To close up the Vegas trip reports, I thought I'd go over the most unusual hand of the trip for your, my faithful reader's, enjoyment. My opinion of my own play here is suspect at best, but the hand was interesting to me on a certain level mainly because of how non-standard everyone's play was. Even my own.
It's post-blogger tourney time at the Venetian and I'm sitting at a 1/2NL table into the game for $300. I have a bit over $200 still in front when I'm dealt pocket Queens under the gun. So far, so good; it's an easy standard raise to $12. I got one caller in middle position and then the button, a bit to my dismay, re-raised.
Re-raises at Vegas 1/2 games are rare. They are very much indicative of two hands: AA and KK. But most times, the raise is a significant one where in you can really tell the strength of the re-raiser's hand. In this case, though, the button made it only $25. This is what I term mistake #1. Of course, I'm going to call and so will the middle position player.
Three to the flop: T44. I checked, at this point, almost ready to give up my hand to be honest. But let's see how the action went. The middle position player led the flop for $15 into a $78 pot. That's rather ridiculous in my opinion and shall be referred to as mistake #2. This is only a mistake however if he's not holding a 4. But this guy was a confirmed moron from watching his previous play, so I felt confident that he had perhaps a ten at best.
Now, here's where the complexion of the hand changed for me. The button raised. But it was a min-raise to $30. If I'm holding KK there in that spot, it's a horrible raise. You had two people call your pre-flop re-raise, so someone is conceivably holding Ace-X. You can't min-raise there, at least I don't think so.
I decided that I couldn't fold just yet, so I called. The middle position player called as well. I immediately took him off having a four. The turn was a nine and the action went once again, check-check.
The button then decided he's had enough, and moved all-in for $124. The pot was $168 at this point. I looked at the guy (because, hey, live tells rule) and asked him, "How big?" meaning how big was his pocket pair.
The dealer admonished me saying, "Sir, there's still a player left to act, you can't talk about the hand in play."
I responded with, "Yeah, but he's folding anyway." I was, of course right, but I did lean on the rules a bit with my table talk. But I got the answer I was looking for. THE tell. It's a tell I've seen just often enough and a tell that's been just reliable enough for me to make the decision to call.
Granted, I've played my hand horribly, never at any point announcing its strength. But my initial pre-flop range for the button really only included AA and KK, and then three things when added up together made me call.
1. His min-raise on the flop lead out from the guy in middle position. I took the button off KK right there.
2. The tell. It really is that reliable. It's one I'm almost going to keep to the grave because it's so good and has earned me so much money in a live environment.
3. The reality of the situation was that I was at a 1/2NL table in Vegas. Are you laying down QQ on a T449 board?
As predicted, after I called, the player in middle position folded. A harmless looking 2 hit the river. I had called my opponent, but he wasn't very eager to show his hand. I said to him, "Pocket Queens," in a meek, questioning way. He winced at the sight of them and tabled his hand. I had won.
Very unusually played hand on my part. One may even say poorly played. But it was one of my better "aggressive*" calls made on that Saturday to win back my blogger tournament entry fee and get my mood in a better place.
Anyone care to guess my opponents hand?
* 2+2 joke
Monday, December 31, 2007
Thursday, December 27, 2007
The Alpha and The Omega
Over a year and a half ago, The Procedure was born.
One of the goals of this past Vegas trip was to replicate it. Pauly wrote about his participation and now I must do the same. Part of me feels that it may be time to retire The Procedure; what better way to do so than to do it one last time in Vegas?
****
The plan was simple. We'd use the blogger tournament on Saturday as the final piece of the puzzle. The tourney began at 3pm, and in theory, that would provide ample time to complete the Procedure if we started around noon. As of late Friday night, the question remained, who would participate?
In G-Vegas, there have been many to say, "Hey, I'm in for The Procedure, let me know the next time you plan on doing it." Inevitably, when I do let them know, there's some excuse given as to why they can't make it or my calls are simply not returned.
Of course, there's always one exception.
Many of you know this exception simply as "The Mark." He's the only G-Vegas veteran to complete a Procedure with me. It would be a given that he'd join me in Vegas.
****
It was 11:15 AM as I exited Tower One at Excalibur. I grabbed a danish and some horrible coffee from the stand by the elevators and sat down in front of a slot machine to eat in private. I was tired, having stayed up until 4am playing shove-on-any-draw poker with people happy to put in their stacks with top-pair, 9 kicker. If I couldn't catch any luck at the card tables that day, I told myself I'd make up for it the next.
After "breakfast," I felt that the most appropriate place to begin the Vegas Procedure was the Sherwood Forest Bar. I moseyed on up, slapped a $100 bill into the video poker machine and began phase one: Drinking.
I can't say that the vodka was Grey Goose, but I can say that the martini's were dirty. All four of them. I called TheMark to let him know I got started a bit early. He didn't answer and I had to leave a message, fearing that I'd be Proceduring Solo. Really, I should have known better.
****
I texted Pauly that I was knee deep in 2's wild video poker and martini's. He had only a 3-word reply, "On my way."
Apparently, Grubby was going to meet us after he completed his Craps Tournament at Bally's. The man does have priorities.
One of my personal quirks with respect to The Procedure is the fact that I simply cannot progress to Step 2 without being sufficiently inebriated. When Pauly arrived, I kept drinking as we shot the shit for a while, getting more and more lubricated. Finally, after noticing he wasn't having any alcohol delivered to his blood stream, I asked him, "Hey, do you need a drink?"
"Dude...." he began, "I'm already high."
****
Grubby had rented a car and because he is a former full-time resident of Las Vegas, knew the quickest route to Step 2. There was some debate as to where we should go, because one of the rules of The Procedure is that Step 2 requires attendance during "The Afternoon Shift."
Grubby had heard conflicting reports of what was best during the noon time frame. Pauly recommended the Rhino, Grubby a place called Seamless. We agreed that we'd try Seamless first and leave the Rhino as backup.
We drove up, had valet take the car, walked in, took a piss, and then walked right out. It was that bad. All IT geeks know that having proper backup is of critical importance. So is it true with Step 2 of The Procedure.
Off to the Rhino.
****
Having driven to the Rhino, we were able to bypass the $30 cover charge. The free pass may have also had something to do with the fact that nobody was in there, except for us three total degenerates. We made our way to a table and a waitress took our drink order. Almost immediately, three employees went in for the kill.
