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.

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?

Somehow Busy

Right, it's summer. So that means there's always something going on 'round these parts. Toronto can get downright dreary during the winter, so it squeezes as much as it can into the summer. Not that I've been partaking in too many of the city's offerings either.

Bloggers dropping in for international birthdays, my local friends having the gall to have their own birthdays on top of that, and endless stream of movies to see, farmers markets providing an every-cycling range of fresh produce that has to be turned into meals, Jays games, poker games, days too nice to waste inside, and just the day-to-day stuff that takes up time... when I have nothing to do, it comes as a relief.

Except "nothing" translates to either doing some photo editing or playing my way through am ever-increasing backlog of video games (damn you and your sales Steam!). Both of which fall under the category of "leisure" and relaxing.

So, some pics... then maybe I'll get to finishing my writeup on Happy Gilmore for Filmchaw's continuing (and drawn-out) 90's character challenge... yah, I'm the guy holding up this round. Sorry.

I was at my first Jays game of the season on Sunday. Robbie Alomar Hall of Fame day. First Jay in the Hall as a Jay (others not as a Jay include Dave Winfield, Paul Molitor, Rickey Henderson, and Phil Niekro - all of whom have obviously stronger affiliations with other teams). Great crowd, and has me missing the glory days.

I opted to not bring my SLR this time, as I knew the place would be sold out and I'd worry about the camera too much. So the iPhone came into play.





I'm not a huge fan of the camera by itself on the phone due to how noisy it is, but it's easily replaced my point and shoot for the "better to have any photo than no photo" moments.

But I need to get out for a real shoot again soon, because apparently I feel the need to increase my backlog of photos I'd really like to finish off an post. The other question is, "where?" I'll keep my Flickr account, but I'm thinking maybe 500px might be worth a look for my favourite pics. Flickr is just falling behind on features, layout, and monetization.

Alright, enough rambling.

Golden Hammer Thoughts

I had just finished up a solid dinner with my posse, and had some time to kill before we dropped off two of our group at the airport for the Saturday red-eye. There was a call for more gambling, which I was not against, but I informed them that first I wanted to check in on the tournament, now heading into hour 9.

Last year's game finished around 11. The year previous, with a larger field, I bubbled in 10th around the same time. At 9pm, I figured the game was still far from over.

We walked in as a break was winding down and the remaining six were milling about the table waiting to start up again. I was happy to see so many familiar faces still in the game. And even though we were long eliminated thanks to my inability to win a damn hand, seeing teammate MiamiDon with a big stack in front of him was great.

Now, having gone deep the previous two years, I know how much of a grind it can be. I don't know if there was a dinner break this year, but there wasn't the previous. I was hungry, tired, and frankly a little sick of playing poker for so long for both my runs. My friends were out drinking and rolling dice and eating and generally having more fun than me, and the longer the game went, the more I wanted to be out there with them. Hell, both years I missed the chance to see one of my buddies off to the airport.

But I would have never chopped for the trophy.

Al made the offer to JoeSpeaker and myself the previous year when we were three-handed. "Chop, but I get the trophy!" No way. Joe and I looked at each other incredulously. How could Al make that offer? We'd happily chop the cash 3-ways, or even give Al a premium since he was in the lead at the time, but we were playing for the trophy. One a year gets handed out, and the list of champions is still short. Al refused to chop if he didn't get the Golden Hammer handed to him. So I ended it with, "That's the sort of thing someone who doesn't think they can win it on their own would say."

Now, I don't fault Don for offering the chop, or taking it. Hell, if I was in a dominant lead, I'd put it out there, expecting nobody to take it. Negotiating requires you to ask for more than you think you'll get, because what will you lose? Plus, Don had a very healthy stack of orange chips in front of him, and it could be argued that he was the most feared player at the table. But for FIVE other people to say "sure, no problem" without even an ATTEMPT at negotiation? Nobody even tried to talk him down on the cash - why not say, "You get 2nd place money minus whatever puts the rest of us at 3rd place cash?"

