gifted Dave a swing of $10,000 with this hand. I'd limped under the gun (first to bet) with 5-2 of diamonds. I'd won the last three hands with J-6 of diamonds, A-8 of diamonds and 6-2 of diamonds, so I couldn't throw the magic 52 away. You may well ask what I was doing playing these hands from early position, but the vibe was there and no-one else was having it, so in stepped me. J-6 and 6-2 both reached show-down, so the table was raising eyebrows or they should have been, but if you meet no resistance....

So I call 5-2 for $600, the small stack raises all-in for $3000 (with Ace-Jack "Ajax") Dialysis says something about a gamble and time for bed and decides to call, so I am obliged to call as I stand to win $9900 at a cost of $2400. Odds of 4-1. The flop comes Q-7-5 and I bet $2500, called by DD with 7-8 offsuit. Next a ten, checked by us both and then a King, which means I can no longer win the main pot as the English short stack has "the nuts" - best possible hand. However there's a side-pot of $5,000 which will make me break-even on the hand. Dialysis is looking for an excuse to fold and like a muppet I check, thus giving up $5,000 to a man who doesn't know what to do with. One bet and he folds and I've pulled off a major coup. Those $5,000 chips would have meant I'd still have had $10,000 more than Dialysis when the elcectronic dog came-a-snooping.....

I'm putting it down to experience, jetlag, lack of proper food, sleep etc. No in reality I'm seeing a crucial poker lesson that I already know, but in poker as in life we keep making the same mistakes. I will win provided I take enough time to ponder the decision and await for the answer to arrive from that place where intuition resides, between the gut and the head lies the answer. It's called the heart. Enough poker therapy but it does help to get it writ. It was a $65 tourney and there will be a million more.

Is This Faintly Ridiculous or What?

2008-08-20T01:12:00.009+01:00

The algorithm on Full Tilt never ceases to amaze me. Having just won a $55 Turbo Sit and Go, I am three hands into another one and find two black jacks from early position, so I raise the pot to $140 and get four callers, no respect and a flop of 8-7-6 all spades, so happy-go-lucky I dive all-in. The first guy folds, the big blind is of no concern and the button hits "time" - so far so good - the little shit calls eventually, "slow-rolling" his way through amazement via delight with a stopover at smirk-city, as he reveals the stone-cold nuts - 10-9 of spades, a straight flush, an everyday occurrence round these parts, along with his twin brother quads. I smile and reach for the blog button.

Sunday saw the culmination of Full-Tilt's regular series, a $500 buy-in event, for which I'd played three qualifiers earlier in the afternoon in Oxford. I'd finished my week of videos in Henley with Barry feeling as good as it gets - thank you, thank you, thank you. U-Tube "Barry Long" if you must, but unlike what I said last time he ain't for the curious. This planet isn't quite ready for BL just yet....

I bubbled the one qualifier, making a small profit, lost another, but won the key one, a $75 Sit and Go. I'd actually had no intention of playing, but had been 'instructed' by a curious pub sign, The Seven Stars, having hired a postal dvd of The Seventh Seal, which I had found out (too late alas) to be utter garbage, but felt a certain obligation to watch it anyway. Demi Moore, pregnant back in the 80s, with shades of Rosemary's Baby, shades of The Omen and shades of shite too, but my sort of shite nonetheless. So ten minutes in, sanity is only retained by switching on the lappy, logging in and playing a blinder. An hour or so later, my seat assured, I pack it all up with the clock closing eight and head to pick up my son from Worcestershire, where I'm met with the inevitable delay as I look for more of these postal dvds. Cancel the subscription, cancel the credit card and never go there again.....

Max and I are now in the motor, the Main Event starts at eleven and it's two hours up the M1 before I'll be back home......so I'm wondering who can start the tourney off for me - not my brother as he'll donk off chips for sure, not Tom as he thinks Tilt sucks, but there is Shaun out in New Zealand... so a couple of text messages later and he reckons he'll be home before me, once he's dealt with the bank in Monday-morning Kiwiville, so I take my foot off the pedal and ease into the average-speed camera police-state scenario. Three great tips for these:

1. Change lanes all the time (recommended by the internet).
2. Hide behind lorries (Russian roulette and not enough of them on a Sunday night).
3. My favourite, as yet unproven but a lot of fun: flash the headlights right in their face with a joyous "fuck you" and fingers.

So no tickets yet touch-wood. It's at this point that I discover that banks in New Zealand are as you'd expect, slow, backward and full of Kiwi sheep-shaggers as well as other monday-morning stereotypes, so Shaun's not getting home anytime soon. I now have to step on it, with some well-timed lorries, some full-beam bonanza and hope in my heart...."It's a mission from God". I get home and luckily everyone's asleep, so no delays there. Max my son is in bed in seconds, while the computer is warming up, although a new software update costs me a few more blinds. But I'm soon in along with nearly 5000 others, having lost only 40 minutes and 400 chips (out of 5000). There's two and a half million dollars in the prize pool, with nearly half a mill for the winner, a hundred grand for fifth and money right down to 648th. I'm also racking up four tables of Omaha cash to add a further 50% to the burgeoning bank-roll.