There are poker bad beats, and there are strip club bad beats. Of the three that had made their way over, the worst looking of the three chose me. Pauly had some classic busty blonde on his lap, while Grubby partnered with a short, curvy Latin dancer. Me? A girl with a lisp named Ruby. Awesome.
Strip club small talk is always entertaining to me. I take on the role of hot air balloon pilot. I'm relatively confident that my story is well enough fabricated to make even the smartest stripper believe my tall tales. When I'm with a friend, I tell them that we're in town for a conference and he's a materials expert. Yeah, that's right. I got game.
****
Because there were simply no other choices, I had to partake in a 3-song experience with Ruby, the Cindy Brady speak-alike. It really wasn't half bad. I did however get interrupted by the vibration of my cell phone during song number 2. I politely excused myself to take the call. On the surface, this sounds like a really silly thing to do while receiving a dance. But I knew who the caller would be.
"Yo! Where are you guys???? I'm walking into the VIP area right now!!!!"
The unmistakable voice of TheMark echoed throughout the Rhino VIP area. Normally, one needs a companion to get through the door separating the bar area from the dance area. Not Mark. He climbed the stairs to the higher level and gazed around, finally seeing me, Pauly and Grubby.
"I'll meet you back out at the bar," I replied. Dancus interruptus.
****
After the four of us had our wallets lightened ever so slightly, we drove to the Venetian for the blogger tournament and Step 3 of The Procedure, the Poker. My blogger tournament experience was all too memorable and all too short. I had aces once on the button, I raised and won the blinds.
The second hand that I played, was a blind defense to a cut-off raise from John "Shecky" Caldwell. I had J8h and when I called the raise, Shecky stared at me to measure my reaction to the flop cards. I knew what he was doing, so rather than give him any information, I stared directly back and checked without looking.
He looked and then made a continuation bet of standard size. When I finally looked at the flop, I saw J82 rainbow. At this point, I was quite confident I was way ahead, so I raised his bet by 3x. He stared back at me, probing my soul with Hellmuthian accuracy. Something in the way I looked back at him made him feel that I was simply making a play on a flop that could have easily missed him. He re-raised. I pushed. He called.
He flipped over JTc. There was one club on the board, until the turn and river made three.
That beat hurt. It hurt bad. Prior to the tournament, I was half-way in the zone between wanting to do really well and simply playing for the chance to hang out with some bloggers I'd not seen prior to that day. The runner-runner bad beat put an end to both of those chances and I had to walk off some of my bitterness outside by the canals surrounding the casino.
****
I had completed The Procedure but was left somewhat unsatisfied.
There is no doubt that the best part was hanging with Pauly, Grubby, and eventually TheMark. Deep down I realized that I didn't need Steps 2 and 3 to have a good time with good people. Time will tell if that Vegas Procedure was the last one or just the last one until the next one.
One of the goals of this past Vegas trip was to replicate it. Pauly wrote about his participation and now I must do the same. Part of me feels that it may be time to retire The Procedure; what better way to do so than to do it one last time in Vegas?
****
The plan was simple. We'd use the blogger tournament on Saturday as the final piece of the puzzle. The tourney began at 3pm, and in theory, that would provide ample time to complete the Procedure if we started around noon. As of late Friday night, the question remained, who would participate?
In G-Vegas, there have been many to say, "Hey, I'm in for The Procedure, let me know the next time you plan on doing it." Inevitably, when I do let them know, there's some excuse given as to why they can't make it or my calls are simply not returned.
Of course, there's always one exception.
Many of you know this exception simply as "The Mark." He's the only G-Vegas veteran to complete a Procedure with me. It would be a given that he'd join me in Vegas.
****
It was 11:15 AM as I exited Tower One at Excalibur. I grabbed a danish and some horrible coffee from the stand by the elevators and sat down in front of a slot machine to eat in private. I was tired, having stayed up until 4am playing shove-on-any-draw poker with people happy to put in their stacks with top-pair, 9 kicker. If I couldn't catch any luck at the card tables that day, I told myself I'd make up for it the next.
After "breakfast," I felt that the most appropriate place to begin the Vegas Procedure was the Sherwood Forest Bar. I moseyed on up, slapped a $100 bill into the video poker machine and began phase one: Drinking.
I can't say that the vodka was Grey Goose, but I can say that the martini's were dirty. All four of them. I called TheMark to let him know I got started a bit early. He didn't answer and I had to leave a message, fearing that I'd be Proceduring Solo. Really, I should have known better.
****
I texted Pauly that I was knee deep in 2's wild video poker and martini's. He had only a 3-word reply, "On my way."
Apparently, Grubby was going to meet us after he completed his Craps Tournament at Bally's. The man does have priorities.
One of my personal quirks with respect to The Procedure is the fact that I simply cannot progress to Step 2 without being sufficiently inebriated. When Pauly arrived, I kept drinking as we shot the shit for a while, getting more and more lubricated. Finally, after noticing he wasn't having any alcohol delivered to his blood stream, I asked him, "Hey, do you need a drink?"
"Dude...." he began, "I'm already high."
****
Grubby had rented a car and because he is a former full-time resident of Las Vegas, knew the quickest route to Step 2. There was some debate as to where we should go, because one of the rules of The Procedure is that Step 2 requires attendance during "The Afternoon Shift."
Grubby had heard conflicting reports of what was best during the noon time frame. Pauly recommended the Rhino, Grubby a place called Seamless. We agreed that we'd try Seamless first and leave the Rhino as backup.
We drove up, had valet take the car, walked in, took a piss, and then walked right out. It was that bad. All IT geeks know that having proper backup is of critical importance. So is it true with Step 2 of The Procedure.
Off to the Rhino.
****
Having driven to the Rhino, we were able to bypass the $30 cover charge. The free pass may have also had something to do with the fact that nobody was in there, except for us three total degenerates. We made our way to a table and a waitress took our drink order. Almost immediately, three employees went in for the kill.
There are poker bad beats, and there are strip club bad beats. Of the three that had made their way over, the worst looking of the three chose me. Pauly had some classic busty blonde on his lap, while Grubby partnered with a short, curvy Latin dancer. Me? A girl with a lisp named Ruby. Awesome.
Strip club small talk is always entertaining to me. I take on the role of hot air balloon pilot. I'm relatively confident that my story is well enough fabricated to make even the smartest stripper believe my tall tales. When I'm with a friend, I tell them that we're in town for a conference and he's a materials expert. Yeah, that's right. I got game.