Cash aside, only ONE person (and I don't even know who he is) said, "I kinda want the trophy." Which he quickly followed with, "But I'm good with the chop." Don even put it out there that he was happy to play on if ANYBODY didn't like the chop. Nobody spoke up. I get the shortstacks taking the deal, their chances of getting past 5 other players slim, but that leaves 3 other players who had a legitimate shot at the championship who shrugged and went with it.

Poker is a grind, and after 9 hours, I get the desire to stand up and leave with over a grand in your pocket. Bills to pay, losses to cover, people have their reasons for wanting or needing the money. But this wasn't the noon $150 tournament, this was the WPBT Winter Classic, which I THOUGHT was a championship coveted by our little group. I was PROUD to have won the trophy outright, and would have been ashamed if I'd taken the money instead of trying to take the championship. Hell, if even ONE person had spoken up and said "No, I didn't just put most of my Saturday into this to not take a shot at the Hammer," and been talked into the chop by the rest, then someone could have held their head up. Instead, a few hundred extra bucks locked in was enough to toss pride aside.

Don made a big play without a single card and won. He won the trophy and the tournament with one last big bet. Do I think that's a deserving way to win a championship? No. Do I feel it tarnishes the win? Yes. Do I fault him for taking it? No. I probably would have done the same in Don's position, because I would have never expected FIVE of our crew to agree to such a ridiculous offer. Everyone who said yes though? You come off as a sellout.

WPBT Report

I was there for five days, but I think it can be recapped in one post. Forgive the lack of links, I may add them when I get home.

Let's get the crap out of the way first - down. Down a bunch. Atlantic City levels of down. I don't think I won a damned thing. Craps? Hundos on the table, walking away empty-handed. Pai Gow? Down a couple, but most games were the expected break-even with +EV in drinks. Let it Ride? If not a for a 3-card set of jacks, I'd be swearing off the game. Poker? AA once in the tournament (where I went out in 86th) was the only notable hand in all the poker I played. Although I was up $23 in the MGM mixed game. Slots? Well, I'd better be getting some good offers from the broke-ass casino companies this year after the number of max-bet button presses on my cards without a cash-out.

So, totally negative on the gambling front.

Big deal.

I was still under my loss limit.

And it was more than made up for by the real reason I went - to see you people.

By "you people", I mean you. And you. But not you, because you didn't go.

As has been the case for every winter gathering I've attended (4 and counting), I had a small entourage of local friends in my wake. The regulars - M, N, and E were joined by a couple Vegas virgins - M2 and S. In years past, I've had small regret for having a posse with me, as they haven't necessarily integrated with the larger group well, which has left me torn between groups.

This year, I went where I wanted, and it worked out better. Local friends ditch the $10 table for the $5? Tough, I've got Otis on my right, and Chilly and Bayne on my left. I'm not going anywhere. Drizz, Maigrey, and Gus show up to make it even better.

Hey guys, I'm teaching you Pai Gow. I can't believe that worked considering one of them doesn't drink and another doesn't drink much. Talk about -EV.

You want to stay in the room instead of gamble? Have fun, I have a tournament to rail and a drunken Gus is too much fun to NOT join his craps table.

Got to meet BrainMC (world's worst Pai Gow player), xkm1245 (who I think was stalking me, dude seemed to be everywhere), NumbBono, PokerVixen, 23Skidoo, Josie (who I like because she called me skinny), and more. Probably played with even more people I didn't know without realizing it. Sorry to Wolfshead for not introducing myself at the mixed game - I was full of Robuchon and gambling angst and didn't think to make a formal introduction.

Then of course, there's my fellow Canucks - Katitude and Joanne1111. Only seeing Joanada in Vegas makes sense as Calgary ain't exactly next door. But Kat? We really need to start meeting up somewhere between the 20 minutes between our respective homes - I think 10 minutes is much more reasonable :). Then there's kinda-Canadian BuddyDank who was the first blogger I saw this year, and who I have just now decided I will blame for my early ousting from the tournament, as I spent most of my time chatting with him. Obviously, he drained all my good luck to make it to the 6-way chop.

Speaking of Canadians - OhCaptain's (from South Ontitoba, aka Minnesota) Bourbonators never really came together, but he DID get his group shot before the tournament and a bottle of Bowmore to bring to the next Eh-Vegas! Always good to see the cap'n.