Anyway I start well, negotiate the bubble with a shortish stack, and reach 23rd place at my peak (with around 100 players left), before running out of cards and shoving $150,000 all-in from the small blind. There was $40,000 in the middle from the blinds and antes, everyone else had folded and I had AQ off-suit, after what had seemed like hours of six-deuce. The big blind insta-called holding A-7 of diamonds and flops the nuts, three diamonds to shouts of "robbed" and "rigged" from my rail buddies - Shaun and now also Texas-Jake from the villa who'd been following progress and dreaming of a big win with flights to blighty for a slap-up. It was not to be: out in 54th place out of 4880 runners but I did take home $4500 for my troubles to cap a $7K week. The key is surely to play less - weird but true. Enough of my bad beats - it was good to show the boys I can still play the game after some no-shows in Vegas. Not smoking is a biggy for me, Mr Barry Long is bigger still for me, and the rest is down to the cards. Maybe just one more game....

Must Do Better

2008-08-15T01:03:00.003+01:00

Yes, this is me apologising to you for not writing for far too long. The navel has been gazed, the smoking has continued with no quantum of solace, UNTIL.....08 08 08 a momentous day when an Olympic decision was made to put it to bed once and for all. The result is I'm feeling great, still playing poker but less addictively and more effectively. This week I've been watching videos near Henley, spending time with a man called Barry who's no longer with us but his legacy lives on - www.barrylong.org will give the curious an idea. I've played poker twice this week, once from the comfort of my car as thunder, hail and rainbows saw me play perfect Omaha for just under an hour - the result: I lost $500 with equanimity. Luckily I had just received my monthly rakeback of $550, so $50 profit...or not.....I flop the nut flush, he has the straight flush, I'm shafted and so it went on. Unphased I returned to the tables later that evening after another hour with Barry with my mind set on some righteous payback - the alternative was celebrating a birthday with a thousand teenagers at the house in which I'm staying half-an-hour's drive away in Oxford. Back on the Omaha tables I made my $500 back and signed in for a Pot-Limit Omaha Hi-Low Eight or better tournament, $75 to enter with eighty-five other runners.....Three hours later we were down to the bubble....ten players left with nine getting paid ($150 upwards). I'd been playing well and was leading by a fair margin.... One hour later we finally eliminated a player to get to the final table. I'd played well but no longer had the lead..... Twenty minutes later I'd regained the lead by which time we'd knocked out six of the nine players. Third would win $840, 2nd $1140, 1st $1920. This is the most important stage of any tournament - you have to convert these - my ratio at this stage is good and one hand later the point was proven. I dealt with the last two offenders in one fell swoop, very satisfied if not somewhat cheated as I'd bypassed the whole heads-up phase of relentless bluff-glorious bullying. Still I was not complaining. I'll give you the hand in due course for those wanting an education in the vagaries of Hi-Lo action. Right now it's bed and Barry again tomorrow. Thanks to you loyal readers who've been checking for updates. Bob, your jigsaw is next...I've done all my other orders and have saved the best for last. Andy great that you've enjoyed the diary so far - thanks for your comment too it means a lot to hear especially after my muppetry in Vegas and the ensuing blues that has been my diet for a few weeks now. 08 08 08 has dispelled all that - JOYOF6 is back: check my home-page for clarification. James and all you others I can promise you there's more in store.....adios amigos.

Homeward Bound

2008-07-19T21:45:00.003+01:00

What a joy to be back in this country of ours. I was done with America, its appalling media and its prozac-happy falseness. I can now turn on the radio without moronic commercialised blandness fucking my head-space, turn on the tv and not find bloody baseball. Everywhere in America, for me particularly noticeable in the poker rooms, there is this background of bollocks tv. Last year while playing the main event I nearly puked over seat 10 as the hot-dog eating championships aired to the unsuspecting. This year it took place in Vegas a week or so ago and some metabolic freak broke the world-record. In twelve minutes he managed to stuff in 66 dogs, that's one every eleven seconds - these people need to be arrested and stopped, in the name of public decency. They will pay with their lives in the long run of course, a simple failure to acknowledge that your body amounts to what you put in. Enough of them anyway - Bobby was good to me, putting me up beyond my expected stay. No thanks to manyana Mike - too long working in the marijuana dispensary I suspect. It is now legal in much of California, all that is needed is a doctor's note and some rizla.....

