WPBT Report

Lookee! A report! Kind of.

Insert all other reports here. Arrived, ate, played poker, saw good people, gambled, drank a bit, ate more, left. Good eggs, etc, etc..

I mean, why be repetitive? You know how these things go by now. Okay, fiiiiine, here are the highlights of a busy 5.5 days.

Small group this year. Around 40 in the tournament. The group of veterans of previous gatherings who were in New Orleans certainly cut the numbers down a bit. So be it. People can do what they want.

Brought my friend along so she could experience what I always rave about. This led to a tour of the classics for me.

Robuchon was as incredible as ever. This time the chef came out to talk to another table, and I noticed the tri-coloured collar on his jacket. The sign of a M.O.F. - the highest order of achievement of artistry in France (for many categories, cuisine among them). This should have come as no surprise, yet I was still impressed.

é was it's usual creative best, save for the annoying guest who felt it was his duty to educate his friends (often incorrectly) about what they were eating. The staff was visibly annoyed/amused, and the sous-chef for the evening focused on us as it was clear the other party couldn't hear him over their braying companion.

Craftsteak was delicious, even if we had to cover the cost of flakes who bailed last-minute, despite my rather clear exhortations to let me know ahead of time. Next time I think we aim for multiple small groups.

Raku was solid, but disappointing only because I've been there before and it didn't live up to past visits. A clearly missing broth course (that bowl and spoon wasn't for fried fish, I guarantee you), and the definite impression of at least one or two more courses missing (asparagus? chicken on a bed of spinach? where were you?). What was served was excellent, but if costs have gone up, then I wouldn't mind paying a bit more to get the full experience.

The last night's meal was at FIX, courtesy of Grange, and it was a great way to end the trip. Good company, good drinks, imported brandy (thanks Lori!) all adds up to a fine meal.

Also grabbed some fries and a beer with OhCaptain, Absinthetics, Nickerson, and Atarifan in there too.

Ziplining was freezing, but fun nonetheless. Maybe I'll get some video of my legs flying through the air up here sometime. Or some pictures at least.

The Neon Museum on Sunday was also pretty chilly, but the place looks far more orderly since the visitor's center went in. Pics eventually.

Managed to grab a bottle of can't-find-at-home liquor (Swedish Punsch) at Total Wine. Struck out on high-end whiskeys this time, but what can you do? I got good beer, some of it even free from Nate/Atarifan (yay backpack of alcohol!). Sadly, I didn't catch up with Grange in time again to snag an offered free bottle of Templeton. Them's the breaks... Superman slots were being too kind to me, and night photography outside the Bellagio is hard to pass up.

Even hit the north outlets and bought clothes and sunglasses. Although I think I could have got the shades cheaper back home.

Saw Beatles Love for the second time (first time was... wow, 8 years ago), and actually stayed awake through it (yay caffeine mints!). Great show, great seats.

Saw what's become of the IP. Bones are still there, but it's a scarily sterile place now.

Went out halfway in the tournament, but my last-longer partner Vinnay went out as Gigli on 0 hours of sleep in the previous 30ish hours, so I don't feel too bad. Then made a bit of profit playing cash at Monte Carlo with CK, Grange, Penner, Mondo, Katie, Matt, and some random others, I recall Drizz railing for a bit too. Hope I'm not missing anyone. Oh yah, and Bayne finally joined us too. This is where some Edmontonian convinced Grange and Katie to bet on a terrible hockey game.Suckers.

Railed BrainMC at Pai Gow, but when I finally sat down to a game, only Penner was still around. It's for the best, as the dealers hated me and kept taking my money away, so I may have been dubbed worlds worst Pai Gow player if there were more witnesses.

Some craps was played and some slots. A wee touch of bad video poker too. All told, I ended up a small amount. Enough to cover... well... not much. Gas? Resort fees? But it's better than a loss. And as always, not the point of the trip.

See you all same time next year? Super.

Maybe I'll Even Get Some Gambling In

It's rapidly approaching that time of year again.

The hap-hapiest time.

With brightly coloured lights, friends sharing food and drink, laughter abounding, stories being told over the warm glow of green felt tabletops.

WPBT time is next weekend. Remember when there used to be blogs about it?

I'm once again in town for my maximum tolerance level, and have once again crammed my schedule full of food and fun. Maybe even a comet this time around, depending on the power of our mighty sun. All hail Sol, destroyer of icy rocks.

I think we've got 13 people lined up for Craftsteak on Friday night so far. Still room for more if you're interested.

I'm running through my schedule in my head. I think I have a window of not doing anything early Thursday afternoon, and of course, post-midnight every day. Of course, this is under the assumption that my last longer partner Vinnay and I end up heads-up in the tournament. I see no reason to doubt that will come to pass.

But hey, Pai Gow and craps are always better after the witching hour, with a stomach bloated with food and a liver working on fine wine and cocktails. Which reminds me to check on my caffeine supply. Ah Vegas, land of health. Hell, dinner on Saturday starts at 10pm. Positively European... except that it's Japanese.

How it Goes

Out in 10th.

The tweet said KJh < 66. But that of course only tells part of the story.

With stacks as low as 17k and 3k/6k/500 being the starting level, I knew that action would be fast and furious to start. So I kept my 124k chip lead mostly out of the way.

Things settled down a bit as people dropped and chips consolidated. I stole some blinds and antes, wasn't stealing when I won a couple as well. I more or less stayed where I was, which was enough to stay above everyone else, but I knew that couldn't last without being proactive.

Eventually, I looked down at 66 in the BB. At this point the button and SB had both limped to me, and I opted to check and set mine.  Flop came 288 rainbow and the SB checked to me. I pot-bet and the button folded. The SB debated for a bit and then pushed all-in for 65k more. So I'm calling 65k for 118k pot. I have around 95k in front of me, and 66 with a paired board and no information. I'm kicking myself for not raising pre. I finally fold, worried not only that he caught an 8 or had pocket 2s, but that he's actually got a couple overcards that will hit. Right after I fold I realize I've been in a hand with this guy once before, and that he's capable of pushing with air. My internal monologue is ranting at me for being a wuss.

I'm still in okay shape though. An orbit later, again in the BB, UTG pushes all-in for 28k. SB (same guy as before) calls, and I come over the top all-in. UTG is happy for the protection, and SB curses me for my move before folding. My AQ falls to a KJ with the jack on the river, and I'm down more. SB explains the concept of calling and checking down to me. I explain the concept of "no prizes for making the final table" to him. There's no way KOing UTG and gifting SB over 80k helps me out.

I'm short now, but manage to limp to a river against the usual suspect, and win a small pot with a pair of 4s. I take it.

Break comes and I spend it eating while staring at my stack and talking poker pro stories with the guy I've been sparring with. Coming back it's 6k/12k/1k for 10 minutes before we get to 5k/10k/1k.  I'm in trouble.

I let a couple hands go by before pushing with A7o UTG. The same guy as previously tanks in the BB and finally calls with... A8o.  Dammit. AT4 on the flop. 8 on the turn. Fuck me. T on the river... Two pair, 10s and Aces with an... 8 kicker. I survive and win half the blinds.

Couple hands later, AJo. I push, win some a couple limps and the BB. I have some chips. Around 90k. 5/10/1 though, so it ain't pretty yet.

A couple hands more and I see KJh.  My nemesis for the evening raises to 20k, I push over the top. It's enough to make him think. And think. He finally calls with 66, a hand that in hindsight hated me last night. Two hearts and a queen on the flop and I'm in good shape with 15 outs twice, and a runner-runner straight draw for fun. 6 on the turn does me zero favours, but I still have the hearts as a possibility. River is a black card and I'm done.