Then there's VinNay and Dawn and Mary, who I've seen more than any other bloggers (and most of my local friends) this year. Amazingly, we still had some stuff to talk about, be it of substance or not. Although Mary and I seemed to be on different schedules and barely crossed paths.

I FINALLY played craps with Bayne after about 6 coincident visits to Vegas. That one's ticked off the list, and replace with "do it again, and win this time."

CK made it out to Robuchon this year! No crappy deals that never got done to keep her away from the best meal in Vegas. And for those who DIDN'T see her at the mixed game after? She cleans up great - who knew she even had a dress and heels? You'd barely know she was a deadly poker machine.

Al, Pauly, Iggy, CJ, Drizz, Falstaff, April, April, Garth, Gnome, MiamiDon, JoeSpeaker and many, many more - it was great to see you, however briefly.

I even managed to make it to Legasse's this year. Later than planned, but there was something great about walking into that suite, packed with people I knew, and some I hadn't even realized were there. Free swag from Full Tilt was icing on the cake. I'll have to start using my pool to justify the sandals...

And the food! I might have lost at the various gambling tables, but the dinner tables were nothing but win.

Sage = fantastic food, and an amazing value for a nice dinner. 3 course tasting menu, wine or beer pairing, and appetizer upgrade all for $140? In Vegas? Worth it. Oh, and our waiter was amazing - he rolled with our jokes (we were in town for a quilting bee) and was great for a laugh or six himself.

Delmonico's = still making the steaks right. Two years in a row now we've been put at the front of the restaurant - which is dark and sucks. Service has dropped off since our first visit 4 years back as well - it's by no means bad, but it used to be above and beyond. But they still know how to cook a solid piece of meat. The $25 corkage fee for our excellent self-brought wine was also very reasonable.

Robuchon - what can I say that I didn't last year? Awesome. With the new experience shine off from last year for half of us, I worried if I'd oversold it to myself. Nope. Still 16 courses of perfect food and impeccable service. Worth every penny. Hell, I'd lost more at craps the first night. Our sommelier being Canadian was a pretty nice touch too. Seriously, if you can afford it, do it at least once.

Julian Serrano - Last minute "well, we're all out of the tournament" dinner. Very nice tapas. Reasonable prices. I've certainly had better tapas in Toronto, but the dishes here ranged from good to "bring us another of those". The waiter was also incredibly friendly, and seemed genuinely happy to have served us. The fact he found a stamp-collector in our group, and he was an active one himself, certainly helped.

Legasse's - You'd be hard-pressed to find better food at a sports bar anywhere. Considering it was the only meal I ate between then and lunch the next day, it was welcome.

The last time I was down this much, N and I left Atlantic City with grumbles and vows to never return. Looking back, I can't believe how much fun I had while flushing cash down the felt toilets in Vegas. A huge thank you to everyone who was there, and a double thanks to Al, April (and her local cohorts), and CJ for taking care of all those logistical things that made it extra special.

Next year? Need to cram in a photowalk, and also get that indoor skydiving thing done. There's also the Jose Andres restaurants opening up this week at the Cosmopolitan. I task the Vegas locals to check those out for me and report back ASAP.

Gravy (WPBT)

This isn't about politics... just the next paragraph.

It's a word that in my fine city has become a punchline. Our current mayor's cries to "stop the gravy train" have infused connotations onto a word that is usually associated with deliciousness.

But dammit, I loves me my gravy! And you know what? Next week will be full of it!

Because next week is Vegas! A week tomorrow is when I sit my ass down to defend my Golden Hammer Trophy from over 100 challengers. You know what else? The pot just keeps getting more tasty with delicious gravy!

Poker Stars has increased their team last-longer prize from last year! Now Full Tilt has stepped up to grow our prize pool AND cover food at Sunday's football-watching extravaganza. Man, I wish that $100 bubble prize was there two years ago when I was that guy. On top of all that, both Tilt and Stars are putting bounties on people in the tournament! $100 or $50 depending on the sponsor, and hell, that could be $150 depending on overlap of bounties! AND a Hammer Challenge from Stars! $50 for winning post flop with the hammer? They should just throw money at the tables!