So here I am quietly clicking away in the background, still on Full Tilt, plying my two accounts (mine and my 'mum's', which affords me four-figure rakeback every month) playing some freeroll with a chance (eventually) to play Phil Ivey and Gus Hansen for a million quid. There is only one prize at this stage, $500 and a seat, so I am waiting for No-Limit-Shiva and Shivalingus to be moved to the same table, so they can get fruity. In the meantime I have had two nights back in Yorkshire and have been playing the tightest Omaha, six tables at a time, turning a tidy but very necessary profit. Daytime has seen me behind the wheel of the treadle machine, cutting jigsaw puzzles in between watching some weather-beaten golfers and searching for some unlikely hope in Headingley. I am lucky to have a thousand quid of jigsaws to cut and nearly the same back in the bank from some judicious omaha decisions. Max, my son arrives at midnight on Monday, Zeb my brother on Wednesday for his annual party and I am enjoying my first cigarette of the day - you can beat post-prandial. The night-shift has begun and my nut flush is being nailed by the straight flush, my full house by quads - bent poker on full tilt seems to be my karma right now. I'm still in the freeroll with both 'Shivas' - just limped with AK to flop quads and get paid off by some muppet with jack high. My poker is way better than before but will this translate into reddies? Watch this space.

The Real Hustle

2008-07-15T10:21:00.002+01:00

A trip down Larry Flint's Hustler casino was a sufficient substitute for the Donkeyhouse. Guys pushing all in with nothing while I was smiling a full house all the way to the bank. The money was short-lived however as when I woke up my car had disappeared, leaving me to think of LA gangs hustling my little red Kia on a few drive-bys. The reality was I'd parked in front of someone's drive, and 200 bucks later it was free from the pound......oh dear. Spirits are high after a slight wobble and tomorrow I'm in the air. I've final-tabled a fair few online tournaments, but the big money (for the top three spots) is still proving elusive. As I write the world series main event is within one person of its final table. The biggest 'bubble' in poker as the remaining nine will be assured of lucrative pay-offs with big sponsorship deals to boot. I am ready for England - LA is a lonely place and my buddies from the villa are sorely missed. I still appear to have a few regular readers so I will try and keep up the writing. It does sometimes feel a little exposed here with the diary, but blog on I shall. It's also that poker is essentially mind-numbingly boring, so we may have to branch off....Evil Dennis has some suggestions but I'm not sure I can go there. Til soon...

Still doing Good Business

2008-07-11T22:19:00.011+01:00

The poker session continues and the sun still shines somewhere outside and sometimes the moon too. I make occasional excursions outside to smoke and savour, before returning to raise and fold. Bobby and I have just concluded a 150 person rebuy tournament. We went into the final table in first and second position, and eventually finished third and second, my Ace-10 of hearts being outdrawn by KQ of diamonds when he hit runner-runner for his flush. Occasionally a shout from the other room - "he's yours Bobby, take him down", and Bobby duly did. Three seems to be the magic number - Mike get over here, I know you're reading this - I made the final table of a 6-handed multi last night (I had contributed a good portion of the $3 rebuys in a vain attempt to build chips early), reshoving Captain Aggression with King-Jack suited only to walk into his pocket Queens, busting out third after some Lazarus-like revivals, while pedalling my customary short-stack. I want a big stack please.

So we're back in the zone again and the day is young, although I'm no longer creaming the super-turbos, rather the opposite in fact - shafted by 'poker-donks' or maybe 'bots' with strange betting tendencies, programmed by nerds in some dark corner of Northern Europe to play the poker-screens while Klaus enjoys his sauna with Inga. No stereotypes here.

The poker robots are becoming increasingly prevalent and profitable. Bots were discovered milking the cash games on Full Tilt, one of the only two sites available to US players, thanks to big bad Bush, seems not give a damn as 24-hour robots mean 24-hour rake and more 'players'. Barack Obama loves his poker - whereas McCain has been known to love a 14-hour craps session, so the legislation may be reversed: it was after all sneaked in at the back of another bill that had already been approved, 'piggybacking' as it is known - this is why the Main Event numbers have declined since the peak of 2006 when almost 9,000 runners contributed to Jamie Gold's $12 million legal dispute. Come November, America will be a different world and poker will be on many people's minds with the circus returning to town for the WSOP final table. Who would you rather have in the Oval office, a geriatric foul-tempered crap addict or the guy who knows his way round a full house via the back-door flush. It's a no-brainer - old crappy crinkly guy or unite the nation weaver-boy? So America may get more choice than 'PokerStars' - great but not available on a Mac or the other option, Full-Tilt, where bots swarm, and data-miners track your every inclination. Yes I'm fed up with Tilt - spent a few hours earlier playing against lucky bots/donks.

