kidZee's BARGE report
Michael Zimmers
As everyone knows, I've been involved with this BARGE for several
months now. Actually, the planning began the week after BARGE '95,
but didn't get kicked into full gear till March or so. At times,
it seemed like the date would NEVER get here, but finally, the hour
was at hand.
Wednesday, 31 July 1996, ~1PM. Board a SWA flight from San Jose to
Las Vegas for what promises to be 96 hours of heat and good times.
Arrive in Vegas and am greeted by a driver from Binion's Horseshoe.
Hey, organizing this thing has some perks after all (as it turns
out, more than I'd expected). Get to the Horseshoe about 3 and spend
some time with Jim Albrecht, Gwen Sloat and Mary Winter (all Horseshoe
managers) finalizing the details for BARGE. Pop over to the Rio about
5 PM.
THE SMOKER
For two years now, we've had our dinner smoker at the Fiore in the Rio.
Normally I'm in and out of just about any restaurant in 45 minutes or
less, but somehow, the atmosphere and company at the Fiore allow me to
remain seated for 4 1/2 hours without getting antsy. Eleven of us enjoy
truly superb cuisine and cigars before the betting begins on the size
of the final bill. Nolan Dalla sets the over/under at $700 and lays
2:1 taking the over. I take $5 of this action and lose when the bill
comes to about $750. Not cheap, but how many places can you have prime
rib of buffalo? All during dinner, I bore Bruce Kramer with all kinds
of cigar trivia, and he's kind enough to buy me a lovely Tony Borhani
lonsdale. Thanks, Bruce.
After dinner, I join Martin Veneroso for a few hands of $1 pan at
Union Plaza. I make a few good hands and am up a stack (that's how
pan players measure their progress -- by stacks), when I see Martin
pick up a great hand to my left, then totally misplay it, only to
pluck a *perfect* card on his next turn to pull a pony from a pile
of poo-poo. Even though I'm not in the hand and won't lose any money,
this is enough to tilt me, so I pick up and split, shaking my head.
Time for nite-nite anyway, since tomorrow I fry.
THE GOLF
Thursday morning, I join four other out-of-their-minds golfers on a
trip to the Las Vegas Country Club. Incredibly enough, this is the
first regulation round of golf I've played all year, and the weather
(110 degrees and rising) isn't going to help. As could be expected,
my game is awfully rough around the edges, but I do manage to keep
my score below the temperature, and I suck out on Kevan Garrett on
the 18th hole by sinking an off-the-green putt. Cha-ching! Send it,
Kevan, and thanks for organizing what was a fun yet exhausting
experience.
Bill Turner drives me from the golf course to the Mirage, where the
buffet is to begin within an hour. I'm told by the lady running the
buffet that the Mirage doesn't accept cashier's checks for the buffets.
DOH! A bit of "encouraging" on my part persuades them that this isn't
really a necessary policy, and all gets off OK.
After dinner, we have the video poker tournament. I'm not in the
tournament, but I watch as Andy Bloch quads his way to victory over
39 other players. Congratulations, Andy.
THE POT-LIMIT GAME
After VP, I'm hanging out in the poker room when I'm goaded into
the 1-2-5/5-to-go pot limit game. This game is filled with BARGErs,
several of whom have been quaffing potions steadily and are playing
with *raging* aggressiveness. To make matters dicier, I'm seated to
the immediate left of Terry Parker, who is playing the steadiest game
at the table. Throw in the fact that this is my first real pot-limit
experience, and I'm feeling juuuust a bit tentative. About 40 minutes
go by, when I find QQ on the big blind. Steve Landrum raises the pot
from late position, I pot it, and he puts me all in. He turns over AK,
the coin comes up tails, and I double through to about $400. The very
next hand comes the sort of situation one dreams of: AA against
someone else's KK. The someone else in this instance was Peter Secor,
seated 2 to my right. I get Peter all-in before the flop for about a
$500 pot and am counting my dough when the flop brings a K and Peter
takes it down. DOH. KidZee makes a mental note not to hope for AA in
the tournament. I play for another couple of hours, win a few medium
pots, and clear about $250. Not bad for my first effort. I never did
get another chance to play, even though the game raged all weekend
and created a noisier and more jovial atmosphere than is typically
seen in the Horseshoe poker room.
Friday AM is the blackjack tournament. I get off to a good start and
advance to the second round, holding off Rebecca Richfield's late surge
by some T60 max. At the second table, I get nothing whatsoever, losing
six or seven hands in a row and being the first to bust. Oh well, I
don't go to BARGE to win the tournaments, do I? Slick, Fich and I
get something to eat in the coffee shop as Steve Jacobs rolls to
victory. Way to be, Steve -- good to see you in the winner's circle
again.
THE CALCUTTA
Friday evening we have the Calcutta auction. Before I get started
with the auction, Kim Scheinberg addresses the room and presents
Frank Irwin, Chuck Weinstock and me with some gifts in recognition
for our participation in BARGE organization. I'm presented with a
a conmemmorative BARGE paperweight, a beautiful personal cigar
humidor and several ultra-premium cigars that Jeff Woods somehow
managed to get past customs police. I truly had no idea this
was coming (Kim told me her father smokes cigars and being he's from
New York and a card player it sure seemed to fit), and was genuinely
touched by the group's generosity and thoughtfulness. Thanks, everyone -
BARGE is definitely a labor of love, but it's nice to be remembered.
Once the auction is ready to start, the room quickly divides
up into several coalitions, including the prospectus contras,
the Tiltboys, Renee's team and the r00lerz. I con Bozo and Fich, as
well as the lovely and talented Carol Lembcke, into helping me with
the logistics, and we run up about $6500 in Calcutta money. Amazingly,
we get through 150 players in about 2 1/2 hours. Thanks for the help,
guys -- I literally couldn't have done it without you. Kim Scheinberg
pays a premium of $70 for me and I make a mental note to chide her
for her poor choice later. Somehow, I never get around to this...