Between my inevitable repeating as champ, the 1-2-3 finish of Team "Astin is Awesome" (that's our name, right guys?), and me knocking out EVERYONE, with THE HAMMER, this will be a very profitable tournament for yours truly.

Let's be honest, I'm going home with a copy of Gigli and a hangover.

Plus, poker lessons before the tournament! I mean, let's face it... if I can win this thing everyone else must REALLY suck, and could only benefit from this opportunity.

Thanks to Sir AlCantHang and El Luckbox for putting this delicious topping together for us sorry degenerates.

I am figuratively bursting at the seams with anticipation for this trip. I always look forward to Vegas, but this year, it's also a real vacation from life for a few days. Everything else?

Gravy.

Bounty

I'll probably bring a few random trinkets with me to the Winter Gathering. Hammer keychains and the like.

But Oh Captain reminded me of what I had planned this year's bounty to be.

This of course:


Now I just have to print it, frame it, and pack it. I'm thinking of throwing in a full-sized TIFF of the image to, so whoever knocks me out can use it for their own personal, non-commercial purposes. Maybe.

Oh, who am I kidding? I'll have to reward it to the best Pai Gow player or something, since I'm winning the whole damned tournament again.

Was Worried, But Now Not

My job changed a little while ago. More responsibility. Generally good.

But I had a fear.

Would this mean I couldn't go to Vegas?

My annual trip? Where I have a non-refundable flight? And a hotel room booked in my name, and a roomie who could be stranded? What about the dinner reservations in my name? Will they be lost?

Apparently. No. Because I'm still going.

Whew.

2 weeks from now I'll be airborne and probably over Minnesota or something, heading to the land of wallet-draining fun. The excitement over this is rising daily.

I can't wait to see all those degenerates that used to blog about poker. Like me. It's always a reinvigorating experience to slap some cash down on a -EV table game while knocking back concoctions designed to part you from your money even faster. Good decisions? Maybe getting vitamin C from a Greyhound will count as one.

One other one would be finding a third for my last longer team. There's me, VinNay (who I COULD link to, but he hasn't blogged in... forever)... and... you? Let's face it, Vin's got skills and math, I've got horseshoes in places backscatter x-ray machines can't find, AND am the defending Golden Hammer Champion, how could you not want to be on our team? Hell, my team came in 3rd last year, despite what the official record says, and one of our guys went out in the 60's!

This thing... let's do it.

Why I Miss Live Poker

Played in a $500 tournament last weekend. 7.5 hours to finish 14th 0f 68, where 6 got paid. Can't say it wasn't frustrating.

Can't say I played particularly well either. I started with a table I SHOULD have been able to run over if I had either cards or chips. Sadly, I had neither of those things. I had hoped to build a tight image, and be able to show a decent hand or two before taking advantage of that, but no decent hands came my way until the second break. Needless to say, my tight image was established, but by then my chips didn't mean as much. I treaded water for most of the game, got some chips and slowly bled them away again. In the end, I made a tactical error with snowmen, followed by presto going down to a turned two pair on the board and my opponent holding the ace. I hate that.

But this isn't about my flushing away of money. This is about missing live poker.

When I sat down, I immediately started observing my table. I watched every hand, no matter how quickly my cards were in the muck. I watched one guy shake like a leaf whenever he was holding a decent non-nut hand, scared that he was behind. I watched the table chipleader's hands tense up whenever he had to really think about something, be it chasing a draw or figuring out his value bet. The new guy couldn't stop breathing like he'd run a marathon when he was bluffing, and made obvious value bets when he was ahead. The aggressive guy might as well have played his AK like it was face-up, but I happily paid him off the minimum to make sure. In short, it was a table full of tells and plays that I could read like a book, and I was aware of all of them. I was engaged in the table, watching for every sign and read I could get, while trying to minimize any of mine that I didn't want to purposely give off.

Online? Not a chance. I take the odd note, but can't commit to watching bet timing, sizing, and tendencies of other players. Too many distractions, and not nearly enough on the line to care. But live, it's always good to know my reads are still good.

And then there's the conversations. Nobody has a casual conversation in the chat window, but live? One guy explaining the concept of M to another, without knowing what it's called or where it comes from. The other guy coming back with how he just goes by big blinds. Both revealing their panic zones, and hints to their ranges in those times. Thanks guys.