****
Because there were simply no other choices, I had to partake in a 3-song experience with Ruby, the Cindy Brady speak-alike. It really wasn't half bad. I did however get interrupted by the vibration of my cell phone during song number 2. I politely excused myself to take the call. On the surface, this sounds like a really silly thing to do while receiving a dance. But I knew who the caller would be.
"Yo! Where are you guys???? I'm walking into the VIP area right now!!!!"
The unmistakable voice of TheMark echoed throughout the Rhino VIP area. Normally, one needs a companion to get through the door separating the bar area from the dance area. Not Mark. He climbed the stairs to the higher level and gazed around, finally seeing me, Pauly and Grubby.
"I'll meet you back out at the bar," I replied. Dancus interruptus.
****
After the four of us had our wallets lightened ever so slightly, we drove to the Venetian for the blogger tournament and Step 3 of The Procedure, the Poker. My blogger tournament experience was all too memorable and all too short. I had aces once on the button, I raised and won the blinds.
The second hand that I played, was a blind defense to a cut-off raise from John "Shecky" Caldwell. I had J8h and when I called the raise, Shecky stared at me to measure my reaction to the flop cards. I knew what he was doing, so rather than give him any information, I stared directly back and checked without looking.
He looked and then made a continuation bet of standard size. When I finally looked at the flop, I saw J82 rainbow. At this point, I was quite confident I was way ahead, so I raised his bet by 3x. He stared back at me, probing my soul with Hellmuthian accuracy. Something in the way I looked back at him made him feel that I was simply making a play on a flop that could have easily missed him. He re-raised. I pushed. He called.
He flipped over JTc. There was one club on the board, until the turn and river made three.
That beat hurt. It hurt bad. Prior to the tournament, I was half-way in the zone between wanting to do really well and simply playing for the chance to hang out with some bloggers I'd not seen prior to that day. The runner-runner bad beat put an end to both of those chances and I had to walk off some of my bitterness outside by the canals surrounding the casino.
****
I had completed The Procedure but was left somewhat unsatisfied.
There is no doubt that the best part was hanging with Pauly, Grubby, and eventually TheMark. Deep down I realized that I didn't need Steps 2 and 3 to have a good time with good people. Time will tell if that Vegas Procedure was the last one or just the last one until the next one.
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Happy Holidays
Finally, I can play Guitar Hero III with my kids. He's obviously mastered the Jeff Healy mode of playing. Hope everyone's holiday was as great as mine. If life continues to let me suck out every hand, how can I ever complain about poker?
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Small Notice
Several people have surprised me this year in asking, "Hey, you going to run a New Year's Day tournament this year?"
Since I've done so for the past three years, I feel obligated to continue.
So, the 4th annual BadBlood New Year's Day Tournament is officially on. Email to my mailing list will go out shortly.
The location will be my house, as always; and I'm thinking about a 2pm start time so that the massively hung over will have a shot at waking in time.
Last year's buy-in was $60, so we'll probably go with that again.
One last caveat: I have room for 3 tables. You MUST reply to my email to reserve a seat. If you've never received a poker-related email from me before, you're probably not on my list. If you wish to get on, drop me a line at my gmail address.
That is all. More trip reports forthcoming.
Since I've done so for the past three years, I feel obligated to continue.
So, the 4th annual BadBlood New Year's Day Tournament is officially on. Email to my mailing list will go out shortly.
The location will be my house, as always; and I'm thinking about a 2pm start time so that the massively hung over will have a shot at waking in time.
Last year's buy-in was $60, so we'll probably go with that again.
One last caveat: I have room for 3 tables. You MUST reply to my email to reserve a seat. If you've never received a poker-related email from me before, you're probably not on my list. If you wish to get on, drop me a line at my gmail address.
That is all. More trip reports forthcoming.
Four of Many
Before continuing the trip report into Friday's escapades, I wanted to throw out a special thanks to the Poker Peaker. Thursday in Vegas would be the first time I'd get to meet a fellow metal head, poker blogger. We're few and far between. He let me borrow his USB thumb drive and I gave him a CD-R so that we could exchange some songs that we thought the other might enjoy. Otis put the songs on his laptop, and I've yet to retrieve them, but will do so shortly. Our tastes seem eerily similar so hopefully I had a chance to introduce him to something new and worthwhile.
Friday in Vegas would be my only losing day poker-wise. Unfortunately for me, the winning days were too small to make up for it. Nothing really memorable happened, and that was fine with me. The focus of that day for me was 100% on dinner. Otis made reservations at some place called Nobhill.
Fine dining experiences are rare for me. I'm a meat andpotatoes more meat kind of guy. Food is mainly a method for protein ingestion and when I saw the menu I was pleased to see the words Filet and Angus. How could I go wrong?
For my appetizer, I had this:
Charcuterie Board
Select Meats, Grilled Sausages, Marinated Olives, North Beach Focaccia
When it was presented to me, it felt as if I had just stood on my chair and exclaimed, "Bring me your finest meats and cheeses!" Because they did. I shared some with BG who's somewhat of a food aficionado and knows how to translate the fancy-schmancy stuff on the menu into layman's terms.
For my main course, I had this:
Filet of Angus Beef 'Rossini'
Seared Foie Gras, Shallot-Potato Cakes, Pinot Noir Reduction
I had to ask what this Fo-ee Grass thing was. Apparently, it's some kind of goose liver. I figured what the hell, I'll eat it. I had learned from watching the show Manswers that the liver is the best organ to eat if you need to cannibalize a dead friend with whom you've been stranded on a desert island. It's the organ with the most stored nutrients. And because geese are pretty much exactly like humans, I figured I'd be downing some pretty damn good nutrients with my Filet. My cholesterol did temporarily sky rocket, but I figured I could compensate later with some oatmeal or something.
In all seriousness, this was the best meal I'd ever had in my life. If it wasn't such bad manners to lick the plate clean I probably would have. What made it even better was the company. Who would have thought that three years after meeting these fine folks at the Sherwood Forest bar that I'd be substituting an $18 glass of Pinot Noir for a round of Soco shots.
An honest, heartfelt thanks to BG, Iggy, Maudie, Derek, Pauly, Change, Al, Otis, Jeff and Marty for what was truly the best 3 hours of my trip.