After the Calcutta, I play a bit of 4/8 HORSE at the 'Shoe. The game
is in the hi-only stud phase, which bores me a bit, so after I suck
out on Jazbo, I let Sweetone (her IRC handle) play my chips for awhile.
After a bit of that, I pick up and head for bed, since tomorrow
morning is our signature event, namely...
THE POKER TOURNAMENT
I've already seen the seating assignments, and I'm thoroughly displeased
with the tiger cage I've drawn. Michael Maurer, Bruce Hayek, Jim
Feldhouse, and Bozo are all players with whom I'm familiar and don't
look forward to the prospects of having to go through them. Then I
discover that one of the named players is a cancellation and his spot
is being taken by Mike Caro. Strike two. Finally, another player no-
shows and his seat is taken by alternate Mike McClain. KidZee, you've
just struck out. Toss in the fact that the other players at my table,
who I didn't personally know, are also tough to a man, and this is
not exactly the easy path to the final table.
I got off to a reasonable start, but faded badly in the middle stages
of the tournament. I was getting perilously close to the felt when
within 10 minutes, I twice picked up pocket 3s and got all-in before
the flop. Both timesI made sets against better hands and tripled
through, to take me from near-oblivion to temporary comfort. Eventually
I got high-carded off my table and went to what became the final table.
Here I went through a truly non-r00ling run of dismal cards and wait
for what seems like an eternity for us to break enough players between
the two remaining tables to form a final table. Finally, the final
table forms, but as I'm quietly congratulating myself for getting this
far, I <again> discover I'm short-stack boy, but by now, I'm so used to
it, it doesn't really bother me anymore.
Once the action begins, I'm encouraged by the velocity of chips on the
table. It occurs to me that my only chance is to intercept some of the
money that's flying around, and I've got barely enough to keep people
from trying to run over me. I pick off Maurer's attempted bluff, but
only by rivering a flush after his rags turned to trips. Boom: we're
eight-handed. A bit later, I get my third (and final) major break of
the tournament (and bust out a Tiltboy in the process). In early
position, I put in a big raise with KQ, only to have Rafe reraise me
from the blind. I call and the flop comes A-x-x. Rafe bets all-in,
but something tells me that he likes that ace even less than I did.
After giving it some thought, I realize that Rafe is plenty creative
enough a player to bet here without an ace, and besides, we've gotten
so much money into the pot that I can't lay it down, so I make a fishy
call. Rafe nods his head in resignation, turning over QQ, only to
brighten up considerably when I turn up my KQ. Because I'm in seat 9,
the dealer's right arm obscures the board so I'm about the last one
to see it, but a roar from the crowd on the river tells me I've pulled
a major Hoover imitation. Indeed, my three-outer hit and I bust Rafe.
For the first time all day, I'm starting to think I can win this. One
of the [few] benefits of having been a prop player is that my short-
handed game is infinitely better than it used to be, and I'd like to
believe is one of my relative strengths.
We're now five-handed, and Keith Bronson busts out shortly later.
Someone at the table suggests a deal, but I'm hungry (not having eaten
all day), tired and cranky, so I say let's play. Lenny Augustine goes
next in 4th place, and Steve Smith again suggests a deal. I'm not
willing to go for what David Croson wants, so we continue to play.
From the button, Steve jams with a suited king, I call with a fat ace,
and my overcard takes him out. Once heads-up, I move into full-aggression
mode against David Croson, who has played steadily all day. I do my
best to wear him down and discourage him, and finally get him all-in with
a fat ace (again) against his two high cards. The board does nothing for
either of us and the tournament is over.
The crowd erupts, Jim Albrecht's camera goes off, and I feel like a one-
ton weight has been removed from my back. The feeling of victory is
almost indescribable. Sure, it's just a convention tournament and small
potatoes compared to the big boys, but I have plenty of respect for
my competition and consider besting them to be a big accomplishment,
definitely the high point of my poker career. Even more meaningful to me
than the victory, however, was the sincere and genuine happiness that so
many other BARGErs had for me. I've congratulated many a tournament
winner in the past, but there was always a part of me that was just a
bit jealous. I made a mental note to try to be as happy for other
winners as everyone seemed to be for me.
What a feeling.
THE BANQUET
Oh, well, so no BARGE trip is perfect.
Guys, I'm really sorry that this turned out to be such a fiasco. The last
time I was in Yolie's, it was as quiet as a tomb, but the reason for that
was probably that Martin Veneroso and I were about the only customers in
there at the time. I had no idea that the acoustics would be so poor.
After a brief attempt to have our guest speaker Mike Caro address the
gathering, it became evident that he just couldn't be heard over the
noise from the other patrons. All was not lost, however, as the ever-
resourceful Mr. Caro led the group to the outside balcony and addressed
us by the moonlight. As annoyed as I was by the total disaster indoors,
I had to admit there was something really appropriate about seeing the
Mad Genius on a rooftop at nighttime, sort of like a poker-talking
leprachaun.
In the future, we will hold all speaker events in private rooms. Again I
apologize to all those who (like me) were expecting something more from
this event.
OVERALL
If the measure of how good a vacation is how quickly time passes, then
BARGE must be as good as it gets. The four days were positively a blur.
I'm happy for the time I got to spend with friends, old and new, and wish
there had been more time to catch up with other people. I'm thrilled to
be part of the BARGE group, very proud of what we've become, and I look
forward to many more successful and enjoyable events in the future. Presto!
mz
--
Michael Zimmers
SoftHelp -- Solutions for Open Systems
Voice: 408 996 1965
Fax: 408 996 1974