There was the guy talking about how bad Joe Cada was at the cash table he was at in Vegas last week. Others sharing bad beat stories, and WSOP hands, and analysis on all of it. Thanks guys.

Sharing info on the other regulars at the table gives me, the out-of-town new guy, info I couldn't hope to have had otherwise. Thanks for that. My ears are quite good.

And where else can you see Q7 vs KK win when the Q comes down on the x7xx board and EVERYONE at the table obviously knew it was coming? Not the 7, but the Q. No bullshit "I knew that was coming", because it was in everyone's eyes when the cards flipped over on the turn. And oddly, nobody claiming live poker is fixed, even the poor guy walking away.

Not that live poker isn't without its distractions too - my favourite hand, which I wasn't involved in:

Bets and calls pre, 2 spades on the flop with a J. Bet, raise, call. Spade on the turn, check check. Ace of spades on the river... and the very hot drink girl comes by to bring first-to-act his beer. He turns to pay her (no freebies in Canada folks), and then remembers he's still in the hand and asks her to wait a sec. Sees the 4th spade and checks. Turns back to pay, other guys checks. Cards are flipped over - first to act has KsKx, second has QsJx. Yes, that's right, the nut and second nut flush both checked on the river. Neither realizing what they had until the cards had been flipped. Ks had been distracted by a bigger pair bringing him beer, and Qs had forgotten he held the spade. What SHOULD have been a monster pot was a bust. I told the Qs he owed the cocktail waitress a tip.

I really need to get to some real poker tables more often...

Defended Champion

It's been far too long since I've written about poker here. That's largely because I've been stinking up the joint online with my play. Luckily, these seems to still indicate that I should be playing live.

Last night, I did. My regular home game series had their 2009 ToC last night, after around 4 or 5 reschedules to get as many of the top-9 in as possible. We managed 8 runners. The number of winners in the last season was smaller than previous years due to one one guy taking down the first two games, and the host winning three games himself. I won one, a newbie won another, and the rest of the ToC was made up of top money earners who garnered numerous 2nd and 3rd place finishes.

In short, numbers were down a bit this season, but those that did play, had some skill.

But I, of course, had to play, having won last year's ToC and needing to remind these guys WHY I was the champ.

Rebuy for the first 4 levels, as usual. First hand was KJs, which I took down with a J on the board. Next hand? A couple black aces. I managed to lure the host into shipping me his stack and I was off to a fine start.

I got a bit cocky a few times and gifted chips to people with cards that should never have seen a limp, let alone a bet or flop. After a couple rebuys and the break looming, I decided I had to play the ultimate in strategy - "What would that guy over there do?"

There's a regular at these games who plays decently enough, but is often the butt of our jokes because he gets so ridiculously emotional and eventually develops an Eeyore-like sense of self-pity. So my strategy becomes - do whatever he does. If he folds, I fold. If he calls, I call. He raises? I raise. He goes all-in? I go all-in.

I doubled through him.

Blind.

I won a few more small pots by following his lead, and saved myself some chips by folding when he folded even though I had hands I'd normally risk seeing a flop with.

When the rebuy period ended, I was sitting in the middle of the pack and dropped the strategy that had worked thus far - ie.- I was now playing my game again, now that the ridiculous period was over.

Two hands are what kept me going in this section.

The first was nearly disastrous for me. N was playing, and also happened to be my ride. He was incredibly short-stacked and eventually went all-in UTG. I was on his left and looked down at K6s, 7-handed. I said, "I have a dilemma. If I call and win, I'm not getting a ride home. But this hand is bad enough that I could call to double him up to keep my ride around." So I called.

Then 3 more people called.

A6x on the flop. Q turn. 6 river. Trips for me. I cursed a bit under my breath. N had A4 for top pair, and he had everyone beat... but me. I took the whole pot, N stood up, shook my hand, and wished me luck in winning cab fare. Then he left.

It took about 20 minutes for everyone to clue in - "Wait, he REALLY was your ride?"

"Yup."

"So you have to cab it home?"

"Yup."

"Don't you live downtown?" (we were 41.7km, or about 26 miles away, in another city)

"Yup. It's not a cheap fare."