Friday in Vegas would be my only losing day poker-wise. Unfortunately for me, the winning days were too small to make up for it. Nothing really memorable happened, and that was fine with me. The focus of that day for me was 100% on dinner. Otis made reservations at some place called Nobhill.
Fine dining experiences are rare for me. I'm a meat and
For my appetizer, I had this:
Charcuterie Board
Select Meats, Grilled Sausages, Marinated Olives, North Beach Focaccia
When it was presented to me, it felt as if I had just stood on my chair and exclaimed, "Bring me your finest meats and cheeses!" Because they did. I shared some with BG who's somewhat of a food aficionado and knows how to translate the fancy-schmancy stuff on the menu into layman's terms.
For my main course, I had this:
Filet of Angus Beef 'Rossini'
Seared Foie Gras, Shallot-Potato Cakes, Pinot Noir Reduction
I had to ask what this Fo-ee Grass thing was. Apparently, it's some kind of goose liver. I figured what the hell, I'll eat it. I had learned from watching the show Manswers that the liver is the best organ to eat if you need to cannibalize a dead friend with whom you've been stranded on a desert island. It's the organ with the most stored nutrients. And because geese are pretty much exactly like humans, I figured I'd be downing some pretty damn good nutrients with my Filet. My cholesterol did temporarily sky rocket, but I figured I could compensate later with some oatmeal or something.
In all seriousness, this was the best meal I'd ever had in my life. If it wasn't such bad manners to lick the plate clean I probably would have. What made it even better was the company. Who would have thought that three years after meeting these fine folks at the Sherwood Forest bar that I'd be substituting an $18 glass of Pinot Noir for a round of Soco shots.
An honest, heartfelt thanks to BG, Iggy, Maudie, Derek, Pauly, Change, Al, Otis, Jeff and Marty for what was truly the best 3 hours of my trip.
Monday, December 17, 2007
Three of Many
After I busted out of the Caesar's 3pm tourney, I found myself in a quick hole. My trip had just begun and already I was down close to $300. That was certainly not the way I envisioned things happening. I needed a quick pick me upper. Nothing does that better than a quick call home to the family.
I sat alone at an unoccupied table in the poker room and dialed home. It was near bed time on the East coast and simply hearing the voices of the mini's was enough to at least set things in motion for my recovery. Slightly buoyed, I rebought into a cash game.
I had raised earlier with 53s and won a hand on the turn when Otis folded to my bet. I showed the table my hand. Normally, I'm not much of an advertiser, but at this table, I figured what the hell. I wouldn't be there long.
Not much later, I found pocket Aces. This is the hand where my ad campaign would hopefully pay off. As I was under the gun, I came in for a normal raise. The whole limp-re-raising fad had wound its course for me. If the flop was scary, I just may have to lay them down if I got several callers. I only got one caller. Not so bad. But wait, the big blind was thinking.
Is there anything better in poker than to get re-raised when you're holding the nuts? Probably not. The big blind made it $45 from my $12 initial raise. I made it $140. The caller folded. Hopefully, in the back of the big blind's mind, was the memory of me showing my 53s. My raise was equivalent to half his remaining stack. I put him into a push or fold decision.
He pushed.
My chips beat his into the pot and he tabled AK. The flop was King high and I did a silent LOL to myself. Amazingly, however, my aces held.
By the time Otis and Marty were ready to head out to the IP for drunken tomfoolery, I had managed to erase my losses for the day and basically walk the strip on an even keel - financially and emotionally. A righting of the ship if you will.
****
I'm really not a Pai Gow guy. Otis is. We all know that. And because he's a good friend and a fun guy to hang out with, I try my best to be a Pai Gow guy. But each time I try, I realize that I'm just not. So after I dropped my requisite $100 at the damn game (is a pair too much to ask for?), I ventured into parts unknown. Well, perhaps not unknown, maybe just abandoned.
Rewind a decade.
When I used to live in Massachusetts, I was part of a group that made monthly visits to Foxwoods. And it was all to play blackjack. We had our basic hi-lo counting system and thought that we could at least churn a small profit if we played long enough. Looking back, I'm not sure how much of an edge we really had. Our bet sizes weren't spread highly enough to take advantage of a 10-soaked deck. Still we tried. And on some nights failed miserably.
On my last Foxwoods trip before I moved down South, I dropped about $600 playing blackjack. Back then, I had no idea what tilt was, but looking back I sure as hell was on it. So much so, that I took a $300 cash advance on a credit card and made my way to a roulette table, in what was to be my first ever solo rage.
At that point in time, I had only my 9-month old daughter's birthday to bet on. So I did. Heavily. Three's and thirty's for $5 and $10 a pop.
Within 15 minutes, I'd hit those numbers four times. It was probably only twenty spins, but I dominated. I took a $700 profit and left Foxwoods an overall winner on that trip for what I thought would be the last time. I would later travel back North for more visits to Foxwoods, but during that time, I never returned to a roulette table. How could I get so lucky once again?
Back to the present. I took $100 and Maudie to the IP roulette wheel. The Pai Gow players were all shouting Pai Gow and questioning the entirety of the remaining hotel gambling crowd if they were having any fun. I figured I'd buck the trend and revisit past glory.
****
To be fair, I had been drinking. I also told the table before I placed any bets that they'd be wise to just match my numbers. Initially, nobody listened. This time, I had an additional number to play. Even though my son was born the same month as my daughter, his birthday is the luckiest thirteen I'll ever come across.
I laid $5 on 3,13, and 30. The dealer spun the ball. I didn't even look.
Bang. 3. Ship it! $175 and still, nobody believes me.
Two spins later. 30. Ship it again. Finally, people began to follow my bets. At least just a little. Someone, however, did not until it was too late.
Every time I hit, I yelled "Roulette!" Sure, I was obnoxious. But who else do you know that's quadrupled up at a roulette table? That's right. No one.
My kids birthdays plus a small bouncing ball equals profit. It's simple math.
I sat alone at an unoccupied table in the poker room and dialed home. It was near bed time on the East coast and simply hearing the voices of the mini's was enough to at least set things in motion for my recovery. Slightly buoyed, I rebought into a cash game.
I had raised earlier with 53s and won a hand on the turn when Otis folded to my bet. I showed the table my hand. Normally, I'm not much of an advertiser, but at this table, I figured what the hell. I wouldn't be there long.