It is a murky world - don't go there unless well-equipped, and the hands are ridculous - set-ups, stitch-ups and bad-beats. Anyone who says that online games aren't juiced up needs to come down to my poker-den for some improper education. Late/early last night I flop a set of 6s (three-of-a kind to the uninitiated) on a board of A-10-6. I get all-in with two others, both of whom have A-10, and without even a blink up pops the 'case' ten to nail my ass.... Pocket Aces every five minutes, usually in conflict with at least two other pairs, all flopping sets. More royal flushes than fingers with nut-flush draws, overpairs and more back-door options than the pet-shop boys' greatest hits. Online poker is like TV poker, they edit out the boring bits and every one goes broke, the bad players get lucky and all for one reason.....money. They sit on billions of our hard-gambled cash reaping the interest on top of the rapid-fire rake and they can't even mange customer support. Having said that Day one of the Main Event saw a flop of A-K-Q all clubs. The pre-flop raiser bets his trip Aces, which is then raised the minimum. The turn brings the fourth Ace, and all the money goes in to reveal J-10 of Clubs for the Royal Flush, busting out Quad Aces. So rigged or not rigged - who knows?

Evil Dennis is back from myriad misdemeanours, looking for more and liking the change of pace here in LA but is already hankering for bright lights and magnificent breasts.......although The Donkeyhouse, an underground poker den run by Thais with far too much gamble in their blood beckons.

So I'm in a knockout tourney - just taken my first scalp - a $2 bounty and Bobby's doing the six-table rebuy option, just seen a Royal Flush in spades, I've had the same once in a live game at "the Fox" which curiously led to me being backed by Nick and Rupert. I will be back next year to do justice to your investment. I'd like to come back for November and write it up for the poker-starved and maybe a wider audience too. What with a new president and the WSOP final, I think November here in the great-again USofA will be worth writing for.

...... fuck, fuck , fuck ....just fell victim to the curse of the pocket Jacks. I raised the limper, who'd just restolen our steal, and then the button raises just over half our stack. All I need to do is flat-call, see the flop of 7-2-2 and shove it right up his Yankee butt and he has to donk or fold his Ace-King. As it was I pushed pre-flop and the ever-present Ace on the river nailed my butt instead. You know what Evil has to say about this - yes me, a fucking loser. I need to get into playing more flops, trusting my instinct more and listening to the voices out there and that little voice in here. Rather like the pyramid of power, my 4-sided jasper pyramid that I place on top of my chips. Whenever I went to make an ill-fated raise it would slip somehow. I heard the message, "don't do it" yet couldn't stop myself and went ahead anyway. Does anyone know a cure for this? Answer's on a postcard to one the poker suites of BobbyTransville. AAARRGGHHH.

Three is the magic number

2008-07-10T20:14:00.006+01:00

It's been a strange but somewhat wonderful day. I attempted to go to sleep until someone from Manchester rang me at 5.30 a.m. for the second night running.... Evil Dennis has plans for Manchester. Unable to return to sleep I resolved immediate action and hit cyberspace armed with cartons of cigarettes, cups of tea and my new-improved knowledge. I dropped Jake off at the airport, Sean off at the Imperial Palace and the kids off on the way out. Heading out on Interstate 15 into the sunset we made good progress, thanks in part to Evil Dennis's cavalier disregard for the speed limits. Stopping for gas, smokes and sustenance I consigned Evil to a sulk in the back seat and discovered the wonders of cruise control...."you fucking loser was the refrain from behind" - I pointed out the five cop cars we passed at a sedate seventy but Evil is a thrills and spills man so wouldn't be told. Arriving in LA a few hours later, I made it to Downtown and Bobby Tran's place, covered in a film of pollution. It took us ten minutes and a sandwich before we got out the poker chips and the beer. Eight hours later Lam (Bobby's cousin) headed off to work the corporate legal world, lighter by a few dollars, and Bobby and I headed to the screens, where we are still conducting good business. Bobby's made it into the money of the $3 rebuy, I've raped the super-turbos, quadrupling my initial $400 buy-in and Evil is conducting his deviant agenda as usual. I have prised myself away from multi-table mayhem, content with just the two tourneys to write, currently lying 8th out of 78 in the hi-lo eight or better and looking to go higher. The lows are gone and I'm scooping the pot, buoyed by three wonderful messages - first my brother Zeb: "Hi Sim, really sorry to hear that you've been busted out. I imagine you've replayed the hand many times in your head and it's probably a bit of a head fuck. Try not to dwell on it and enjoy the rest of your stay. You have a sympathetic ear from me when you get back....and don't go crazeeee in the meantime!! Zx", made my day you did Zeb, that and the two comments on the blog. The mysterious Woody - who are you and how come you're here - wherever here might be? and Jo where can I possibly begin - perhaps where we left off.....? Thank you thrice, twice as nice, you have rocked my world....and got me back between the lines of low-roller heaven. That's your lot as Evil's champing at the bit, I'm off break in the multi (now lying second) and Bobby's in deep and doing well in the poker too: 14th out of 412 starters with 32 left, loving LA....