I have no complaints about the final hand. I have none about the previous plays I made. Except one. The 66. I'm positive I was ahead there, but talked myself out of it. Maybe he catches something and I'm out earlier. Maybe he doesn't and I'm huge and he's gone. Either way, I'm sure I made a mistake.

Oh, and it's how it always goes - the guy who I battled with? Won the whole thing. GL to him in whichever 1k WSOP event he's playing.

Divided Attention

Two unimaginable games. Back-to-back victories over the Bruins. Somehow, The Leafs, MY Leafs, were in game 7, with all the momentum their way.

And I was heading uptown to play free poker in a bar with poorly placed televisions. My Leafs jersey (Clark 17, C, Winter Classic) was on, and a Tim Hortons cup was in my hand as I boarded the subway. I exchanged nods with the random stranger in a Leafs jersey sitting across from me. I looked at the other jerseys around me. They all got off at Union station, a short underground walk to the Air Canada Centre and Maple Leaf Square. I stayed on the train.

It was day 2 of the main event after all. I didn't play to get here for nothing.

Up the stairs I wandered, got my seat assignment, and listened to the welcome and game changes for this stage of play. I was table 6, downstairs, away from the rest of the action. Seat 1 was obstructed view of the TV in the opposite corner. It would suffice.

7pm saw the cards in the air and the puck dropped.

20,000 chips in front of me. 20,000 fans in their seats.

I called a few small raises with hands meant to catch. They didn't. I was more interested in the game on the TV than the game I was playing. Boston scored. The bar groaned. I said it was still early. I counted my chips and was down 10%. It was still early.

Franson scored. The bar erupted in cheers. My chips hadn't changed much.

We broke for dinner, I was down 5%, Leafs were tied at the beginning of the second.

Franson scored again, 2-1, happy bar. My grilled chicken caesar wrap with tasteless fries was served.

Back to the game, back to watching the game. I make a huge error. I flip the 5k chip off the top of my stack instead of taking the 500 from the bottom, plus a couple 100s. 5.2k pre-flop raise in the hijack instead of 700 at the 100/200/25. Pocket nines. The table pauses, unsure how to react. Folds to the small blind, who tanks and then calls. Big blind is in pain, wanting to take part, but now extra scared by the call. He folds.

Flop comes K99. Dem's quads. SB thinks and bets 5.1k into the 10.8k pot. He has less than 10k behind, I have around 14k. I push, figuring he either can't get away or has AA, AK, or KK and won't leave. He calls and flips over TT for the runner-runner quads draw. It doesn't come and I find myself with around 38k, having doubled my stack.

Third period starts and Kessel scores. 3-1 Leafs. Table lead me.

Kadri scores. 4-1 Leafs, nothings changed at the table, but most of us are cheering and watching the TV anyway.

Bruins get one back, I comment that I HATE 2 goal leads because they create a false sense of security. Two idiots at the table comment that it's okay, because there's no way Boston scores two goals in 10 minutes. The Leafs will shut them down. I politely inform them to keep their traps shut.

Play continues both on the ice and at the table. My chips stay static, my hands inconsequential.

Boston scores again, after my guys can't pot an empty-netter. We can't see how much time is on the clock due to obstructing wall. I check my apps and see 1:22 left. Sonofabitch.Same morons as before tell us not to worry, I contemplate defenestration, even if it's only onto the patio.

Tied game. I tweet one word, but use a lot of capital letters and "U"s.

We colour up and the table breaks to join the rest of the tournament upstairs. Overtime is starting. I hope nothing happens until I get to my new seat.

One TV in the corner, but I have a better view than before. The upstairs guys are a few minutes behind us, and are still colouring up the small chips. I lean against a bar rail and try to keep my stomach from churning. 3 games of momentum completely switched around. 3 minutes of unfortunate play exposing the inexperience of a young team. Gasps and almost cheers and texts and tweets and nerves and pain and anticipation all roiling around, and I still have a tournament to play.

Bergeron scores for Boston, and I pound on the rail and hang my head. The bar empties out. Play resumes. It's suddenly very hot under my Jersey, so I hang it on my chair. Börje Salming was dealing, now it's just a guy named Phil who looks about as thrilled as I am. I fold hands and pay no attention to the table. I tweet and text and support my forehead with my hand as I toss out antes.

A Canadian is returning from space and landing in the sea in Kazakhstan, contained in a sardine tin with two other astronauts. He's inspired hundreds of thousands, if not millions of people over the past 5 months with videos and photos and songs and a goofy and ultimately Canadian sense of humour. He's cheered the Leafs the whole time. He's watched the games a day behind, asking 750,000 people not to spoil the outcomes for him. He was hurtling towards the Earth and experiencing forces I never will as the boys in Blue and White were choking on youth and anxiety. I hope he doesn't ask what the score is until he's out of the capsule. I'm incredibly proud of our representative to the world while simultaneously sad about a hockey game.

I start paying attention to the game. The dealer/player is raking in a big pile of big chips. He's a good player with the apparent table lead, and two to my left. This could take some work. I see nothing particularly worthwhile, but steal some blinds and antes. I fold more than I call, but my 29k in chips is rapidly depreciating as the seconds tick by.

A 5k chip is found under the table. Everyone agrees it's probably the dealer's from his big hand. Tournament director declares it a dead chip as it had been there for a while. Dealer tilts. Leafs loss was probably the instigator, chip is the catalyst.


Parachutes are open and the Soyuz is on screen. All systems look good. I watch players push and survive. I keep getting change for my antes and blinds.

Dealer, still tilting slams down a call against two all-ins. His KJs catches a J on the river and knocks them both out. Still a roiling boil under the lid.

Splashdown. I see QTd with no action ahead of me. I raise and get only the BB calling. Q6T on the flop, BB bets, I push, BB calls. K6 is no good against my two pair, and I double up to a useable stack.

Next hand see QTs, and again, no action before me. I raise again, and get called by the simmering dealer. Everyone else folds. Flop comes all spades, all lower than my T. I bet just under the pot. My opponent tanks with an incredibly deep scowl on his brow. He almost starts talking to himself. I get a death stare and blink. He calls. Flop is a red card. I push. He calls and says, "You have a flush?" "Yup." "I knew it." He shows AJd, and maybe caught a pair on the river. I somehow had him barely covered after my last win. He calls over the floor and demands that he be relieved NOW. Deals one more hand. They break the table to let him get away. I say nothing. A "good game" sounds insulting in my mind, so I keep it to myself.

I count as I rack up for the move - 120k. Chip lead.  Commander Hadfield is out of the capsule, last of the three. All safe and sound and getting used to gravity while looking forward to a hot shower and toilets that flush. I imagine a flame-grilled steak wouldn't suck either. Our achievements so far are not comparable, although I'm okay with a camera.

New table is uneventful. CBC continues in the background, but it's nothing of interest anymore. We break to colour up the 100's and we are 5 away from breaking for the day, or 23 minutes, whichever comes first.

Shortly upon return, I'm moved for the final time. Best view of the TV all night, nothing good on. As I unrack my chips, the classic "ah, here to distribute the wealth" line is quipped. I retort with "no, I'm on a mission of consolidation so they have less bags to worry about tomorrow." Then I steal the blinds and antes to show that I'm serious.

I get a walk in the BB a bit later, but otherwise don't play as stacks drop off. 3 left. 2. On the bubble and hand-for-hand between the two tables.

A medium stack raises from the button. The BB pushes all-in. They're close. Button calls quickly with AKd. BB shows QJh. The board plays out with low cards, but a third heart on the river. AK doesn't see it and assume he won. Comments that he feels bad, but thinks the BB has him covered, so the BB is still around for tomorrow. Dealer counts, and he's right - the BB does have him covered, so the button is out. He doesn't understand. The whole table points out the flush. AK feels like a fool and announces he's the bubble and out, wishes everyone good luck, and scampers out.