"Shit."

"Yup."

We kept playing. I had a stack now. I knew I could win my taxi driver's pay.

The next hand that came saw me looking down at AKh with a limp in front of me. I min-raised. Me+2 went all-in for another min-raise. The SB opted to call, the BB folded, and the original limper got out of the way.

The main pot was set, the side was dry.

One heart on the flop, 6-high. Check. Check.

Qh on turn. I bet around 1/2 the pot. SB thinks, thinks, thinks... and goes all-in over top, for an amount that I had to call. I call. A pittance left behind. Cards come over.

SB has a 6, I have a flush draw, original all-in has pocket tens. I ask for the heart... and it hits. TT is PISSED because he's the tightest player at the table and hadn't played a hand in ages. Guess what? When you wait for that playable hand to the point where your chipstack can't scare a smurf, you're going to lose more than you win.

I'd knocked out two more guys and we were down to 4 and the bubble.

And man, did these guys hang on to that bubble. Shorties doubling up more than a few times. One was my fault, as he'd gone all-in for exactly the BB, and I, in the SB, had missed that it was an all-in and not a limp. So I folded. The bubble would have popped had I called.

Eventually though, the host went down. Then I took out the 3rd place guy with some mediocre hand that was better than his mediocre hand.

I was at last heads-up with the guy I'd wanted to beat the whole game. He was aggressive at times, but mostly not as good as he thought. He was the newbie who'd won a game earlier in the season. I didn't like his game then either, and knocked him out the next game I saw him in.

This time, he'd managed to amass a stack during the rebuy period. Much of it from me. One or two decent pots in the second half of the game gave him chips. Which he proceeded to do nothing with. Other than the occasional blinds, or "have-to" call of an all-in, he sat back and donated. This was trend that continued when we got heads-up. Any aggression from me was met with a fold. Regardless of position, board texture, or bet size. This made it really easy to throw away cards when he'd play back.

Eventually, he let me in cheap and I saw trips on the flop. I slowplayed him, got him all-in, and then discovered we were chopping the pot as he'd flopped the same trips I had. Sigh.

A few hands later though, I saw 66, and decided it was good enough to go to war with him. His A4o caught nothing at all, while I had a flush on the river to drive home my victory with authority.

Cab fare won, and I remain the ONLY ToC champion on that trophy.

To top it off? The first guy out had stuck around to watch Team Canada take apart Norway in hockey, and happens to live a few blocks away from me. So I got a ride home after all.

Numbers

1 = My finish
12 = E's finish
3rd number = N's finish.

60=What I was told
60's=What he thought (so max is 69)
86=Worst possible finish (which wasn't him)

Just being passive-aggressively prodding.

Some Math

1 + 12 + 60 = 73

73 < 78

Alternate #1:

1 + 12 + 69 = 82

82 < 86

Alternate #2:

1 + 12 + 86 = 99

99 < 105

Obviously, something has been missed.

WPBT Report - Day 4, or where I kick your ass

Day 4. Saturday. The last day of consequence for me. The biggest of 'em too. This will be a long one.

First though - the view from my room as I returned the first night/morning




Up for the Bellagio buffet breakfast, I roped Kat, Lightning36, JJOK, and OhCaptain into it with myself and E (N & M off golfing in the cold rain). It just doesn't feel right to do Vegas without at least one buffet.

We talked, we ate, we talked, and then went off to prepare for the tournament in our own way. For me, E, and JJ, that meant walking from the buffet to Caesars.

The tournament kicked off, and I was 100% zen. I had no expectations, and just wanted to have fun. In fact, I knew I wouldn't mind busting out early because it would mean more time hanging with the other bloggers who were done.

That didn't quite happen.

Here's a quick hand recap from the beginning of the tourney to the final table:

crap, crap, more crap, crap, not quite crap so I'll raise, oh re-raise? fold, crap, crap, KK - raise and win blinds, crap, crap, nada, nothing, zip, zilch, crap, crap, 1-gapper raise, called, get bet out on broadway flop, crap, crap, shit, crap, more crap, what the hell is this crap? AQ - raise, get blinds, crap, crap, where are my chips? AJ raise, get re-raised, fuck it, all-in over the top for less than the re-raise, you folded? Sweet. Crap, crap, crap, crap, table change, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, garbage, small pair all-in with the short stack, double up and survive, crap, crap.... etc...