And then there were two

2008-07-10T02:06:00.002+01:00

Just Sean and I eating blueberry waffles, before a final swim and a race across the Mojave to Bobby Transville in downtown LA. I am feeling good - I know what action needs to be taken. Poker got me into this and poker can get me out. I put $400 onto the account, having donked off with some unlucky Omaha outdraws. A few hours of play later and it's over $1100, so the future's bright - it always is if you want it that way. I have made some friends for life, with options to visit Texas, Kiwiland and Thailand, and have learnt more about poker in the last two weeks from these guys than I have in the last two years. I may yet stay the distance - my flight is booked for the 15th and there's some money to be made in this ole screen here, plus an adventure or two, maybe even a return to good ole Vegas - I hear the Rhino season may be upon us soon - probably when Tom busts the main event (hopefully not til November)..... I also have a suitcase that's has been resident in New York for two and a half years so I should get it fedexed over, which will necessitate the delay - there's some good stuff in there. That's it for now - thank you my 53 loyal readers. thank you Paul for this great house

Aces and Kings

2008-07-09T11:37:00.003+01:00

I found my aces today, alas not in my hand but in Captain Donkey's when I had kings - so he broke me. The house has been running bad or at least the good guys have. Dinner on Stu with his $48K payout was not forthcoming....Kiwi Sean and Streetfighter Jake have been diamonds. We've just returned from a double bill at the movies: Wanted and Hancock proving a good night's entertainment. The numbers on the blog seem to be rising...god knows why. Schadenfreude is still a beautiful word. Returning to England is not going to be easy. Three years I've spent my online profits here in Vegas and I'm questioning many things. I'm writing now more out of sense of duty than any real desire. Thanks for reading, thanks for backing me....should the book ever emerge and more crucially sell more than 52 copies I will be true to my promise and your investment shall return, but who's to say? It's five to four here and three's been good company tonight. I'm looking forward to a hug from my boy - a quantum of solace for the credit-crunch kid. The dream is not extinguished but the silver lining is elusive in a cloudless sky. Go west young man....

One man down one man Up

2008-07-08T09:01:00.002+01:00

There are now just the four of us in the house - a Kiwi and a Mexican (currently playing a game of pool) and two Englishman - one down on the trip (that'll be me) and one up - Stu, who made it to the final three of the Venetian $1000. He chopped the money for $48K but lost the run-in for the extra $10K with four big bad beats. Gary has hot-footed it to California and I won't be far behind. The villa concludes Wednesday and that will be me done. I've enjoyed my time - I've played well with limited opportunities: I'm still waiting to pick up pocket aces - one last chance tomorrow. I've constantly been pedalling a short-stack, so have been hampered in my options. My big hands have rarely been paid off and my Ace-Queens have been the death of me again, although I made a great call today when I picked off a large river bluff with AQ today. My demise was pushing all-in with a short-stack from the cut-off (one off the button) with Ace-Jack suited to walk into Ace-King - there is always tomorrow. Thank you Matt for your texts, and thanks Anna - I will make it up to Oregon one day.

Once more into the breach

2008-07-07T18:57:00.003+01:00

Dear friends, spirits are good. I'm off to play poker - what else? Thank you Rich for your comments - ominous silence elsewhere. Yeah you're gutted too or a few (perhaps deserved) sniggers at this wandering dreamer. Happy birthday Stu - sorry I missed it yesterday. Happy birthday Alexis - thanks for the chat on the mountain. Til soon

Busted

2008-07-07T09:36:00.004+01:00

Not the teen trio - but me out of this year's main event. With AQ (the dreaded) on the button I find myself facing a raise from the Jewish pro who's been raising three times a round. He makes it 900, so I make it 2500, which he calls as he has been calling every re-raise. The flop comes 10-6-5 with two clubs which he checks. I make a continuation bet of 3000, which he flat calls. The turn brings the Queen of clubs, giving me four cards to a flush (I have the club ace) and top pair. The pot is now over $12,000 so I push my last $8,000 and he calls showing Ace-Ace. I need a club or a queen to win but find the curse of Scotland, the diamond 9 and a quick exit to the car-park. I've run it by the boys at home, and there's not much I did wrong. I might have checked the flop, but I would have still lost a good portion of my stack, so here's to you and some great support. The boulevard of broken dreams has caught me speeding, and I've been low but the home-boys have been great, so I'm better but this ain't easy to write. Ridiculous Stu did buy 3% of my action so I'm $400 to the good on the day, which I will invest in one last poker tournament tomorrow before a drive back across the desert and an early flight home. Sleep beckons - sorry to those of you have backed me. Will I be back next year? Who can tell? It doesn't look great from this angle. Some navel-gazing is now due - all suggestions welcome.....