Not much later, I found pocket Aces. This is the hand where my ad campaign would hopefully pay off. As I was under the gun, I came in for a normal raise. The whole limp-re-raising fad had wound its course for me. If the flop was scary, I just may have to lay them down if I got several callers. I only got one caller. Not so bad. But wait, the big blind was thinking.
Is there anything better in poker than to get re-raised when you're holding the nuts? Probably not. The big blind made it $45 from my $12 initial raise. I made it $140. The caller folded. Hopefully, in the back of the big blind's mind, was the memory of me showing my 53s. My raise was equivalent to half his remaining stack. I put him into a push or fold decision.
He pushed.
My chips beat his into the pot and he tabled AK. The flop was King high and I did a silent LOL to myself. Amazingly, however, my aces held.
By the time Otis and Marty were ready to head out to the IP for drunken tomfoolery, I had managed to erase my losses for the day and basically walk the strip on an even keel - financially and emotionally. A righting of the ship if you will.
****
I'm really not a Pai Gow guy. Otis is. We all know that. And because he's a good friend and a fun guy to hang out with, I try my best to be a Pai Gow guy. But each time I try, I realize that I'm just not. So after I dropped my requisite $100 at the damn game (is a pair too much to ask for?), I ventured into parts unknown. Well, perhaps not unknown, maybe just abandoned.
Rewind a decade.
When I used to live in Massachusetts, I was part of a group that made monthly visits to Foxwoods. And it was all to play blackjack. We had our basic hi-lo counting system and thought that we could at least churn a small profit if we played long enough. Looking back, I'm not sure how much of an edge we really had. Our bet sizes weren't spread highly enough to take advantage of a 10-soaked deck. Still we tried. And on some nights failed miserably.
On my last Foxwoods trip before I moved down South, I dropped about $600 playing blackjack. Back then, I had no idea what tilt was, but looking back I sure as hell was on it. So much so, that I took a $300 cash advance on a credit card and made my way to a roulette table, in what was to be my first ever solo rage.
At that point in time, I had only my 9-month old daughter's birthday to bet on. So I did. Heavily. Three's and thirty's for $5 and $10 a pop.
Within 15 minutes, I'd hit those numbers four times. It was probably only twenty spins, but I dominated. I took a $700 profit and left Foxwoods an overall winner on that trip for what I thought would be the last time. I would later travel back North for more visits to Foxwoods, but during that time, I never returned to a roulette table. How could I get so lucky once again?
Back to the present. I took $100 and Maudie to the IP roulette wheel. The Pai Gow players were all shouting Pai Gow and questioning the entirety of the remaining hotel gambling crowd if they were having any fun. I figured I'd buck the trend and revisit past glory.
****
To be fair, I had been drinking. I also told the table before I placed any bets that they'd be wise to just match my numbers. Initially, nobody listened. This time, I had an additional number to play. Even though my son was born the same month as my daughter, his birthday is the luckiest thirteen I'll ever come across.
I laid $5 on 3,13, and 30. The dealer spun the ball. I didn't even look.
Bang. 3. Ship it! $175 and still, nobody believes me.
Two spins later. 30. Ship it again. Finally, people began to follow my bets. At least just a little. Someone, however, did not until it was too late.
Every time I hit, I yelled "Roulette!" Sure, I was obnoxious. But who else do you know that's quadrupled up at a roulette table? That's right. No one.
My kids birthdays plus a small bouncing ball equals profit. It's simple math.
Friday, December 14, 2007
Two of Many
"That's the beauty of a 10:30 arrival," Otis said as we walked through a nearly vacant cab line outside McCarran. I was expecting a long line wrapped through the roped off area outside baggage claim, but nobody was there. "And, not checking our bags," he continued. I was foolish to expect anything different from a man who has spent over six weeks in this city. He knows his shit.
"Where to?" asked the cabbie.
Neither of us were enthusiastic about the answer, but to be honest, free hotel rooms in Vegas are still free no matter their reputation. And while our response certainly didn't harbor any subtle hints of luxury, it more than made up for it in nostalgia. Almost exactly three years prior, we broke our blogger gathering cherry together in one of the most memorable trips I'd ever taken. Was it foolish to try to recapture old glory? Maybe. But without at least a try, there would only be failure.
"Excalibur." This was Otis' FARCE (Free Ass Room Courtesy Excalibur), and I was certainly excited to be a part of it. Three straight trips to Vegas, three straight free hotel rooms. I think this time, I'd even get to sleep in a bed.
****
Dr. Jeff's arrival preceded us by a day, so there was no need to even check in. We convened at our room and relaxed for a few minutes while Otis took care of some work-related, semi tilt-inducing odds 'n ends. Once complete, our plan was hatched. Lunch at Planet Hollywood's PF Chang's and then off to Caesar's Palace for some cash games until the 3pm tourney.
The weather was crisp, but December in Vegas is deceptive. The sun can shine brightly enough during the day to make it seem like a welcoming warmth was graced upon your body for having the courage and discipline to venture outside of the casino walls. But at night, a chill fills the air such that any thoughts of enjoying an evening stroll are quickly dashed against the dry might of the desert breeze. Our walk to Planet Hollywood was a middle ground of sorts, the energy of our brisk pace countering the chill in the surrounding atmosphere.
****
There is no ride, like the dirty ride. It's a tradition morphed into requirement. If I'm about to play cards with Otis, then the pre-drink of choice is the Grey Goose dirty martini. Born in G-Vegas underground games, fine-tuned at home games, and finally perfected in Vegas proper, we toasted to our upcoming successes.
Dr. Jeff joined us with a Beefeaters replica. Clean. But he's a doctor.
****
The Caesar's poker room is one of the nicer ones in Vegas. The games are not overly juicy with tourists playing Ace rag out of position, but that's fine with me. The 1/3 game lets you buy in for $500 and the 2/5 game is uncapped. If you have skill, you have ammunition with which to use it. I walked near the table that held many memories for me, the table at which G-Rob and I busted several crazy Norwegians. This time, the table was quieter, filled with mid-morning players whose likelihood of pushing all in blind for $500 was non-existent.
Otis, Dr. Jeff and I sat down at a brand new table with six other players and the green flag signaling the beginning of our trip was waved. Shuffle up and deal.
****
The older gentlemen in seat 9 led the flop for $25. The board read 569 with two hearts. I was in position and had raised pre-flop with pocket Jacks. Folded to me, I had to let the gentlemen know that I did not simply have two overcards. I made it $75. Without much hesitation, he moved all in.
