Ten Days in the Desert: Day 4
Cambodian Slick
the sportsbook. It seems they wouldnt let him up without his key and
he claims he called us but we didnt answer. He wandered around and
slept in chairs while casino staff followed him around and kept waking
him up. Chonko is now two for three on sleeping out in public at the
WSOP.
We moved all our shit from the Nugget down to the Mirage on the strip
this afternoon. I was sad to leave downtown behind. I feel better
being close to Binion's, close to the action. But I have to admit to
you that staying in the Mirage aint bad a'tall. The digs are very
swank, I do declare. Before we left downtown I surveyed the action at
Binion's and it is a goddamn poker tornado in there. Its dizzying,
truly dizzying, seeing so many people in so much action. Either
playing in one of two events upstairs, or one of the supers, or the
many many many single tables, or any of the high limit games, everyone
is in some serious action. I have to believe at noon on sunday, there
were an awful lot of "A-games" in that room. I had to get away and
stay away today, because the temptation to keep playing satellites is
too much to bear.
Late last night I had an epiphany and admitted to myself that not only
could I not win my seat into the WSOP this year, but that I was not
even close to conditioned to even make day 2 yet. But even having
admitted that to myself, as step one of my program demands me to do,
the temptation of all the satellites, the barking of the floor
supervisor selling seats, the friends asking me if I won my seat yet,
or showing off theirs, the thought that I will end up being the only
mug in Binions actually WATCHING at noon on monday (well, me,
greatbrit, and mike may as it seems right now) keeps me throwing down
my money in the satellites without any concern for how many people
named Chan or Brenes or Heimowitz are sitting there. I mean, this is
some seriously powerful pull when you will lay your hard-earned cash
on the table even if your opponents fucking pictures are ON THE
CHIPS!!! Its hard not to know you are a big dog, but its even harder
not to play.
To avoid the temptation to throw good money after bad, I spent the
afternoon at the Mirage playing 10-20 trying to rack up hours for the
day to qualify for our poker room rate. And wouldn't you know it,
they are having a 5pm tournament. My buddy John and I were supposed
to go grab something to eat before he left for the airport, but I
actually met up with him and told him I was going to go play in the
tournament instead, so bon voyage, its been nice seeing you sucker.
That's what this devil's game does to you. It distorts your
priorities and damages relationships.
Lucky for me, John is about as far-gone degenerate as I am, and when I
tell him this, he immediately picks up his cell phone to check on
flights later in the week. After making arrangements with someone to
feed his cat and making sure he can crash in our room, John changes
his flight to Wednesday and its off to the races. What a great guy
John has turned out to be.
I get a headache so I buy a ten dollar bottle of Excedrin and take a
hot bath waiting for the tournament. I re-read some parts of TJ's
book in the tub and am reminded of an argument at the table in the
super the other day where TJ told a guy he shouldn't go all in with
壮mall pairs' after the guy goes broke with Queens. He defends
himself by saying queens aren't small pairs, and TJ boldy proclaims
"Buddy, Im from Oklahoma, and this guy is from Texas, and this guy
over here is from Mississippi, and they will all tell you that Queens
are a small pair." But in his book, he clearly calls Queens a "big
pair." It's the first sentence of the section that is headed "Playing
the Big Pairs." Hmmm. Perhaps its time for a revised edition. It
seems TJ didn't consult with his Texas-Panhandle hand ranking
committee before the book went to presses.
After I feel good and refreshed on the merits of defending the big
stack and aggressively building the small one, John and I go partners
in the tourney and agree to try not to rebuy more than once and that
we will both take the add-on. I got broke real quick when my Kings
didn't hold up against the Aces in the big blind and I had my C note
out to rebuy before the river card even came down. Then after the
break I made a huge laydown with Queens on a flop of 9-8-3 when I
raised the small blind's T50 bet to T200 and was called by the button,
then reraised all-in by the small blind. The small blind had sixes
and the button had 4-5 of hearts for a baby flush draw (he called
all-in). What the fuck is going on here? Are there so many poker
players at Binion's trying to get in the big one that the only thing
left for me are these fish? Dealer, give me back my queens!! Lucky
for me, a heart came on the river and flushed my buddy on the button.
Eventually I was gone after my tens got beat by AQ, but John was still
in it. And he made it to tenth place in a very dramatic and
well-played end game that found John the short stack after two insane
hands that doubled up the two smallest stacks. One saw AK beat AA
when he made a flush and the other saw 44 beat AA when a 4 hit the
river. John went from sitting pretty waiting for the money to small
stack facing a T2000 blind. He went out on the bubble and we got
zilch. But I think John's confidence was boosted. Rob and I sweated
him the whole way saying "John Bacon is the nuts." This trip has
found us saying that everything that is awesome is "the nuts",
everything that could be a drag but has some redeeming qualities is
"suited"(禅his hotel is so far away from binion's. This is going to
suck.' 塑eah but there are so many beautiful women here to look at,
and none of them have perms or tattoos or spandex on.' 塑eah, you're
right, the Mirage is suited.') and everything that is completely mind
bogglingly crazy to us is "loose aggressive" (遷esus I didn't realize
there were this many beautiful women in America, let alone in one
state.' 塑eah, when it comes to chicks, Nevada is loose aggressive.')