On his way, the floor lets him know he's actually out 16th, as an all-in went out at the other table just before him. The result doesn't change, but Day 3 is now 15 players instead of 16, and the guy gets to feel worse on his way home.

Chips are bagged, photos are taken, handshakes and congratulations are offered all around. When all is said and done, I'm still chip leader with 124k, ahead of the 101.5k second place before it drops to 80's and 50's and lower. 935,000 chips in play, 62k average stack. 3000/6000/500 8-handed to start today, 20 minutes a level.

And the Blue Jays will be on in the background.

Poker For Fun And... Fun

A while back a friend of mine moved to an apartment building over a sports bar. He's not much of a sports fan, but they also happen to host a weekly game in a local bar poker league, and he does play some recreational poker. His weekly tweets about the game piqued my dormant poker bug and a couple months ago I finally dragged myself up there to toss some free chips around.

I returned weekly. I peeked at the other venues they played at, and considered joining in the Sunday Poker Stars home game they host (but seeing as my online roll is limited, that was unlikely). Turns out I was having fun playing with nothing really on the line.

The added incentives of points and final tournaments and champions games for WSOP trips didn't hurt either.

So I showed up for 7 of the 8 possible weeks I could have played, and picked up enough points for two entries into their main event, made 3 final tables, and have generally had a good time. Then they went and gave me a 3rd entry from a random draw of people who had hit one of the nightly bonus hands (I hit a flush early once and got credit only because everyone had forgotten it had been added that week as a bonus hand).

Entries are simple enough - they're running 6 day 1's, and I could enter 3 of them. If I made the final 8 in any of them, the remaining were forfeit, as day 2 starts with a fresh rack.

I played in the first of them last night, and now don't have to play the other two, having very undeservedly made the final 8.

It was my second straight week of fairly terrible poker.

The structure, as would be expected, is terrible. Designed to get everyone (around 40 players on any given night) out in five hours. 8-handed tables and 15 minute levels means one's range expands, and one's aggression increases. The mix of players, from absolute donkeys with gills to players who have WPT and WSOP cashes under their belts also means you have to be at least somewhat aware of who you're up against and what they are or aren't capable of.

I played weak, passive poker while being distracted by the Leafs-Bruins game playing above me, knowing I had two more entries in my pocket. Truly a fantastic mix.

I overcalled and overbet early on, blowing 25% of my starting stack by the first break. A bit of luck helped in the second hour of play, where my 9Tc saw a 7JK rainbow flop, giving me the ol' double gutshot straight draw. A pot-sized bet from my left thinned out the crowd, but wasn't enough to get me away. The 8o on the turn was perfect. It checked around to me, and I bet 2/3 of the pot, leaving me with a pittance behind. Left of me tanked and tanked before folding (I had him on a call for sure), and the 3rd player in our hand verbally called, thinking I had bet 1/10th of what I actually had (500 instead of 5000). When informed of my actual bet, he was obviously unhappy but bound. The river T wasn't something that pleased me, but I pushed in my last few chips, which were called by Mr. Can't-see-across-the-table with his pair of kings. I got a nice double-up plus some to let me breathe. The original bettor revealed he had folded two pair, which shocked me and gave me a ton of info on him.

I was able to take a few blinds and antes, and chip up a bit more. Then I gave all my winnings away on a bad call (2nd pair vs two pair) when I didn't believe the dealer's all-in (the dealers are also players, and are generally a higher caliber). Back to push-or-fold mode for me.

A couple hands later I got it back with AQ beating AJ, and then another AJ going down to my KK a hand after that.

Then I gave most of it away when my QJ ran into KJ with Jxx on the flop and a short stack pushing against me. I didn't like the call, but I needed the chips and could barely survive the loss. But we were down to sixteen players, and the numbers were dropping fast.

I did a lot of folding when I couldn't afford to. Wishing I had enough chips to scare someone out instead of getting an insta-call from the blinds. I lucked out and scared off the SB to my BB with a push to her limp that she really should have called. Some fishhooks got no calls and I pulled in blinds and antes. More players fell. With two left to the end I once again shoved my BB into the SB's limp and she called. My KJ caught a J on the flop that held and she was crippled while I had nearly tripled up. Someone on the other table went out. I returned the favour a hand later, calling from the SB to her less-than-the-BB all-in on the button. A check-down between me and the BB saw me win back my call in the side pot and triple her up.

Two hands later, the other table saw the final elimination and there was much applause and hand-shaking.

The organizer of this league astutely noted that I should have been gone hours before. The dealer we'd had for most of the game was amazed I'd come back so many times. I wholeheartedly agreed with their assessments. I was just happy that my evenings had cleared up this week.

Day 2 comes next week. Day 3 the day after with the final 16. The winner gets a trip to Vegas and a $1000 WSOP buy-in. If I have any aspirations to spending a few days in the sweltering Vegas heat this summer, I have to play much better. But if I don't? The summer session is playing for a shot at the LAPT in Panama City.

WPBT Trip Report

I suppose I should try and get this up before I end up back in Vegas (that's February).

I've been going to these things since the summer of 2006 (I missed the Winter gathering that year though), and they're always a good time. This year was no exception, although things were a bit different.

These weekends used to be preceded by warnings of how to drink properly and maintaining a buddy system so someone would run a welfare check on you if you disappeared after 29 hours of greyhounds and soco shots. Now people talk about running in marathons and hiking through canyons.

Something something growing up.

For me, it's always about seeing friends I see but once a year, twice if I'm lucky.  It could be a weekend in an empty room with food and bathroom breaks and it'd still be a good time with this group. Of course, we'd undoubtedly come up with new forms of gambling by the end of it.

I arrived, I played slots and craps and poker and the like. I drank, but nowhere near to excess. I ate tasty food, had an ambulance called for me, worried a dozen people, talked hockey with a celebrity, walked through some hills, took a bunch of photos, and lost a few bucks. All-in-all, a good time

The Hike

Dan/Peaker posted an innocent question a month or so before the trip - "I want to go on a hike, is anybody interested?" 14 of us said "YES!" and he now had to herd cats bloggers.

Amazingly, everyone showed up on time. It should be stated that "on time" means "within half an hour of the we're-leaving-without-out deadline". We drove out to the wilderness, where any able-bodied mountain climber turned runner could easily subdue and bury 14 people that would never be found. Surprisingly, that's not foreshadowing.

The hike, despite Dan's claims of it being "at least a class 15, uphill both ways, definitely requiring crampons and years of training" was mostly a nice walk through some rocks and over a creek. I took pictures.













There was something like an 80% survival rate, which I think is pretty good.

That was Friday morning. Little did I know that an aquatic creature would nearly kill me that night.

The Ambulance

Post-hike was the usual activities of cleaning up, gambling, having a couple drinks, and patching together plans for diner. It was Friday on the Strip, so options seemed limited. But in today's world of apps, making a reservation for 4 that becomes 7 that becomes 12 is fairly easy. To China Poblano we did go. It's a solid restaurant that I've enjoyed in the past.

We took over our table, ordered a whack of dishes for the table, and generally had a good time. My drink took longer than expected to arrive, but I didn't care. The food arrived, and I dove into the tuna ceviche. With a crunch.

I called over the waitress and asked what was in their ceviche. She ran through the list of ingredients, finishing with "pecans".  Right, that would be the issue. I calmly explained my nut allergy, and she calmly went into an "ohshitohshitohshit" panic.