I hadn't even played ten hands yet at the table and now I'm facing a huge decision for all my chips. I believe my raise was effective in communicating the strength of my hand, but the older gentlemen either ignored it or felt that it didn't matter. After a few minutes in the tank, I folded.
"Only because it's so early in my trip, I folding," I said as I tabled my over pair face up.
"Well, since it's so early in your trip, I'll show you my hand too." He tabled 78 for the flopped nuts.
"Thank you sir, for that. Perhaps I can repay you in kind some time." I was sincere. He didn't have to show me his hand, he could have made me wonder. I made a good fold I guess and while I felt good about not losing my stack, I felt like this would potentially be harbinger of things to come.
"I hate running into the nuts."
****
Everyone's interpretation of the nuts is different. The strict interpretation is the best possible hand at the time given the texture of the board. Pre-flop, it's easy. Pocket Aces. They're the nuts. But like I said, everyone's interpretation is different.
Mid-way through the 3pm tourney, we'd migrated to crapshoot mode. The blinds were 200/400/50 and it was only level 4. My starting stack of 2500 had nearly doubled to 4700, but even that was to be steadily eaten away by the 1050 chips required to play an orbit. I know the Harrington requirements pretty well. My M was less than 5. It was then that I found AKd and was first to act. Easy play, easy result. I push, everyone folds, my stack is now 5700, an above average one at that with around 25 players left.
On the very next hand I found pocket tens. Again, easy decision. I push. But not everyone folds. The man who would go on to win the tourney found two cards that must have appeared to be the nuts. He found a way to call off 95% of his chips with KQ. Off suit. Ugh.
Now, to be fair, this person was quite a gentlemen. I liked him and after he flopped his Queen, I genuinely wished him luck the rest of the way. If he could use my chips to win the damn thing, then that would be great. I hate his call of course, but what can you do.
The nuts is the nuts.
"Where to?" asked the cabbie.
Neither of us were enthusiastic about the answer, but to be honest, free hotel rooms in Vegas are still free no matter their reputation. And while our response certainly didn't harbor any subtle hints of luxury, it more than made up for it in nostalgia. Almost exactly three years prior, we broke our blogger gathering cherry together in one of the most memorable trips I'd ever taken. Was it foolish to try to recapture old glory? Maybe. But without at least a try, there would only be failure.
"Excalibur." This was Otis' FARCE (Free Ass Room Courtesy Excalibur), and I was certainly excited to be a part of it. Three straight trips to Vegas, three straight free hotel rooms. I think this time, I'd even get to sleep in a bed.
****
Dr. Jeff's arrival preceded us by a day, so there was no need to even check in. We convened at our room and relaxed for a few minutes while Otis took care of some work-related, semi tilt-inducing odds 'n ends. Once complete, our plan was hatched. Lunch at Planet Hollywood's PF Chang's and then off to Caesar's Palace for some cash games until the 3pm tourney.
The weather was crisp, but December in Vegas is deceptive. The sun can shine brightly enough during the day to make it seem like a welcoming warmth was graced upon your body for having the courage and discipline to venture outside of the casino walls. But at night, a chill fills the air such that any thoughts of enjoying an evening stroll are quickly dashed against the dry might of the desert breeze. Our walk to Planet Hollywood was a middle ground of sorts, the energy of our brisk pace countering the chill in the surrounding atmosphere.
****
There is no ride, like the dirty ride. It's a tradition morphed into requirement. If I'm about to play cards with Otis, then the pre-drink of choice is the Grey Goose dirty martini. Born in G-Vegas underground games, fine-tuned at home games, and finally perfected in Vegas proper, we toasted to our upcoming successes.
Dr. Jeff joined us with a Beefeaters replica. Clean. But he's a doctor.
****
The Caesar's poker room is one of the nicer ones in Vegas. The games are not overly juicy with tourists playing Ace rag out of position, but that's fine with me. The 1/3 game lets you buy in for $500 and the 2/5 game is uncapped. If you have skill, you have ammunition with which to use it. I walked near the table that held many memories for me, the table at which G-Rob and I busted several crazy Norwegians. This time, the table was quieter, filled with mid-morning players whose likelihood of pushing all in blind for $500 was non-existent.
Otis, Dr. Jeff and I sat down at a brand new table with six other players and the green flag signaling the beginning of our trip was waved. Shuffle up and deal.
****
The older gentlemen in seat 9 led the flop for $25. The board read 569 with two hearts. I was in position and had raised pre-flop with pocket Jacks. Folded to me, I had to let the gentlemen know that I did not simply have two overcards. I made it $75. Without much hesitation, he moved all in.
I hadn't even played ten hands yet at the table and now I'm facing a huge decision for all my chips. I believe my raise was effective in communicating the strength of my hand, but the older gentlemen either ignored it or felt that it didn't matter. After a few minutes in the tank, I folded.
"Only because it's so early in my trip, I folding," I said as I tabled my over pair face up.
"Well, since it's so early in your trip, I'll show you my hand too." He tabled 78 for the flopped nuts.
"Thank you sir, for that. Perhaps I can repay you in kind some time." I was sincere. He didn't have to show me his hand, he could have made me wonder. I made a good fold I guess and while I felt good about not losing my stack, I felt like this would potentially be harbinger of things to come.
"I hate running into the nuts."
****
Everyone's interpretation of the nuts is different. The strict interpretation is the best possible hand at the time given the texture of the board. Pre-flop, it's easy. Pocket Aces. They're the nuts. But like I said, everyone's interpretation is different.
Mid-way through the 3pm tourney, we'd migrated to crapshoot mode. The blinds were 200/400/50 and it was only level 4. My starting stack of 2500 had nearly doubled to 4700, but even that was to be steadily eaten away by the 1050 chips required to play an orbit. I know the Harrington requirements pretty well. My M was less than 5. It was then that I found AKd and was first to act. Easy play, easy result. I push, everyone folds, my stack is now 5700, an above average one at that with around 25 players left.
On the very next hand I found pocket tens. Again, easy decision. I push. But not everyone folds. The man who would go on to win the tourney found two cards that must have appeared to be the nuts. He found a way to call off 95% of his chips with KQ. Off suit. Ugh.
Now, to be fair, this person was quite a gentlemen. I liked him and after he flopped his Queen, I genuinely wished him luck the rest of the way. If he could use my chips to win the damn thing, then that would be great. I hate his call of course, but what can you do.