John and I retire to the room to debrief the night and to talk about
gambling, life, travel, and other such things when his friends call
his cell and are downstairs looking to gamble. It seems one of his
buddies has talked him up to them all as some kind of expert gambler
and card counter, and this hot drunk chick wants John to help her win
some money. He is nervous, because he knows he will probably lose. I
leave John with this advice: "Buddy, you're going to lose anyway. But
just what if you win?" I know no better way for halfway goodlooking,
socially akward and quirky guys like us to get laid than to win money
gambling in front of hot drunk broke chicks. Especially if the other
guys in the group are telling stories about you and watching you from
the rail. Yeah, John may lose his ass and everyone will see him for
what he really is: another degenerate addict with delusions that he
can actually beat the game. But there is that shot that he will have
the rush of his life that doesn't just end with him winning five grand
playing blackjack while looking calm and cool chewing on the end of
his toothpick stonefaced like the goddamn Cincinatti Kid, but actually
ends with the proverbial guy getting the proverbial girl and being
that mysterious stranger for one night. And believe me, as someone
with a girlfriend will tell you, that intrigue that gambling gives off
will wear off good and quick, buddy. So make the most of it pal.
It's the stone-cold nuts.
Tomorrow they shuffle up and deal. I plan to be there for the cards
going in the air, but I can't say that I'm going to watch much of the
boring fold-fest that is the first day of action. I read Jesse May's
report tonight, and it was excellent as to be expected. He talks
about how you have to be crazy to win the WSOP, and I think he's
absolutely right. I don't think Phil will win this year, or ever again
for that matter. I think that now that the WSOP is almost a thousand
people, with most of those people having beat out 2-300 others in
supersatellites, the WSOP is no longer a poker tournament. It's a
goddamn small city. And to win, you will have to have to make more
than your fair share of fucking insane, inexplicable, off the wall
plays. You think Varkoni's moves with the pope were off the wall?
What about Shipley's AJ? Or as Jesse reminds us, Jesus's A-9? World
Champs don't get their pictures taken with Aces after the big one.
They immortalize hands like 10-2 and Q-10. Because the cards in those
pictures aren't what won that box full of money, it was the way that
moron moved his chips in the pot when he was dealt that cheese that
won.
Josh and I did a WSOP pool, and I think we both took Jesus in the
first spot, just because of his incredible play all month. But in my
heart of hearts I'm secretly rooting for the guy I picked in the 10th
spot to win it all, because there is something strange and mysterious
and tragic and exciting and complicated and amazingly simple about
Huck Seed to me. He's my favorite poker player, and I'm rooting for
him to get there this year so we can see some more of that poker that
is so knuckleheaded that it can only be brilliant.
Randy Collack
>socially akward and quirky guys like us to get laid than to win money
>gambling in front of hot drunk broke chicks.
these reports are the nuts. cant wait for days 5-10. send pictures :-)
Randy Collack
Brian Court
> suck.' ?Yeah but there are so many beautiful women here to look at,
> and none of them have perms or tattoos or spandex on.' ?Yeah, you're
> right, the Mirage is suited.') and everything that is completely mind
> there were this many beautiful women in America, let alone in one
Your take on Huck Seed is right on the money and your reports are so
knuckleheaded they can only be brilliant.
Brian C
Peter Lizak
> http://www.geocities.com/nycspies/poker.html
Good game of Midnight Madness.
pli
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Peter Lizak
pli...@math.uwaterloo.ca
Scientific Computing Lab, University of Waterloo
Peg Smith
(Brian Court) writes:
>Your take on Huck Seed is right on the money and your reports are so
> knuckleheaded they can only be brilliant.
>
Brian, you don't have to quote the whole damn thing to say so.
Peg
Lou Krieger
have written. Keep 'em coming. I've been here at the 'Shoe for the past
few days and these trip reports are spot on.
BTW, there's a group of security guys looking for someone named Chonko in
the Sportsbook right now, but we told them he made a big score at the
blackjack table, walked off with eight grand and some hot chick looking to
hook up with a big winner and move uptown to the Mirage.
It's all good, all the time.
"Cambodian Slick" <sp...@ureach.com> wrote in message
news:72056a57.03051...@posting.google.com...
> 'small pairs' after the guy goes broke with Queens. He defends
> "suited"('This hotel is so far away from binion's. This is going to
> suck.' 'Yeah but there are so many beautiful women here to look at,
> and none of them have perms or tattoos or spandex on.' 'Yeah, you're
> right, the Mirage is suited.') and everything that is completely mind
> bogglingly crazy to us is "loose aggressive" ('Jesus I didn't realize
> there were this many beautiful women in America, let alone in one
> state.' 'Yeah, when it comes to chicks, Nevada is loose aggressive.')