So online poker is pretty dead, huh? It’s a late Saturday night/Sunday AM in Las Vegas, and we just need two more players to fill up the lone $1 sit-n-go on WSOP.com. There’s one player waiting on a $100 SNG, and I’m already down about $12 on the most active NLH and PLO cash tables.
Still, for $1 and a tepid desire to get back in some sort of action somewhere, I’m gonna pay to experience something close to what free players do that makes Caesars Interactive worth $4.4 billion.
UPDATE: Total bullshit. I was all-in with pocket 9s, aggro-dipbag re-raised, my computer was giving me the rainbow swirly, and his pocket Kings held up. 8th place out of 9.
Online poker is tough these days! I’ve got a ways to go, obv, before I can win $4.83 for first.
I got a message on Facebook smack in the middle of the WSOP — June 23rd — from someone I had been buddies with since grade school, but had lost touch with since moving away from Michigan almost 10 years ago. The message started off with him, Dave, saying congrats on my poker career and that he liked reading this blog, which was cool to hear because I usually have no idea who reads this thing, mom and dad excluded. (Hi Mom and Dad!) Dave went on to say sorry for emailing out of the blue but he was really hoping for a bit of advice.
His father had really taken to poker over the past decade, he explained, often playing with friends and family as well as in charity card rooms around their home in Michigan. He wrote that his dad “has long since dreamed” of making the trek cross country and playing in a WSOP event, and that with a rare vacation timed perfectly at the end of the month, he was wondering whether it would be a good idea or silly pursuit. He phrased it in a way that might make you think of a lot of fans of the game dreaming of taking their shot in Vegas, only better, because he made sure to say that win or lose, he thought it would make for a great experience for his dad, who was last in Las Vegas 40 years ago.
Pretty awesome, technologically … even though Pokerati’s official stance is still that cheating is bad.
It seems like only yesterday and forever ago that some of the biggest RPS action in the world was going down at the WSOP, spearheaded by guys wearing patches for Full Tilt Poker.
It’s been a few weeks since my last post but the grinding hasn’t stopped. Well, actually I didn’t play much at all over the Thanksgiving weekend as I spent the holiday in Palm Springs with some family. Here are some photos!
Front of the house we stayed at in Palm Springs
Top of a mountain, accessible by gondola, looking down on Palm Springs
Some cool trees on the mountain top
Me
I went into a bit of a breakeven stretch over the following four sessions. I have only myself to blame for this because I failed to use any sort of anti-jinx methodology. For example, say you send a tweet talking about how hard you’re crushing a game or how amazing you’ve been running at the tables. I usually don’t like to write such tweets because over 50 percent of the time they carry the jinx-virus, which will abruptly halt any and all rungood and stop it dead in its tracks. That being said, it is possible to tweet such thoughts to the twittersphere, but it would be foolish to do so without using anti-jinx protection. You’re simply putting yourself and your bankroll at risk without strapping on a hashtag along the lines of #plsdontjinxitkthx at the end of your happy tweets.
I don’t know why we call the poker gods, Gods, but we do. They seem more like a bunch of high school dropout, weird uncle, goofball idiots to me. When they abandon you, it is the filthiest, loneliest feeling you can imagine. But when they reflect their light on you for any kind of extended stretch, you feel, well, enlightened. Chosen. So in tune with everything you can hear the hum of the earth.
I somehow managed to sneak a $117 victory past the jinx-bouncers playing $1/$3NL at the Rio on the 1st of the month. But the next day when I ventured into the Palace of Caesar, his games of $1 and $3 were not so kind. I left @CLVPoker $400 lighter in the pocket, and followed that with a small $85 loss on the 3rd. My spirits were quickly risen on the very next day, which was a Thursday. Thursday evenings, as you should know by now, means Pokerati game night. The PLO/NL mixed game has treated me really well since its incarnation @PalmsPokerRm (#nojinxnojinxnojinx) and this particular Thursday brought happiness in the form of a $520 win, erasing losses from the previous two sessions. Unfortunately the breakeven stretch continued another day; on Friday I played a long, 10-hour session at the Rio dropping about $700 in frustrating fashion. Actually there was a pretty interesting hand from said session…
I spent the first part of today chilling at my place for a few hours, getting in a light workout then writing a couple emails. Then I made my way to the VW dealership. I drive a 2010 Jetta that I’m a pretty big fan of and it was time for my free 10k mileage maintenance and car wash. Before this car, I drove the 2007 version. Two days before my lease was up on that car, it got totaled when a drunk driver blew a red light in West Hollywood where my girlfriend and I were for the weekend. Neither of us were hurt, thankfully. He took off after we smashed into him, but he couldn’t get very far with the condition his car was in. A good samaritan followed him and was able to let the police know where they could find him. I had my car towed to a VW dealership and was like, “My lease is up… here’s your car back!” Then I leased a brand new model that same day.