The nuts is the nuts.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
One of Many
These blogger gatherings are quite interesting things. Each year they grow, each year they improve, and each year I attend, I find myself simply unable to do everything and talk to everyone I wanted to. I guess it's the nature of the beast. Rather than feel sad about missing out on anything, I've resolved to feel content about the things I accomplished. Certainly this trip ran the gamut of emotions for me. What poker trip wouldn't? There were lows, there were highs, and thanks to a few very cool people, most of it was spent in the realm of quietly content.
I have a favorite author. His name is Stephen R. Donaldson and some of you may know him from the Thomas Covenant trilogies. He once said the following:
"Someone once told me that the difference between an extrovert and an introvert is that an extrovert feeds off the energy of others (applause, laughter, smiles of appreciation, whatever) while an introvert cannot. I've had audiences in the palm of my hand, I've had standing ovations, I've had people fall out of their chairs laughing--and there's no emotional *food* in it for me. It doesn't replenish what it takes out of me. No matter how successful I am in public, I always feel exhausted afterward"
It's taken me a while to realize that this very much applies to myself (standing ovations not withstanding). Basically, after a while among semi-large crowds, I feel the need to withdraw a bit. At blogger gatherings, it's difficult for me to maintain the energy level of those around me. So for those who met me for the first time, or even second or third, and I may have seemed "off" a bit, that's mainly the reason. Hopefully I'll learn to cope with those feelings better in the future.
With that said, Vegas trips for me are about the small things. The random small events with only a few people to share them with. Those are the memories I treasure.
So before I launch off into a trip report, here's a small shout out to some people who created some of those smaller, yet more memorable moments for me.
****
Dr. Jeff and Otis with a pre-poker meal at PF Chang's before the riots ensued.
Marty whose early morning coffee delivery more than made up for his buzz-saw-like snoring.
Matching dinners with Derek at Nob Hill and a promise to come back the next day if either of us won the blogger tourney.
A small, end of trip conversation at the airport with BG.
Seeing AlCantHang for the first time in a while wandering into the Caesar's poker room.
An all too brief encounter with Bam-Bam and Pebbles. I look forward to many more from these good people.
A roulette session with Maudie, who failed to match my bets, costing her an in-tandem quadruple up.
A few minutes with Garth at the IP bar.
Watching the Rooster work his magic on a random hooker. Seriously funny stuff.
A Vegas procedure with a select few fearless bloggers (Pauly, Grubby) and one G-Vegas co-degenerate.
Finally getting to chat MMA with Ig.
Heather always cheering me up with a gratuitous feel up of the gunz.
April, fine girl that she is, complimenting me on my Vegas wardrobe (even though I know some one paid her to do it. :)
And even though it was our only contact, a simple, pretty smile from Carmen at the Venetian.
Mean Gene buying me a drink at the IP when I was most thirsty for a diet beer.
****
I'll think of more as I go along, I hate to leave anything and anyone out.
I have a favorite author. His name is Stephen R. Donaldson and some of you may know him from the Thomas Covenant trilogies. He once said the following:
"Someone once told me that the difference between an extrovert and an introvert is that an extrovert feeds off the energy of others (applause, laughter, smiles of appreciation, whatever) while an introvert cannot. I've had audiences in the palm of my hand, I've had standing ovations, I've had people fall out of their chairs laughing--and there's no emotional *food* in it for me. It doesn't replenish what it takes out of me. No matter how successful I am in public, I always feel exhausted afterward"
It's taken me a while to realize that this very much applies to myself (standing ovations not withstanding). Basically, after a while among semi-large crowds, I feel the need to withdraw a bit. At blogger gatherings, it's difficult for me to maintain the energy level of those around me. So for those who met me for the first time, or even second or third, and I may have seemed "off" a bit, that's mainly the reason. Hopefully I'll learn to cope with those feelings better in the future.
With that said, Vegas trips for me are about the small things. The random small events with only a few people to share them with. Those are the memories I treasure.
So before I launch off into a trip report, here's a small shout out to some people who created some of those smaller, yet more memorable moments for me.
****
Dr. Jeff and Otis with a pre-poker meal at PF Chang's before the riots ensued.
Marty whose early morning coffee delivery more than made up for his buzz-saw-like snoring.
Matching dinners with Derek at Nob Hill and a promise to come back the next day if either of us won the blogger tourney.
A small, end of trip conversation at the airport with BG.
Seeing AlCantHang for the first time in a while wandering into the Caesar's poker room.
An all too brief encounter with Bam-Bam and Pebbles. I look forward to many more from these good people.
A roulette session with Maudie, who failed to match my bets, costing her an in-tandem quadruple up.
A few minutes with Garth at the IP bar.
Watching the Rooster work his magic on a random hooker. Seriously funny stuff.
A Vegas procedure with a select few fearless bloggers (Pauly, Grubby) and one G-Vegas co-degenerate.
Finally getting to chat MMA with Ig.
Heather always cheering me up with a gratuitous feel up of the gunz.
April, fine girl that she is, complimenting me on my Vegas wardrobe (even though I know some one paid her to do it. :)
And even though it was our only contact, a simple, pretty smile from Carmen at the Venetian.
Mean Gene buying me a drink at the IP when I was most thirsty for a diet beer.
****
I'll think of more as I go along, I hate to leave anything and anyone out.
Site Update Test
Made some changes to the site and went to a 3-column format. In doing so, I've not been able to grab the old Haloscan comments, so I guess I'll be using Blogger comments now. I'm hoping the site still feeds into bloglines properly as well. Like I said in the previous posts, Vegas stuff coming.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Pending
I'll get posts up about the trip. Promise. Just too busy at the moment to give things their proper due.
Tonight I'm heading to the Trans-Siberian Orchestra, courtesy my Fortune 5 company. I had no idea who they were and did a web search. One of the founding composers was Jon Oliva. Man, was that name familiar to me. Could it be the same one? It sure was. The former lead vocalist of Savatage was behind this seasonal band.
Along with Al Pitrelli (formerly of Alice Cooper and Megadeth) and Alex Skolnick (formerly of Testament), this band plays holiday classics with a rock orchestra slant. I'm really looking forward to it. You may have heard their signature song Christmas Eve/Sarajevo on the radio during this time of year.
Even better, I get to wear my Vegas shirt again tonight. I got more compliments from my fellow male bloggers on that shirt. Just the exact reason I bought it. I anticipate a yeah/whatever look from the Mrs. upon putting it on. But still, it's an appropriate shirt for the season.