The thing with my nut allergy - it takes a little bit to kick in, so I'm never sure if I caught it in time. Those around me worried, and I collected my thoughts. I sucked on some lemons, a trick that used to work fairly well, but not so much this time. I felt the anaphylaxis coming on and asked Carol to get me some Benadryl. I'd already asked the hostess for some, but she seemed to have missed that memo.

As the staff was converging on me and asking if I wanted paramedics, or anything, Carol returned with the magic pink knock-out pills. I took a couple, and then left with the nice security man to fill out a report and determine if a hospital visit was in order. Again, Carol was great and stuck with me to make sure I wasn't knocked over the head and buried on a hiking trail to avoid liability and lawsuits.

Form filled out and lip noticeably swelled, I decided paramedics wouldn't suck. My Canadian brain was estimating US hospital costs and trying to remember if I had to let my insurance provider know before or after the trip in order to be paid back. Of course, not knowing my policy # or anything didn't help. I was led through the back halls of the Cosmopolitan, which are pretty boring, and by the time I was downstairs, the paramedics had arrived.

The first two through the door had a stretcher... for the person who had fallen and whacked their head in the elevator.  My guys came afterwards. A bit of discussion and more forms later, we all agreed that the Benadryl was doing its thing and they couldn't do much more for me outside of charging me ridiculous sums of money. I was on the road to recovery.

Back through the casino to my awaiting friends who had polished off what I'm sure was a delicious dinner. People seemed relieved that I was alive, then asked if I was upset they had already started joking about my death. Seeing as how I'd be the first to do the same if it was them, no hard feelings were had.

Of course, the restaurant didn't comp a single damned thing off the menu. But Michelle wielded her mighty might and talked them into taking off all the orders of the offending ceviche of death. Someone forgot to tell the waiter though, who then chased us out of the restaurant for the missing portion of the bill. Then he questioned Michelle's math while Carol stormed back in to grab the hostess. It was incredibly amusing to see the waiter wilt under Michelle's glare while the hostess came out like a scolded pet behind an angry local. Needless to say, all was quickly settled and we continued on our way.

The interesting thing about Benadryl is that it knocks you on your ass. More fun is when you've consumed a high-caffeine mint or two just before dinner and they're fighting it out, swimming in the booze you've consumed between those times.  The best option is of course to play poker on a screwed-up table with wooden posts all over it.

I think I said "it might be the Benadryl talking, but..." more than a few times during that game. I left a winner. "I almost died tonight" also came into play when needed. When did I ever claim to have pride?

Thanks to my two "moms" for the night in Carol and April. Who had various medications spread between the two of them and made sure to ask repeatedly how I was doing. It was appreciated, as I was myself a bit unsure about being alone until I knew I was in the clear.

The Tournament

The centrepiece of these gatherings is the tournament.The whole lot shows up to play bad poker for not insignificant winnings.

This lot:



I went out relatively early to my lust for Grange's mugs. Two beautiful copper Moscow Mule mugs were his bounty, and I wanted them. I doubled him up, and then gave him the rest of my chips on hands I have since forgotten. What a dick. To get him back, I had dinner with him and PokerVixen and OnAFoldDraw later that night at Herbs and Rye. I may not know what "get him back" means.


As with all tournaments, you want to go out early or in the money. I had plenty of time after my ousting to lose money and have some more drinks. To BrainMC and Chilly - Hey orange! You're up!

The tournament went until 11ish and finished with CJ beating TheWookieWay. I missed the 10th and 9th place finishers I think. But managed to grab a shot of the final 8.



The final two looked like this:



It was obvious from early on that CJ would win. Why? Because his flight left at 11:20, so the Poker Gods would make sure he was in the tournament as late as possible. He could have pushed every hand heads-up and he would have won. Maybe he did. I left about 3 minutes before it wrapped up. Congrats to everyone who cashed though.

The Rest

I had some great meals - Carnevino with Fuel, Bayne, and a buddy of Fuel's. Steak aged something like 8 months that tasted great, but fell short of what I expected. I'm happy I did it, I don't need to do it again. Fantastic wine.  Herbs and Rye with Grange, Poker Vixen, and On A Fold Draw meant some good drinks (Mule, and a solid Blood and Sand), and way too much food. Tao was worth doing as well, but like much of the Venetian, the menu is showing its age, trends have moved beyond the trends it was catering to. That said, I wouldn't have passed up dinner with the Penners and Brian if it had been at McDonald's. Carol also introduced me to Bachi Burger on my way out of town, which is on my list of places to return to. Great burgers.

I once again missed the chance to greet the runners as they finished. I tried to make it over there with a Penner and his fiancée, but we severely underestimated the crowds and route and made it too late. I did, however, spend the night post-dinner with a few of those who ran, and many who didn't, around a poker table in the Mirage. I left down cash, but up huge in fun. You haven't played advanced poker until you've called off 2/3 of your stack with K2o on a board that completely missed you. I made the right read on Penner the younger, he just had slightly less nothing than I thought... oops.

I met Wil Wheaton who had made it out for the first time in years, and he came across as a genuinely nice guy who was happy to be among friends.  I also took some of his money with a boat over his pair of 4s, and shot the shit about hockey with him. He's a notorious Leafs-basher, but after a couple shots (we've heard 'em all), he seemed to actually be interested in what the fanbase of the most loved/hated team in the league is like. Regardless of your team, all us hockey fans just want them back on the ice.

I brought contraband across the border in the form of Kinder Eggs for Absinthetics. I do hope his family hasn't choked to death... they seem really nice.

Drinks with the Nassis (wow, you've got to be careful typing that), Marty, Chilly, F-Train and M. Templeton rye at the bar by the sports book (it lives up to the hype. The rye, not the bar). Walking the strip with Alan and Kat (not that one, the one he's engaged to). More poker than I've played in previous trips with various friends. Up all night playing video roulette with Vinnay (bastard wins a bunch, I continue to lose). Learning open-face Chinese poker with Vinnay and Carol in Vinnay's room when we should have really all gone to sleep already. Getting a ride with LVCabChronicles and it being the cheapest airport-to-Aria ride EVER (seriously, $14.50! Everyone else was ripped off). Losing money to friends. Winning money from friends. Watching my MLife points climb at way too terrible an exchange rate. Being mildly insulted by Grange and his fervent anti-Canadianism (aka: jealousy).

Oh, and finding an incredibly hard to get bottle of boubon at a liquor store on the way to the airport. Like needle-in-a-field-full-of-haystacks hard.

All great memories. I'm sure I've missed some, and missed people. I apologize, no slights were intentional.

It was also a year of change. The IP is now no more. It's The Quad now. The Geisha bar was gone before we got there. I didn't even go in the IP this year, and only passed it on my way to dinner in the Venetian. This was our traditional meeting spot. The cheapest rooms on the strip, dealertainers, and $5 Pai Gow and craps. I couldn't tell you what it looks like now. That was a refrain often heard - "I haven't even been near it." The Aria is the new base of operations. The Excalibur made its return as the cheap game and cheap bar venue of choice. This decentralization seemed to help - people had to reach out. Texts and tweets were frequently sent as people sought out the next thing that was going on. I spent more time with more people than previous years. It was a sentiment I heard echoed a few times. In many ways, this diaspora brought the community closer together. I definitely look forward to 2013, where I expect to see at least some of you outside of Vegas before we all reconvene.

And I'll throw in a couple more pictures. These from the walk from the Aria to Venetian during the marathon. All these and more are also over here.










Is it next December yet?

Keeping Poker Grey

Yes, a post about poker... here. Who'da thunk it?

I was reading Grange's writeup on the recent court decision on a home game in South Carolina when I got to thinking that poker staying in this grey area of legality creates appeal to the game.