You get the picture. It was a game of pushing with an M of 3 and whatever I had holding up to keep me alive a bit longer. Any strong hands tended to win the blinds alone, and I caught nothing on the board. The first hour was so useless to me that I tore up my Bellagio buffet receipt and folded some origami card cappers (a crane and frog). I commented that I needed 999 more cranes to win the damned thing.

N went out somewhere in the 60's (69th according to him, 60th according to CJ), which pretty much kiboshed hopes of winning the last longer. Nobody could beat Team Roach (congrats guys!). E went out 12th with KJ losing to Alceste's aces or something, just before Change100 bubbled the final table.

And just before E and Change went down to put us at a final 10, I managed to double through AlCantHang (his second double up for me in the game). Q6s or something similar against AJs or something similar from him. I caught a card and it held. It's one of the few hands I remember, along with presto catching a set on the flop earlier to save my ass, and pocket 3's making it through an all-in on the flop from me and scaring off people who should have called.

No aces so far, by the way.

The highlight to this point was my second table. Pauly, Iggy, Garth, Maigrey, Obie, Smokkee, Blinders, Bayne... and someone else I can't recall. Blinders went out and was replaced with AlCantHang. Talk about the TV table! I figured that table was as good as any to double up at. I did a couple times, but only to survive.

Leading to the final table, I was barely above water. 40k in chips was not nearly enough at 4000/8000/1000. But we made that final 10 and the blinds were rolled back to 1500/3000/400 for some serious breathing room added. From here I had one goal - build a big stack. I knew I could take this down if I could get enough chips to take some risks and push the table around at the right times.

The bubble was tight, but it was quickly decided that we'd all chip in $10 for the bubble. Chilly got $90 to nearly break even when he went out in 10th.

Once we were in the money, my game shifted a bit. I could now take those risks without necessarily having a monster stack. It wasn't that I thought the $200 for 9th was big money, but that I'd just beat my bubble-boy performance of the previous year. 10th sucks.

So I stole some blinds, took some shots at flops, and kept ahead of the blinds as much as anyone could with the insane "get the hell out" structure that we'd hit at this point.

What was most surprising was how long the final 9 held out. Nobody was going out. Nobody was risking a significant portion of their stack to call a short all-in, because you just couldn't afford it with those levels.

I can't remember how everyone went out, but we lost Elissa, by far the best looking one at the table, in 9th. That was a loss for everyone. I blame The Rooster for distracting her with his manly charms.

Anyway, eventually people started dropping out. It was just a matter of time. Somewhere in there I knocked out someone, took some bigger pots with the right moves at the right time, and found myself as chipleader with 8 to go, then again with 5 to go, and I generally stayed up there.

By far my best played hand was against Gnome. He'd been using some timely aggression preflop to take blinds and antes, and had c-bet with some success when he actually saw a flop. He'd chased me off at least one hand earlier, and ran some air into a decent Al hand to reveal his range.

He raised preflop from the button, around 2.5x the BB, and I looked down to T8d in the BB. I called. Flop came J87 with two spades. I was pretty sure I was ahead here, and was sure he'd bet into a check from me. So I checked. He thought for a second and checked behind.

Hrmm... turn brought Qs, and I thought briefly about him having hit. I opted to check with every ounce of body language that said *I* had hit it. He started debating. I started wondering how I'd deal with a bet here. He reached for some chips and counted out a few, running them through his fingers. I put him on air, and knew he wasn't sure about me either. He put down the chips and checked.

River was a T. I didn't like this one. It gave me two pair, but also put the straight out there if he had a 9, or AK, along with the three spades on the board. But I had played this whole way with the intent of checkraising his action into me, and still had a hard time accepting he had anything. If he had hit the Q on the turn, it wasn't enough to keep him in, and he knew it. He was short enough that he could risk a bet, but not a call of a re-raise if he wasn't positive he had this. No, he had air... I checked.

And he bet 40k.