I picked up KK in the first orbit of NL in late position, raised and picked up the blinds …
While at the dealership today I read through 944 magazine a bit. If you happen to live in a city that 944 covers, and you like going out, doing stuff and checking out new things in your city, I highly recommend picking up a copy. I also highly recommend they pay me for this advertising I’m giving them but that’s probably not going to happen. There are always so many things changing in the city of Las Vegas–new restaurants, DJ appearances/residencies, happy hours, special events–that it is nearly impossible to keep up. It’s fun to try though, and it’s obviously tough to get bored here.
After VW, it was that time: 7pm on a Thursday, which means Pokerati 1/2 PLO/NLH at the Palms. When I got there around 8 there was a full game up and running and Danielle was already on the waiting list. It took about 15 minutes before we had enough people to start a second table. Pretty impressive, I must say, but not entirely surprising. The half-and-half nature of the game is just so much more interesting and entertaining in my opinion, that I think you’ll eventually see it spread elsewhere more regularly. This coupled with the fact that the WSOP is in full swing means there’s no shortage of players around.
At the World Series of Poker, they announce the event and coveted bracelet winners and then play the national anthem of the country they come from. Play stops at all the cash games and the players stand and remove their hats. When an American won, my table stood with their hands over their hearts and sang. I looked out over that vast sea of poker players and was overcome by emotion. The song always gives me tingles but there was also a love and astonishment at how wonderful the playing conditions have become for this sport. Yes, it is a sport.
The players’ manners are terrific today compared to the past. Johnny Moss was known for being abusive to dealers. Puggy Pearson was worse. He pissed on one once. Another Hall of Famer, Joe Bernstein, bit a dealer.
I cannot sing enough praise for the poker management of Harrah’s. I had long conversations with Bill Sattler, Director of Poker, and aslo Jake Reville, Cathy Klufer, and Carrie Jacobs. For twenty years, I taught management subjects at Texas Tech. The magnificent professionalism of Harrah’s management makes me wish I could go lecture on how great they are. I played in the cheap no limit where you only buy $300. I’ve never lost at the Rio, but only played there seven times. I’m not trying to beat the best in the world anymore. I’m too old.
Check it out, our good sponsored friends at CardRunners like to get a little creative sometimes — making poker training videos that hardly show cards. This one will be extra entertaining for those of you who recognize the name Ernest Thayer.
Here’s a story I heard the other night … like much of what we report here, I have no idea whether or not it’s true. My source on this is generally reliable, and he heard it once-removed from some “online pro” who was in a bathroom stall at the Rio to overhear the following …
(And even if it’s totally made up, I’m sure there’s a funny joke in here somewhere … and Sam and Eskimo can consider it a public service graciously provided by Pokerati to let them know what kinda trash people may or may not be saying.)
So supposedly, just a few days ago, Sam Grizzle and Eskimo Clark were in the indoor bathroom outside the Amazon Room taking a leak during a break. Eskimo apparently asked Sam how he was doing, and vice versa … both grunted.
Then Eskimo asked, “You wanna trade 10 percent in this event?” (I believe it was a $1,500 NL) and Sam apparently agreed, saying, “Sure, why not?”
Sam then washed his hands and left, at which point another player said to Eskimo, “Hey Paul, did you just swap with Sam on the $1,500? He just busted out 10 minutes ago!”
At which point Eskimo responded, “That’s OK. I never even registered.”
It takes a special white man to be able to make slavery jokes … but hey, that’s the kind of breaking down of barriers that becomes possible when you gamble for reparations.
Doyle joked with Ivey about how nice it would’ve been if Phil had been on his plantation 200 years ago. Phils’ response: there’d a been a bunch of black baby Brunsons running around. Lmao
Once upon a time, February 27, was perhaps more important to the poker blogosphere than 4/20. You’d see the pokergeeky intertubes go nuts over the date representing a dream flop for those of us who like to raise from early position with 2-7 offsuit. But after so many years — and perhaps just an economic necessity of grinding in the Obama era — has the Hammer lost its luster?
It’s still been fascinating to watch the mainstreaming of a hand over the years. I hope I don’t get crucified for disparaging the sacred 7-deuce (as no longer seen on High Stakes Poker) … but perhaps the jumping-the-shark moment for the Hammer came when UB took it on?
Details still coming it … but so far it sounds like the feel-good poker robbery of the year:
Last night two masked, pistol-wielding youngins reportedly ganked about $7,000 from a NL Hold’em game of mostly retired old-school Texas rounders (ages 50something to 80something) on the rural outskirts of Dallas.