"Don I now my gay apparel."
Tonight I'm heading to the Trans-Siberian Orchestra, courtesy my Fortune 5 company. I had no idea who they were and did a web search. One of the founding composers was Jon Oliva. Man, was that name familiar to me. Could it be the same one? It sure was. The former lead vocalist of Savatage was behind this seasonal band.
Along with Al Pitrelli (formerly of Alice Cooper and Megadeth) and Alex Skolnick (formerly of Testament), this band plays holiday classics with a rock orchestra slant. I'm really looking forward to it. You may have heard their signature song Christmas Eve/Sarajevo on the radio during this time of year.
Even better, I get to wear my Vegas shirt again tonight. I got more compliments from my fellow male bloggers on that shirt. Just the exact reason I bought it. I anticipate a yeah/whatever look from the Mrs. upon putting it on. But still, it's an appropriate shirt for the season.
"Don I now my gay apparel."
Wednesday, December 05, 2007
Best Laid Plans
I don't know why I make plans for Vegas, they never hold. All of my intentions, both cruel and ambitious, fall by the way side once I arrive. Even planning for the traveling seems to lose focus as I get closer.
I tried to workout for the 24 consecutive days prior to the forced layoff of a Vegas trip. Didn't make it.
I'm trying to rip a couple of DVD's to my iPod for the airplane ride. I did finish one last night. But not both.
I'm supposed to go buy a "nice" shirt for dinner on Friday. The best I could do was have the wife meet me at the mall after work to see what we can find. Odds are I'll come away empty handed.
Aside: speaking of clothes shopping... Some of you younger, more hip, and skinnier-legged people help me out here. What is the deal with blue jeans? Generally, I wear comfort fit Levi's. I think they're 560's. Why? Because I do hack squats, leg presses, and other exercises involving the quadriceps and gluteus. None of these freaking modern jeans fit my waste, hip, leg, buttocks ratio. Is there such a thing? And why are they so freaking expensive when they're ripped, stained and faded? I don't get it. Most likely because I'm old. Sigh.
My final prep will be to dine with the family and some minor clothes shopping. I'll charge and upload my iPod overnight. I'll burn a disc of metal shredding songs for PokerPeaker. I'll pack. I'll shave my head. I'll shower.
And then I'll go to sleep.
When I wake up, Otis will be at my front door and Blogger Winter Gathering 2007 will begin.
After that, who the hell knows?
I tried to workout for the 24 consecutive days prior to the forced layoff of a Vegas trip. Didn't make it.
I'm trying to rip a couple of DVD's to my iPod for the airplane ride. I did finish one last night. But not both.
I'm supposed to go buy a "nice" shirt for dinner on Friday. The best I could do was have the wife meet me at the mall after work to see what we can find. Odds are I'll come away empty handed.
Aside: speaking of clothes shopping... Some of you younger, more hip, and skinnier-legged people help me out here. What is the deal with blue jeans? Generally, I wear comfort fit Levi's. I think they're 560's. Why? Because I do hack squats, leg presses, and other exercises involving the quadriceps and gluteus. None of these freaking modern jeans fit my waste, hip, leg, buttocks ratio. Is there such a thing? And why are they so freaking expensive when they're ripped, stained and faded? I don't get it. Most likely because I'm old. Sigh.
My final prep will be to dine with the family and some minor clothes shopping. I'll charge and upload my iPod overnight. I'll burn a disc of metal shredding songs for PokerPeaker. I'll pack. I'll shave my head. I'll shower.
And then I'll go to sleep.
When I wake up, Otis will be at my front door and Blogger Winter Gathering 2007 will begin.
After that, who the hell knows?
Tuesday, December 04, 2007
Two's Days
It's Tuesday, two days out from the Vegas trip. I know most everyone knows about the Bodog blogger tourney tonight, but because Bodog has been so generous to this site, I have no problems posting some information on their behalf:
Play Bodog's Online Poker Blogger Tournament Tuesday Nights!
Bodog invites Poker Bloggers to play in it's Online Poker Blogger Tournament
with a total of $600 in bonus money.
If you are 1 of the 5 money bubblers, you'll have your $11 buy-in refunded and
if you finish in the top 5 you will win an entry for Bodog's Sunday $100K
Guaranteed tournament.
This tournament runs weekly on Tuesday evenings and requires a password for
entry.
Tournament Details
* Date: December 4th, 2007
* Day of week: Tuesday Nights
* Start time: 8:35pm ET
* Tournament Name: "Online Poker Blogger Tournament" at Bodog
* Entry Password: bodogblogger
* Buy-in + fee: $10 + $1
* Starting Chips: 3000 (Double Stack)
* Payout: Standard Bodog payout structure
* Bonuses:
* T$109 bonus paid to the top 5 finishers.
* T$11 bonus paid to the 5 players that are eliminated prior to payouts.
* These bonuses will be awarded within 24hrs of the tournament completion.
* T$ = Tournament Credits. These can be used as a buy in to almost all
scheduled tournaments at Bodog and have a ratio to cash of 1:1.
* T$ can also be combined with cash to buy in to tournaments.
If you haven't played at the Bodog Poker Room before, please download and
install the free software client at:
http://www.bodoglife.com/poker/download-poker.jsp It only takes minutes!
If you're not yet a Bodog member, sign up for your free account by clicking the
"Join Now" button in the Poker Room client.
Getting Started At The Bodog Online Poker Room
http://www.bodoglife.com/poker/getting-started.jsp
If you need assistance with signing up for the tournament or with starting a
Bodog Account please call or email:
Bodog Poker Customer Service Number: 1-866-909-2237
Bodog Poker Customer Service Email: poker@bodoglife.com
Bodog Poker - New Design, New Look!
http://www.calvinayrelife.com/bodog-poker-new-software-new-look.html
Bodog Poker - A Name You Can Trust!
http://www.bodoglife.com/poker/poker-certification.jsp
BoDonkey Poker Blogger Tournament Banner
http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2036/1801232650_1ecf43fb1f.jpg
Featuring the Bodacious Bodog Girl Izabella.
Read daily tournament updates at tournament host site
http://smokkee.blogspot.com/
Bodog will continue to run this tournament on Tuesday nights into the New Year
and increase prizes as well as turn this into a poker league with an ongoing
leader board.
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