Independence Day

2008-07-04T20:59:00.002+01:00

I have my $10,000, I have made my decision, I will play the final day, July 6th. I am feeling the pressure - I am still reliving that hand at the Venetian, and I intend to assert my independence and head out of town. Rather like Gary Numan I need to spend time in my car - back home I average two hours every day of the year. Over here I am getting withdrawal symptoms, and I can't face two days of thumb twiddling, so Arizona here I come....sunset in Sedona should suit me fine. That's it, I'd like to make some witty repartie but the butterflies won't let me. Thanks to you 30 something loyal readers - this 30 something would like to be richer at 40, but it's going to take something special with 52 cards.

Spike City

2008-07-03T20:02:00.003+01:00

I'm feeling pretty gutted having played right through the first day at The Venetian. We were ten minutes from the end of play and ten places from the money, having outlasted a field of 300 with 30 getting paid. I had just crippled a poker legend, T. J. Cloutier, who was sat to my right. The blinds were $1,000-$2,000 the antes $300 and an early raiser makes it $6,000 to go. T. J. who's an ex-football player and built like a brick shithouse, calls on the button. I make it the extra $5,000 as the small blind with King-Queen offsuit and the big blind comes along. So there's $27,000 in the pot and I have $54,000 left. The flop comes J-10-7 and we check it round to the big man who bets $25,000 - I put him all-in with my K-Q, and he calls with J-8 of hearts. I have four 9s and four aces to make my straight as well as the remaining six kings and queens so we are close to 50-50 with two cards to come. One card is all I need as the turn and river both come nines. So I double through and he is all but crippled. I have the chance to finish the job but I need to call a $17,000 pot with a pair of threes with three players to act. So I leave the job to the big blind who beats his A-6 with A-7 - my 3s would have been good. My demise came when I manage to get all the money in with A-Q on an A-10-5 board against an A-J who spikes his Jack to bust me. So gutted and double-gutted. I spent nearly the whole day peddling a half-average stack and got back above average with the money looming. I had my money in as a 2-1 favourite and you can't say fairer than that. I am looking to start my challenge on the final day, July 6th and am feeling a lot more confident having played through a super tough field. The Main Event doesn't rate to be nearly as tough at least early on....we shall see.

Deep-Stack Venetian

2008-07-02T18:44:00.002+01:00

The Irishman came good - I have copied the WSOP coverage below for those interested. I am off to play my first poker in a while a deeps-stack tourney at the Venetian - $2,500 buys me 20,000 chips with 1-hour levels. The field is likely to be tough, but the format mirrors closely the Main Event. Thanks to all of you who joined my Facebook group. Til soon.....

Hand No. 133 - Peter Jetten has the button, and he limps in. Marty Smyth raises the pot, and Jetten comes along. The flop shows up Q clubs, 9 hearts, 10 clubs. Smyth bets the pot, 600,000. Jetten announces, "I raise the pot." Before he even has the chips out of his stack, Smyth moves all in, and Jetten quickly calls. When the stacks are counted down, it's Peter Jetten who is covered, and he is all in at risk of elimination. With a mountain of chips in the middle of the table, the hands are turned up: Jetten: K spades, J diamonds, 3 diamonds, 2 clubs Smyth: K clubs J clubs J spades Q diamonds The showdown bring the entire crowd to their feet and cues a rowdy chorus of cheers from the two opposing sections of fans. Jetten and Smyth have both flopped their straight, but Smyth is freerolling with a redraw to a straight flush! The suspense in the air is tangible, and the cheering becomes a wave of noise that engulfs the whole room. The Irish side of the room cheers, "Club, club, club!..." while the Canadians across the stage simultaneously chant, "Brick, brick, brick!" With everyone still on their feet and the noise almost overwhelming, the dealer burns and turns fourth street: 7 diamonds. The Canadian section erupts even louder when they see that brick peel off. Their guy has to fade just one more card to chop the pot and go back to square one. The crowd leans forward on their feet as the dealer knocks the table, burns and turns the final card: 6 clubs ! A huge roar follows from the entire room. Marty Smyth nails an incredibly profitable club on the river, making him the winning flush and earning him the title and the bracelet! We truly could not imagine a more thrilling finish to our event!

7th for Tom

2008-07-02T07:31:00.004+01:00

An early night beckons - I have been down at the Rio today watching Tom make it to 7th - he started as the small stack and never improved although outlasting 8th and 9th netted an extra $50,000. He has a $130,000 pay-packet and is no doubt still there as it is down to the final two, with Marty Smyth, the other Irishman right up there with a Canadian. There is far too much testosterone down there. I have nothing interesting or even faintly amusing to say so I will leave you with a photo of what might have been - we were invited to a poker party tonight with Shannon Elizabeth.....