But sprinting across a rain-soaked pasture to a presumed getaway vehicle, the wannabe bandits apparently spooked some horses … one thing led to another … and with sirens in the background getting louder, two players chasing after them had their own guns pointed at the armed robbers as they lay in a field. According to a source on the scene, the de-facto table sheriffs disarmed their assailants in a hailstorm of expletives, pulled off their masks, and grabbed back the moneybag while waiting for police. (Half the cash was missing, and what was still there was soaking wet.)
Seagoville PD arrived soon after and arrested the two “very young” white males the players had captured.
After talking to police, players returned to the tables and action resumed.
A wise underground poker room operator once advised me (shortly before his room got raided) that every economic bubble burstage in history (or fall from grace) is predicated by luxe so redick, displays so over-the-top … well you can’t really define it, but you’ll know it when you see it … and that’s when it’s all about to come to an end.
In early ’08, the new 24-karat gold-plated Trump Tower began offering $1,000 spa days, complete with massages rubbing you down in emerald, ruby, or diamond dust (depending on how much you wanted to pay).
Now you can get it all for a bargain:
Local Gemstone Dream
For the month of July only enjoy a Signature 90-min Gemstone massage. This therapeutic massage uses oils from Dubai which are infused with gemstones that you can see in the bottle! A powerful mixture of herbs blended with specific massage techniques help to promote physical and mental well-being. This exclusive massage is only done at The Spa at Trump. Monday through Thursday, with a local ID you may try it for only $99 (regularly priced at $275).
Inspiring shit over at Tao of Poker — with reports from the LAPT’s ill-fated venture into Nuevo Vallarta. Shame on me for not considering the imminent dangers … as I forgot whom we’re dealing with here:
Someone suggested that we remove our badges. For a couple of moments, I was on edge and extremely concerned at the safety of Change100 and myself and my fellow media reps like Owen, Otis, Joe, Alex, and everyone else. I never thought that I’d get tossed into prison in Mexico for a non-drug charge. Then I got really freaked out. The federalies wouldn’t throw me in jail. They’d whack me. Journalists are the enemy in third world countries and forty-five journalists were killed in Mexico since 2000. According to Reporters without Borders, Mexico is considered the most dangerous country for journalists with the exception of Iraq.
In the end there would be no gunfire, but a tense standoff between an international poker company and a shady second-world gov creates a pretty dramatic look at the sociopoliticonomic world we live in — with nearly a million dollars in play, one side walks into a trap, while the other shoots itself in the foot … everyone else scrambles in the crossfire.
I caught a glimpse of the economic crunch on the streets of Las Vegas. Construction projects halted. Rusted steel beams shot out of concrete blocks on unfinished architectural superstructures. The vertical ghost towns cluttered the Las Vegas skyline. The illumination of Sin City, once glorious and majestic as the morning light at the dawn of the new day, has been dulled by a morass of financial gloom, so much so that even the languorous hookers were bitching. Shit, everyone was bitching. Cocktail waitresses. Poker dealers. Cab drivers. Valets. And even the crackling snaps of pamphlets from the porn slappers seem a little sullen these days.
— Tao of Poker
You know what, fuck this “Pauly’s the Hunter Thompson of Poker” shit. Woo-woo, I’m a tortured writer who does lots of drugs to share my twisted vision of the world with the world [/whine] … all so you’ll play $10 tournaments on PokerStars … Saturday’s with Dr. Pauly! — and then we can bet more on FantasySportsLive! [/excitement] It’s seems to me like a pathetic cover for life as a (balding) professional shill.
OK, maybe I’m just bitter — because one of my best pals called me a “cooler”. Do you realize how damaging that can be to a guy who scratches out his living as “The Ernest Hemingway of Gambling” a casino hanger-on? Granted, it really did happen for like 6 hands in a row that whomever I stood behind was guaranteed to lose at pai gow — and when I courteously left to play craps for the first time in two years, not only did I blow $93 in about 7 minutes, but also I literally killed the table … messed up a “hot roller” by improperly placing a bet and impeding a flying die with my hand … re-roll … and from there it was craps, craps, craps — seven out — until all the other players left the table rolling their eyes in gambler’s disgust. Ha-ha, luck is funny.
But all is not fun and games here in Vegas these days — in America, really; but the morale-shift seems accentuated in Sin City, where just about every hooker has lost at least one home in the desert suburbs to foreclosure. So it’s not all about me, but I get to be the Set-up Guy (nice) … and it’s definitely not all about poker: DPauly just happens to be journaling life on a road speckled with tables, where he sees the American lives in the face of severe economic downturn — the human condition amid stormy weather — as revealed ever clearly through the teats and mouths of an aggressive pack of 3rd Millineium Mary Magdalenes.