Poker is American as something that is considered really American. It's a game that still brings forth images of saloons and guns and aces up sleeves and flipped tables and smokey back rooms and riverboats and lives being traded on the turn of a card. Yet it's now also associated with sunglasses and hoodies and feature tables and piles of cash being brought out and commentators and hole cams and live blogs and websites and avatars and virtual felt.  It's modernized and gone mainstream while holding onto its outlaw appeal.

Poker has been sitting at a crossroads for a decade now. It's everywhere if you look for it, yet still not accepted or understood by the masses. One still sees poker games portrayed incorrectly in modern media. My favourite version is where someone bets more than their opponent has in front of them, and the only way to see the hand through is for the short-stacked sucker bet something of value - his wedding ring, or watch, or car, or house, or whatever moves the plot forward. In reality, the short-stack is simply all-in, and can lose no more than what they have in front of them. About a half second of thought reveals why this is so: If reality worked that way, I'd just buy-in for more than everybody and go all-in every hand so they could never call without risking their Ferrari vs my extra $5.

But it's that risk that appeals. That feeling that you could lose it all or win a fortune depending how the cards fall. That image is supported by the fact that poker is still illegal in so many places.

Toronto once had a booming underground poker scene. The nearest legal poker rooms are an hour or two away in big casinos. During the summer, a charity poker room opens up at the Canadian National Exhibition, and it's where Daniel Negreanu and Evelyn Ng got their start. But if it was Tuesday evening and you wanted to toss some chips around? You were out of luck unless you knew the right door to buzz.

The media portrayed these clubs as dark dens of iniquity. Fortunes stolen by the owners, illegal drugs and prostitution abounding. The reality, at least for the club I was in, was much more mundane. Well-lit rooms full of 20 & 30-somethings who knew each other by name. A couple TVs with the game on, and a fridge to put your beer in. Sure, a rake was taken, but the lights had to be kept on, and the guy running it needed to get something from the deal. Nobody complained, and everyone had a good time. Outside of the odd joint (brought in by the smoker), the most illegal drug was Red Bull.

But there was something exciting about hitting that buzzer and looking up at the small video camera by the door. There was something SO COOL about walking into that room and having the owner greet you by name and ask how it's going. And there was always the odd butterfly that flitted around wondering if you'd get caught. You loved telling your friends about the "underground poker club" you played at. It made you seem like an even better player at the home games. And if you saw one of the other members on the street, that knowing nod and grin said it all.

Of course, when mine was busted in all its media-reporting glory (an hour after I had left for the night), I stopped going. I thought about it once, then thought better of it. They got busted again, tried re-opening with a different runner, and as far as I know, gave up.

It was the threat of danger that appealed. Once that danger became all-too-real, the allure was lost. I'm no bad-ass rebel. I'm a lazy middle-class white man living in a great big city in a condo in a safe neighbourhood. but poker is one of those vices that feels like it adds a dimension of cool.

Because it's not entirely legal.

Saying "I play softball" or "I like to shoot hoops with my buddies" is pedestrian. Whoopdeedoo. Sure, it's fun, social, and requires some level of skill, but it's also safe. It's accepted. Kids do it in gym class. But poker? Poker gets people raising an eyebrow and saying, "oh?" Saying you go to Vegas or Niagara sometimes to play cards is fun, even though those are places where poker is as accepted as softball in suburbia. Finding a fellow player is like finding another Stonecutter - a member of your secret society.

A home game is a tiny bit of rebellion. The stakes may only be $20 + beer and pizza money, but it means the married folks got permission from their spouse, or found a babysitter. It means the single ones are showing off that they can do this whenever they want. And in some places, like South Carolina apparently, the cops could bust down your door and take your Walmart chip set.

When online poker was all over the States, every single player knew they were, at BEST, in a grey area of legality. It wasn't easy to get money on a site. There were laws out there that weren't entirely understood. Justifications about skill vs chance were used to reassure oneself that everything would be okay. And when the hammer came down, every US player was pissed, but at least secretly thought "well, I knew that could happen."  Let's face it - you felt special when talking to your non-poker friends about how you played online poker. If it had been perfectly legal, it would be as impressive as talking about how you play World of Warcraft.

So yah, busting up a home game isn't cool. Not having a legal poker room in a population centre of over 5 million people seems ridiculous. Keeping people from playing poker from their couch reeks of a nanny-state. If poker ever gets out of the grey and into the domain of accepted pastimes, let's hope it stays at least as cool as pool. But right now? When laws against it are being fought in courts, and when millions of dollars of player money are still being held by law enforcement agencies? Damn, does it ever make us boring-ass nobodys feel a little like outlaws.

Welcome Back BBT

Well, the indomitable Sir Al Can't Hang has managed to convince a site to let us silly poker bloggers toss some fake chips around again!

Details are at his site, so I imagine anyone reading this has already read that, but that don't mean I can't point you in that direction.

The only issue for me is that it's this Saturday. I will be kicking back with a beer in hand on a gorgeous deck overlooking a beautiful lake in scenic Quebec cottage country at that time. Or I'll be in a hot tub. There's the small possibility I'll be prepping some German Potato Salad or Strawberry-Rhubarb Galettes at the time too, but those will more likely come later.

Point being, I won't be within easy access of a computer. But if I can get this going in some way, I'll be there to play terrible, terrible poker.

Because a cruise wouldn't suck.

Tiny Challenges

I'm off to Vegas again in a couple days. Back when these plans were forming many months ago, I feared that this second trip in just over a month would be reluctant. After all, 3-4 days in Vegas is plenty, and a recharge before returning is always good. But I'm actually really stoked about this one. Different group, different experiences, and the enthusiasm of my friends is infectious.

One minor debate I had with myself was if I wanted to bring my camera gear again. December saw the camera, a couple lenses, Promote Control, 6' tripod, and other doohickeys. Out of that, I got some pics I'm pretty happy with, and a few I'm really happy with. This trip will have 4 full days, with the potential for plenty of lulls in activity... which could be ideal for a photowalk or two. But I've decided less is more. So the only camera I'll have with me is my iPhone, and I intend to use it.

It's not a great camera. It's terrible in low light. It's obviously pretty much full auto. Still, I think I can do some interesting things with it.

That is, when I'm not rolling dice, hitting max bet buttons, or begging for a dealer Pai Gow. Oh, and video poker... I've decided to give that a real try this time. Although I just don't see that as a winning proposition, it could be okay for tier points.

Through the Beer Glass, Darkly

More blahdeblah about photography classes.

I wrapped up another semester in December. It feels odd calling them semesters since I'm only taking one or two courses, at night, once a week.  Still, it's class, there's work involved.

Next one starts this week. A continuation of a previous class, and I have little idea what will be asked of us. I imagine more of the same, perhaps with more specific direction.  But if history is any guide, the final product will be graded on "is it pretty pictures?"

Regardless, my final portfolio assignment for last semester was centred around the idea of a home poker night. Maybe it was burn out, maybe it was laziness, but I just couldn't get the shoot I wanted together. Instead, I went with what I could get. Of the 5 shots I presented, there were only two I really liked, and that was pretty much reflected by the class's reaction.


This one pretty much came out exactly like I wanted. Tight, right angle, shallow depth of field... aces.


This one had the idea exactly right, but something about the shot didn't quite work for me. Maybe the darkness reflected in the bottom of the glass. Maybe the framing. A taller shot might work better. However, I think the intent was strong enough to carry the shortcomings.

Funny thing - I've owned the Godard chip set for years now, but it wasn't opened until this shoot.

Four Days in the Desert - Day 3

Let's see if I can get this one in a single post.

Saturday - Tournament day! We'll get to that.

So, up at the crack of enough-time-for-breakfast. I fire out a "anyone want more Wicked Spoon?" tweet, only be told Maigrey beat me to the punch because it was so awesome the day before. So I tag along with group, getting there about a plate or two in. Still, it's plenty of time to sample what I missed the day before (still very good) and head to the tournament.