Bowling for Columbine

2008-07-01T16:00:00.004+01:00

POSITIVE QUOTE OF THE DAY
-----------------------------

"Creativity is inventing, experimenting, growing, taking risks, breaking rules, making mistakes, and having fun." - Mary Lou Cook

Maybe I qualify, maybe I don't

Dusk til Dawn

2008-07-01T14:59:00.007+01:00

It's 8.15 and Jake, Gary and I are spoofing for the right to go to bed. I've won already and the other two have made the final table. I've declined my option and am writing to you lot instead. Jake is cooking breakfast and Gary is allowed to bale out after another cigarette. Gary got home at 4.30 to find himself immediately sequestred on a return to the Rio. We went to cheer on Tom Hanlon as he tried to survive to the final 9. We arrived just in time to find them bagging the chips - Tom has made it. He has the small stack, just under $200K with blinds of $12,000-$24,000. The 'grinder' is leading the event with $1,767,000, and the Irish also have the 4th spot with a million in chips. I think I am obligated to support my friend tomorrow, in the name of research, rather than play the Bellagio - that will be there another day. My friend making the final table of a $10,000 event, well that's pretty special and the Irish will be out in force and you all know what that means. Tom arrived jet-lagged on Saturday having failed to qualify for the second week of the European bridge championships - a fortunate turn of events. He managed four hours of sleep, before a fifteen hour poker session. Heading home he bumped into some fellow Irish in the bar at the Wynn, which took him to 7.a.m. Midday saw him embark on Day two and a further seventeen hours of chip-shovelling his small stack. We celebrated with a beer or two (never believe a poker-player) and he has an interview with the TV people at midday followed by the sponsors at one p.m. which should see him net a further $20K to wear their logo and then the miracle mile as the plot reaches its denouement. Tom is relaxed and will undoubtedly be more relaxed with a drink or two. I have just been fed a cracking scrambled egg by Jake, who lost the spoof and am trying to make sense before a welcome return to bed. So there it is - enough for now. A photo or two of my crew and thanks and double thanks to Paul McDonnell (have I spelt that right?) without whom I would never have met these five: Streetfighter-Jake (in blue with a smile), 'Ridiculous' Stu (in an appropriate shirt), Golden Gary (on the right looking £23K richer, and doubled-up Sean - anyone wanting to gamble $10K by backing him for the Main event? He's the best out of us all by a country mile. So the offer's on the table - somewhere under Rainbow we might find the treasure....and now to bed. Evil Dennis declined to have his photo taken as it might mess with his mojo.

Ass Juice

2008-07-01T12:12:00.004+01:00

One of the highlights of last night's frolics was our stint at the Double-Down dive bar. The bar's speciality was 'ass juice' - still unsure of its contents, but it worked for us. I've posted a photo of our new friend 'Crash' from Santa Barbara. We proceeded from there to the poker tables at the Imperial Palace, where our cards ran dry but our throats didn't. Stu managed to lose his passport and $3K at the blackjack tables. I explained to him today how that might have come to pass, as I saw him, wandering round the restrooms with his pants around his ankles having handbags with a punter. He's still in denial about this but it may explain why his passport was found by the cleaner in the trash. Stu taxied home early, we got back at 9, still laughing and still toasting the King of Spain. I woke up feeling surprisingly good and the day has been getting better ever since. Poker has not been on today's agenda - tomorrow we're all back in the fray, me at the $1K Bellagio deep-stack. I'm off the drink and feeling good - we have an invite from Doyle Brunson to a poker party at Sapphires strip club....Evil Dennis is plotting again.

Go Tom

2008-07-01T11:52:00.004+01:00

Before I tell you about last night's festivities my friend Tom Hanlon, Ireland's finest bridge-player, star of last year's "Night of the Rhino" has made it to the last 12 in this year's $10,000 PLO (Pot-Limit-Omaha). It is nigh on 4 in the morning and they will play down to the Final Table of 9. He lost an $850,000 pot earlier and has been peddling the small stack ever since. He's chatting away, drinking rum and cokes like the bar might run dry and is now at the Final Table of 10 people. One more to go and they will close for the night, returning tomorrow for the play-off and big money, $893,000 for the winner, $90K for 9th plus a sponsorship deal assured. Go Tommy - sorry about the photo - it doesn't do you justice.

Lie Back and Think of England

2008-06-30T00:44:00.006+01:00

Gary is sunning by the pool, thinking of England and the £28,000 Fernando Torres has just netted him. He has been making this bet on Spain for the last two years, never adding more than £50 at a time, getting odds as high as 17-1 in the early days. So the best steak-house in Vegas has been booked and Gary's buying. Like me this is his third year in the WSOP main event. He has been all-in pre-flop with Aces and called by an internet punk with King-Jack, and then with Kings - a guy called off his whole stack with Queen-Jack with Ace-King-4-2 to hit his 10 on the river, all of which goes to show there's some live ones out there.