See, that wasn't so painful. I pied-pipered the group back through Crystals to the poker room at Aria, signed up both myself and my last-longer team, caught up with some folks, grabbed BrainMC's nuts, and found my seat.

Oh wait... before it all started, we grabbed the group photo.  I played backup photog in a crappy spot, while OhCaptain perched on high to get what I assume are better pictures.  However, here is the best I grabbed.



Who was I seated with? It's been a while, so apologies to the one person I think I'm forgetting.  There was CJ, Drizz, Alcanthang, Maigrey, Jordan's buddy, a couple women I didn't know, eventually WhoJedi I think, and the mystery person my brain refuses to acknowledge even though I knew them.

Anyway, cards in the air, chatter and bounties and all that.  Hey! Jd, rest of the Royal on the board! Awh, couldn't get the final call on the river, showed the stone cold nuts anyway. Up a bit.  Ooo! Aces.  Won a little. Hammer drop (first at the table).  Al saw into my soul when the 7 hit on the turn and wisely folded, yes a legit hammer win.

Then I bled chips for a while... NOBODY got knocked out until PokerVixen saw the rail after the 2nd round. Then people relaxed, knowing they wouldn't own a copy of Gigli.  I went down sometime after the break when I shoved my KK preflop and Al called with AQ because he wanted my bounty (pic of your choice).  JT7 flop. Yah, no doubt here... K on the turn for my set, his nut straight, and I went home.  Seems only fair that I got KO'd by Al (who ran like a god for most of the tournament I hear), a minor bit of retribution for our HU battle a couple years back.  So yet another blogger gets a copy of the Vegas sunrise shot.  I should get on contacting Al about that.

So I'm out. I'm not particularly upset about it. Disappointed, sure, but it's hard to get mad in a friendly game like this one.I wander a bit, tell Dawn that she's the lone shining light for Team Bedrock (BrainMC being KO'd a few minutes before me), and decide to wander a bit.  Back to the room for a bit, and I fire out a text asking where I'm having dinner and with whom.  CK gets back to me pronto and plans are made.

Showered, changed, and back downstairs I once again swing by the tournament, shoot the shit a bit, and go back out on the floor (because watching live poker, even when it's friends, is boring, and I feel like I'm intruding on their play).  I wander by a bank of slots.

Normally, I ignore the video penny slots that nobody understands the workings of. 15 lines? 5 credits per line? No idea what wins? It's basic insanity. But one caught my eye.  "Do you like games with Gladiators?" DO I?? Airplane! The slot machine!

I plunk my ass down, drop $100 in, and bet the max.  BONUS!  Touch a square! Huh? Er... ok... touch.. nothing... touch... nothing.  Touch the right thing -- BONUS!! Touch passengers! Uh... ok... touch... touch... touch... bonus, bonus, bonus. Super bonus! Double bonus! Spinny give me money bonus! I have no idea what's going on, but I keep winning. On my first spin. Oh hell do I like games with gladiators.

When it finally ends, I have something like 18000 credits. Sweet. $180. Seems like a lot of work for $80 though. Wait... that's waaay more than I started with. Oh! It's a nickel machine! $900! Wheee.

So I play it down a bit. Hit another bonus, play that down and cash out. Put in another hundo, hit more bonuses, and cash out. I walk away with around $1100.  That definitely makes up for lack of tournament winning. Airplane! The Slot Machine is awesome.

Dinner isn't until 9:30, so I find more railbirds and chat it up. Numbono, PokahDave, F-Train, etc.. The final table is rocking 50% women, including my teammate Dawn Summers.  I'm hoping the "member of Astin's team wins the tournament" streak continues, but alas, she crushes all my hopes and dreams by going out 4th. Um, I mean... great job Dawn! Congrats to Chilly's friend for taking the whole thing down (right? It's been awhile. There was a chop at 3 I think.)

Wander wander wander.  Bar, slots, bar, tourney.  Chilly taking prop bets on how many toenails he has painted (answer: 1).  Finally, dinner time arrives, I grab my coat and head out with CK, Grange, and CaityCaity to Carnevino.

Never been before.  Will be back in January.  Carol did the ordering with some minor input from the rest of us and the waiter, and the meal was top-notch.

Bison chop, lamb, sweetbreads (my choice, and the most unexciting part of the meal, but I'm spoiled by the best sweetbreads in the world available in Toronto), pastas, carpaccio, crudo, house-cured pastrami, and more. The food was great, the conversation and company better. But isn't that how these WPBT things are supposed to work? Everything we do, the tournament, the outings, the gambling, the dinners, the drinks -- they're all noise around the core purpose of meeting up with awesome people.

Dinner wrapped up, and I finally made it to the IP. The moment I walked in those broken doors, I realized that I hadn't felt like I was in Vegas until right then. The Aria is very nice. The Excalibur is cheesy. Dinners at fancy restaurants are delicious. But with this group, and these trips, the Imperial Palace is home.

And what does one do in the IP? One sits down at a table and plays PAI GOW!!! I can't remember how much I lost there, but it was worth the price of admission to joke around with BrainMC, Maigrey, and the rotating cast of friends showing off their Pai Gow skills. Hours and a few drinks later I plunked down at The Ghostbusters slots because craps was looking too full.  Turns out that Slimer also wants to give me money because I walked up a couple hundred in a game I couldn't seem to lose.

By this time it was about half past ridiculous o'clock in the morning and I grabbed a cab back (the long away around, I REALLY need to pay better attention to the cabbies who are ripping me off) to Aria with Absinthentics and called it a night.

Next up - the final day, a small photo walk, and runners.

1.5 Sleeps

I've been travelling all my life. With dad working for the airlines, and mom teaching geography, it meant a lot of plane rides. This also meant a lot of packing, a lot of early mornings, and a lot of time spent waiting around the gates to see if we would get on the flight with employee passes, or try again later.

Of course, over the last decade or so, most of my travel has been for myself. Among those trips have been 8 to Las Vegas. Thursday will be #9.

And every single one is tinged with excitement. Also, rushing the night before to get my shit together. US cash, passport, clothes, bounties, toothpaste, etc.. It hasn't always gone smoothly.  Two years back I left my whole bankroll, bounties, passport, and casino cards sitting in my nightstand as I rushed out the door to make my flight. Luckily, I realized it as I was standing on the subway platform across the street from my place and was able to retrieve cash and passport, but the rest stayed behind. Which was fine since I didn't need the bounties anyway that year.

So I expect a full sleep tonight, and maybe half of one tomorrow as I pack, prepare, and procrastinate before waking up at 5:30am to make my 9:30 flight.

I'll make up the rest on the way over, and then deprive myself of sleep for the next 4 days.

I fully expect the usual tune to run through my head as the bright light city draws into view.

Staying at the Aria, hoping to swing a photo-worthy view. Then I'm thinking I need a practice run before Saturday, so I'll probably drop my bags off and then head downstairs for the Aria 1pm tourney.  Same buy-in and structure as the WPBT, and I'm crazy rusty.  I figure it's $125 flushed in the name of warming up the poker instincts. Dinner at Jaleo with good company (still 2 seats up for grabs at 6pm if anyone wants in), and then a castle will be stormed.

Friday has some dead neon in it, more dinner, and then some sort of reckless gambling I'm sure.

Saturday I plan to win a tournament, with Team Bedrock (yours truly, Summers, and BrainMC. Hey, you dyslexically steal our name, we'll straight up abscond with yours) finishing 1-2-3, and then play it by ear from there, although there are rumblings involving arcade games that I suck at...

Sunday - ummm.. wake up? Eat? Find people cheering their sportsball game in a large room? Cheer for insane friends who have decided to run down a street in the middle of a desert? And then go home.

I think the only thing on my "want to do" list that isn't covered in here somewhere is grabbing some breakfast buffet at Wicked Spoon at the Cosmo.  I mean, what's Vegas without at least one breakfast buffet to fuel your whole day? Who's in?

Tightening Up

Same shot as previous post, whole new crop.

Getting There

I have a couple weeks still, but I wanted to get this test shot off quickly and see if this idea would even work. There are definitely things to be improved.

 

I think the hole cards need to be moved over a bit, and I might consider coming down to an even lower angle to the table.  The glare on the chips is bothersome, but might be somewhat unavoidable without drastically changing how I want this lit.  I also think some space needs to be put between the hole cards, the pot, and the board - perhaps both from pushing everything back and coming in closer with a wider angle.  Still, I think the shot can be made to work with a bit of effort.

What do you think?  Chances are good the final product will end up as my bounty for the WPBT.  If I don't get it finished before I leave, then I'll just have to send it to my nemesis. My nemesis of course being whoever dares knock me out. So, if you want a bounty you like, I suggest throwing some criticism my way.

Dovetailing

Like many of the bloggers listed over to the left, what posts I put up of late have had little to do with poker.  This one shall marginally rectify that. Key word: "marginally".

What I have been putting up here are photos. Why? Because that's what takes up a decent chunk of my leisure time these days - you know, where poker used to fit.

Anyway, for one course's final assignment, we have to create a portfolio of work concerning a central theme. The concept can be as broad as we like if I understand correctly, but there needs to be some cohesion between the pictures, shot in our own particular style.

I have chosen "poker night" as my theme.

No, no pictures yet. I just decided on the idea a couple days ago.  For you see, this whole semester has seemed to focus on vice in my work.  Quite unintentionally I assure you. Craps with RPG dice, a beer ad, martini glasses filled with liquids of various colours.  Vice.  The fact that I'll be in Vegas smack dab in the middle of this assignment wasn't lost on me either. But I'm not about to cart studio lighting to Nevada so I can get a shot of a bra on an Aria doorknob with a sultry leg disappearing behind the door. I can do that with a regular flash.

So poker night it is. Having been to and hosted a few in my time, I think I have a handle on the required elements.  Chips, felt, cards, button, drinks, chips, money... but no people, I dislike portraiture. The basics are easy. It's the story that becomes tricky.

Do I just present different angles of the setup? Chips with cards in the foreground, a half-drank beer next to a solitary chip, a stack of $20's behind a larger stack of reds? Do I show the night progressing by dwindling and growing stacks and emptying drinks? Or does a more sinister tale get told? A stack growing larger, a third ace slipping on the table, chairs then overturned with a red smear across the ace of spades and the smoking muzzle of a gun just in the frame?

Or is the gun too much?


However I figure it out, this should be a fun project.  Likely a real pain in the ass lighting-wise, but fun nonetheless

WSOP

Hoyazo asked the question that's likely been on many minds since a couple weeks ago. What are the WSOP numbers going to look like?

I think his 3000 number is on the low side for the main event. I'd see in the 4000-5000 range as likely, but with nothing to actually back that up other than gut feelings.

What is really going to suffer is the other 49,000 (give or take 3 orders of magnitude) events. All those $2000 packages and events that the low-limit grinders can work towards. Sure, the broke-dick donkey events will still see plenty of walk-up business, but non-NLHE events will see their numbers drop even more I'd think. Percentage-wise of course.

After all, they online sites will still be running tournaments for WSOP packages, there just won't be as many, and the winners will all be from from outside US borders. I might even look at taking a few longshots, since the fields should be considerably smaller.

I fully expect to see Harrah's running all kinds of cheap satellites at all of their casinos. They'll have to do whatever they can to keep the numbers from being embarrassing. Backers are going to back off, and pros are going to have to budget a bit better. Those who truly play this game as a job will have already adjusted their bankrolls and accounting to compensate for the lack of online play (if US-based, then it's huge, if outside the Dead Zone, than for the lack of US donkeys). Some will focus on smaller fields, avoiding the $10k coin flip altogether. But the allure of that honey (even 3000 runners = $30,000,000 up for grabs) will still draw flies.

So, with properties scattered around the country, and even sneaking north of the border, Harrah's should be running satellites, super-satellites, and promoting the hell out of them. If they were really smart, they'd try and convince a few smaller casinos to run some too. You telling me Trump wouldn't LOVE to have the chance to say one of his properties is "Home to the 2011 WSOP Champion"?

My only question is... who will be around to cover the Series?

The View Of Canada's Shorts

There was, to put it in the most understated way possible, an interesting development in the poker world on Friday. Online poker in the United States, for all intents and purposes, was shut down. I doubt anybody reading here needs the details, but here's a summary for the 3 people who MIGHT not actually follow both poker and this blog.

Bank fraud, money laundering, and illegal gambling operations - three charges brought against 11 individuals, including the founders of Full Tilt and Poker Stars. The .com domain names of Tilt, Stars, and Absolute/UB seized by the FBI and DOJ. These sites quickly blocking all US players from playing real money games to try and cover their asses - too little, too late.

Here in Canada? Annoying pop-up warnings and e-mails from the site to tell us that US players are screwed but we're fine, and to download the software from the .co.uk sites if we're having problems updating.

AA can still get cracked by JQo AIPF on the first hand of a SnG too. So that hasn't changed.

I, unlike seemingly 90% of the poker players out there, am not a lawyer. These days, I'm barely a blogger. But still, I've already surpassed the 140 character limit of Twitter.

In short - this sucks. You already know this. For most of my friends in the poker world, this is a minor inconvenience. Their hobby has been relegated to casinos, card rooms, and home games. For some though, this is a blow to their livelihood. A handful write for, or even run, major poker news sites and blogs. Some are employed directly by the sites that are facing these legal challenges. I send good vibes and best wishes your way, as it's about all I can really do.

For the sites themselves? I feel little pity. If these charges are true, they blatantly broke the law, and did just about the stupidest thing they could have if they had any hopes of legally running their operations in the States.

As has been stated by people closer to this than me - the online poker rooms aren't the issue here. The fraud and laundering are, and they're HUGE. The PPA's statement the other day was so full of stupid it hurt my brain - this has nothing to do with the validity of online poker, but the ways these sites circumvented the law to get their money. Tilt and Stars are doing the right thing by stating their disappointment and otherwise keeping their traps shut.

Does anyone else recall during the Netteller debacle that one of the major concerns of the anti-online-gambling proponents was that they had no control over where the money flowed? Money laundering, fraud, and terrorism were all invoked as the specters faced by those who supported these sites. Well guess what? You've proven them right on two of those counts. You've added fuel to the righteous fire of those paid by the horse racing and anti-gambling lobbies. You've made it much harder for poker to get the status it deserves as a skill game. You're Capone being taken down for tax evasion.

But it will still happen. It just won't be via Tilt or Stars or UB. MGM Poker, WSOP Online, WynnPoker - these will be the clients you'll have available to install. Possibly powered by Zynga. Why? Because these are big US corporations that will say "Look at what we already do! We run casinos across the country and are good corporate citizens and provide American jobs that can't be moved offshore, and you already have all our tax numbers." The government will take it's sweet time deliberating and finessing and wringing of hands about the poor addicts who will gamble away their children's tuition and the milk money, but eventually, in a couple years or so, will allow these good American companies to set up shop online. Maybe with their new identity ecosystem. One ID, multiple sites. Maybe Party comes back a bit after that, with the argument that they obeyed the laws and are publicly traded in a trustworthy country like Great Britain.