The villa is a cracker - the internet duo of Sean and Jake are playing 24 tables between them, while watching Ricky Gervais on Utube. I have internet elbow, which is marginally better than the RSI that struck after May's marathon of online action - much of it fruitless. My most profitable month ever has been the month I played the least - 3 sessions last May netting me the 10K that persuaded me it was a good idea to come play last year's main event. 95% of players lose - don't join them. It is an addictive world which I would recommend to no-one - we live our lives engrossed in The Screen, whether it be the TV, the puter, or the windscreen as we hurtle at 70 mph along concrete. The Off button is your only true friend. Still here in the screen with you there is some creativity emerging....

My plan has changed - rather than play Tuesday's $1500 WSOP event, starting with a paltry 3000 chips and wading through a field of a few thousand, I am heading to the Bellagio deep-stack for a grand tomorrow and again Tuesday - then some head-together before July 4th and the big action. This year the main event will be radically different because of the delayed final table - 9 people will leave the Rio in the early hours of July 15th, all guaranteed a million, all potential winners of ten million, the biggest prize in 'sport' - if shovelling chips can be called a sport.

My numbers are going up, 71 at the last count and a few more come Monday morning as the inbox beckons the uninitiated. Apparently I have readers in France, the Philippines, Switzerland and South Africa, as well as some random accidents in Bulgaria, Finland and Germany - who are you and why are you here? Welcome anyway, thanks for your support and Chris I will make it to Hawaii one day soon....oh and if anyone likes my website, my most loyal reader Dees is a genius and will do you a cracking job - the brown bottle was Coors light by the way, and no Gary won't be lending you his hard-earned reddies any time soon, though he may yet be in the market for a website, once he makes that Final Table. Here's to Mr. Torres and some disconsolate Germans....Schadenfreude is a beautiful word

No news aint good news today

2008-06-29T19:13:00.003+01:00

Alas Jem, I didn't post yesterday because I was pretty fucked off - the curse of the pocket Jacks. I was chip leader for two hands - my first two hands were Ace-King, followed by two Queens: I raise them both, but alas no action. Big hands early are somewhat akin to a convict in a whore-house....satisfyingly sweet for a second, but desperately short-lived....yes Evil Dennis's mind is a-wandering. I busted out after calling a raise with two black Jacks and finding a flop of 8-4-3. The aggressive Scandy fires a bet, I put him all-in, and he considers himself pot-committed - he had loads of chips and I hadn't won a pot, so was short-stacked and he calls with his blackjack hand - Ace-King and spikes his Ace on the river. I was heading to the door and a return to Planet Hollywood to reload the memory shelf with an $80 tourney. I made it to the final two tables out of 120 runners and pushed all-in with ....yes, you guessed it pocket Jacks. The blinds were 2000-4000, I had 17,000 chips so had no choice. I run into pocket Kings with a 9000 stack, and my final 8000 goes in on the next hand under the gun with Ace-nine of clubs, beaten by King-Jack when he hits. Still I played well. We are now hours from the Euro final kick-off - Gary has £28,000 riding on a Spanish win, so there could be some fun tonight.....Evil Dennis has some deviant agenda that may yet come to fruition. I'll be back in on Tuesday for another WSOP event and then the big one, which is looking like it might attract a record field - 10,000 runners or so. I did come home and play an online multi-player tournament, just to prove to myself I can still play this game and took down first place out of a field of 150. So the day ended with a smile. Thanks for your comments - thanks Tommy - more prayers to the poker gods needed - maybe I jinxed myself with those words "Unlucky for some". Three weeks ago I received a drunken warning from Monkey, fresh in from LA to say goodbye to our dear friend Gervase, "beware the pocket Jacks" - which has been haunting me ever since. I keep picking them up, they keep fucking me up.

Table 13 - Unlucky for Some

2008-06-28T17:22:00.005+01:00

I'll be seated at table 13, my lucky number - born on the 13th and all that. I won't bore you now with my spiel on the number 13th - needless to say it is powerful. Our calendar is in reality split into 13 sections, not this absurdity of twelve months - ever checked out the moon? exactly 13 each year. Seat 6 means I'm in the middle which also suits. Stu is also having a crack today. Sean busted out at the Venetian when his Kings got beat by a 5-outer.
Thanks for your comments - Jas you keep me laughing along. Strongroom James, good to have you on board. Jem watch out for the Shahghai surprise. The stats are rising, the hoodie is bought. I have my positive quote of the day from - Jean de la Fontaine
"Man is so made that whenever anything fires his soul, impossibilities vanish."
I will see you all later with maybe a photo of me plus hoodie.
A last word from my son Max - I rang him up yesterday: his first question "Are you chip leader?" .....