If we see anything faster than in 2 years from the casinos? It will raise my suspicion that the casinos had a hand in this. They might not be run by the mob anymore, but that doesn't make the casino business any less dangerous to deal with. The stakes are just much higher.

And maybe, a decade or so down the road, some descendant of Tilt or Stars shows up in Canada's pants again. Humbled, chagrined, and under a heavy yoke of regulation and watchdoggery.

Poker is legal in the States. They'll find a way to put it online legally. More importantly, the government will find a way to make money off it.

In the meantime, there will be lots of satellite stories to follow over the coming months - pros, affiliates, the World Series, and plenty of fear and drama.

Combinatorics

I don't know about you, but when actually start to study a topic I already know something about, I often see the baby flying out in a large splash of bathwater before I pull it back in. Or less terribly-worded, I jump into the new ideas, ignoring what I already know, but eventually find the right combination of new and old experience.

Politics - what's the old saying? You're a democrat until the government takes your money, and then you go republican. I'd like to think that as we become more exposed to life, the intelligent among us start to see the subtleties and realities that we missed in our younger rose-coloured days. We find what we're passionate about, or what makes sense to us, and follow that path. Some eschew all materialism and build a cabin the woods to live off the land while giving all their possessions to an orphanage. Others become birthers who move to a cabin in the woods afraid the gubmint is gonna take their teeth. Most find a happy medium where they develop an opinion about stuff and continue on with their daily lives, adjusting as needed.

Poker? Read Harrington, or Negreanu, go through a thread on a forum about small ball, and our game changes overnight. Suddenly we're playing crap for small bets or checking M constantly to determine if our JTo is push-worthy. Inevitably, sticking "to the book" results in being very easy to read and control. Good players adapt and find some combination of lessons that fits their situation. Changing gears and all that.

We read about someone who took their own path and found a life model that made them rich and successful. Suddenly, what they did is what we're going to do, with no consideration for the differences in our situations. You can't invent a second pet rock and expect it to sell as well as the first.

No, eventually the excitement of our "discovery" of new methodologies wanes, and our old practices start to reassert themselves. These former rivals often find a means of melding into a new outlook that often works better, for us, than either did by themselves.

I'm slowly coming to that stage in photography. I find I'm swinging wildly between old habits and new lessons. I long ago started filtering the information being fed to me through a screen of care/don't care, but now I'm starting to see what's left behind.

We covered portraits a few weeks back, something I've never really done. I learned something - I hate portraits. I can't help but think that a couple pieces of advice from the teacher might have changed that mindset a bit. Even so, posing someone, checking lighting while the subject is in flux, and trying to make a living, breathing, feeling person look good is a collection of things I don't like. If you take a bad picture of a landscape, the landscape isn't going to care, and it will still be where you left it. The whole class was me trying to apply the various points of instruction from the previous week. I was a bit stressed, and fairly unhappy by the end. I looked at the hundreds of shots I took during that session, and was glad I only had to find 5-10, since I dislike most of them. I had applied none of the things I've learned in the past, and my shots look like those of a raw newbie. I'll see what I can fix in post.

But then we did black and white photography - another area I have zero experience in. This time, I had much more fun. I can look back and see various reasons - subjects that don't move or care what their picture looks like, more real-time advice from the instructor, and a bit more comfort in the studio after the portraiture session. But I think the key change was me tossing aside some of the opinions that had been pressed on us and going with what I knew. My tripod was out early and my camera stayed on it. My Promote Control was attached and I was bracketing shots for HDR use later. I switched between prime and zoom lenses as needed (although I pretty much stuck with my macro by the end). I went back into a comfort zone I've known for years and found the right amount of new education to bring in. Looking through the, again, hundreds of images from that session, I loved most of them. I'm in the process of whittling down the count to a displayable number, some HDR, some not.

I think my favourite part of that session was when the teacher was talking to my group towards the end. I had my camera 6ft in the air on the tripod, control in my hand, and I fired off 9 bracketed shots. The "what the hell is he doing?" look crossed the teacher's face, which one of my partners graciously responded to with "HDR" in a tone that said, "he's been doing this all class." El instructo thought for a second, said, "Black and white HDR?" thought some more, and then said "That could be really interesting."

Considering HDR is all about light and texture, the same areas that B&W focuses on, I had thought the same thing.

Favourite shot from the session so far:

Poker? Here?

Another month goes by, so I should post again. Plus, I've somehow managed a few links from other blogs today it seems. Best to use that traffic, right?

There's always plenty rattling around this head o' mine, but I obviously have been sending it out in snippets on Twitter more than the long-form this area is better suited for.

So let's talk Poker. After all, this is, nominally at least, a poker blog.

(I feel I should link the word Poker to some site... how about this one)?

I played in the Mookank (Dankie? Daokankie?) last night, I believe my first appearance since this Donkey Island Survivor Poker thing started. Not that I'm part of either team or in any way involved (unless I am Julius Goat, in which case I'm chin deep in it). But hey, more people playing! More fun! And also, I kind of miss poker, even though I've sucked HARD at it the few times I've played the past few months.

So I signed up and kicked ass. Right up until Bam Bam left the rail and I got my 3rd pocket rockets - except this time they didn't hold up and went down in flames to a rivered set of Jacks. Out 14th. But before that, I was bluffing, and trapping, and catching, and playing like a jerk and winning, and all that fun stuff I do so love about the game. Still, I have informed the Bammer that he has been exiled from the province of Ontario (he can still visit) and must now spend his days in sunny Saskatchewan, where an eye can be kept on him from a safe distance. That's right, jinx me at the online felt by leaving to get a scotch and you'll find yourself in the corn field.

If nothing else, it primed the pump for Poker Stars' $5 mill anniversary game this Sunday. As Drizz pointed out - how often does a Lambo get to park in my garage? (Answer: not often). The $1 mil wouldn't be too shabby either, if not exactly enough to retire on. I should just have to navigate 50,000 other donkeys or so and I'll be just fine. Maybe I should take Monday off now so I can rest after my epic run ending in my 49,936th place finish. 200-some dollars well spent for sure.

Back to Donkey Survivor - congrats to Goat on a well-executed concept. For now at least, our wee little group has seem revitalized. With nothing particularly serious on the line, the trash-talk, blog posts, and general fun of our online meetings has grown again. Thanks to Buddydank too for keeping the home fires burning as the Mookiedank dwindled to a 2-table home game. Let's hope the yeoman work he and the rest of the BDR crew put in every week pays off with people sticking around again this time. Oh, and while I'm at - good on Hoyazo for keeping the pot stirred during all this. Even after getting KO'd early on, he's posting novellas about the games and so-called strategy coming into play. Now if we could only get the synopses back up...

Year in Review

- I didn't post much
- I tweeted a bunch
- I didn't play much poker. When I did, I lost.
- I travelled - Montreal, New York, Buffalo a bunch, Orlando, Montreal again, Vegas.
- In most of those places, I ate some fantastic food. Orlando wasn't anything spectacular on that front.
- I didn't cook nearly as much as I should have. Especially nothing new or exciting.
- I took a ton of pictures. I've so far posted almost none of them.
- I saw Dawn Summers, Mary, and VinNay more than most of my non-blogger friends
- I took some photography classes, and learned that 3 per week is too much for me. Down to 1 per week next semester.
- I lost in Vegas money-wise, but won friends and food-wise.

Come 2011?

Probably more of the same. Already planning another trip to Montreal (they have such good food), and Vegas is permanently in the schedule. The rest is pretty open right now. Maybe I'll try and play more poker and actually work on and post some pics - there are so many I want to share. I also expect to be cooking a whole bunch more soon. Let's start simple with some fondue and egg nog for New Year's. I make awesome nog.