I paused, counted out the 40 while debating on the size of my raise. I wanted enough to get him out, but also wanted to leave enough behind that I could fold if he came over the top himself. 50k on top seemed like a good number. It was too much for him to just call, enough for me to leave on the table, but also enough that it looked like I was committed if he did raise. It said "I've got this and want you to call this bet..." It wasn't quite a value bet, and it was a semi-bluff even though I was almost positive he didn't have anything.

And he folded. There were plenty of mumblings around the table of what I had, if I'd just pulled off a monster bluff, or if I had the stone cold nuts there. That might have been almost as good a feeling as winning the whole thing. Especially since I have a ton of respect for Gnome's game. It was easily my favourite hand of the tournament.

Eventually, we got to 3-handed between myself, JoeSpeaker, and AlCantHang. Two guys proclaiming their drunkenness, one making sure we knew he was colour blind, and me. Both these guys were dangerous though. Speaker had been hanging back and using his whole stack strategically. Strong preflop raises and re-raises, and pushes for c-bets that were working. Al was happily shoving and raising seemingly at random, but he had enough chips to make it work.

And I realized exactly what I had to do.

Play them against each other.

But first, we had a chop discussion. With $4800 in the pot for top 3, and 7 1/2 hours of play behind us, it wasn't a bad idea. Joe and I were good with a straight up split, as only 10k separated us, and we'd even toss Al a premium as he had about 1/3rd more chips than us. But Al wanted the trophy too, and that was non-negotiable. We were playing for the trophy, not just giving it up. Al refused to chop without the Golden Hammer in the deal, and I decided it was time to start talking.

"No worries, that sounds like the kind of thing someone who doesn't think they can win it on their own would say."

That got Al ready to rumble. There was laughter and "ooooos" from the rail. Someone asked if we're going to go Canada vs America, to which I had only one response - "Find five more Americans to sit at the table and we'll call it an even match."

Game on.

The three of us passed around chips. There were walks, position raises, and some legitimate hands that got bet and shown. Al and I were pretty evenly matched stack-wise and I wasn't getting much I wanted to tangle with him with. But I also happened to be sitting directly across from him, and could tell when he was planning on pushing his stack in the middle. I avoided at least two bluffs and bet with a small pair from the button by reading his intentions. Twice Speaker bet into him only to have to fold to Al's push, and the third time Al grumbled about getting a walk and flipped over an ace.

The downside of this is that I wasn't winning more than I was losing, and my stack was shrinking. I needed something that could stand up to an Al all-in (a regular occurrence by now). This is the time when you learn who your real friends are.

And they came to my defense in a BIG way. I was in the BB, looked down, and saw my old buddies A and A looking right back at me. I'm pretty sure they winked too. They'd been holding out the whole game so they could show up when it counted the most. Al pushed from the SB and I instacalled, flipping over my rockets to a round of "oh BIG surprise! Astin has Aces." from the peanut gallery.

They held... they more than held, they brought along another of their ilk on the flop, killing all drama for the hand and announcing to the world that they had my back.

I was now the monster stack.

Al got pushy again, as Speaker picked his spots. Then Al says, "all-in in the dark" from the SB. I look down at K3o. Al starts with "instacall! You have a King? Insant!" I wait. Is he really in the dark? Is K3 worth it for 1/4 of my stack and a courtesy double-up for the biggest wildcard at the table? I'm leaning towards "no" when he peeks and says "Oh, I have an ace." I fold. He flips over AQ. In the dark my ass.

A few hands later, he tries again. "All-in in the dark." Sigh. I look down at A9o. Good enough, I call. "I have a pair." Pocket 4's from Al hold up and he's doubles while I drop 1/4. We're close again, and Speaker is letting us fight it out.

It goes between the 3 of us for a while, and Al and I are really close in chips, when I bet with A6o and he goes all-in. I think about it. I put him on nothing particularly good. In fact, I figure my ace is good. He isn't as strong as he was with his "in the dark" bets, and is hoping to get rid of me here.

I call.

Al flips over KJo, and we're away to the races. My ace hits the turn, and Al is livid. "CON-GRAT-ULATIONS! You just won the blogger tournament!" "Ace-six? Ace-six!" "What about me told you your ace-six was good?" Okay, livid isn't the right word. Tilted might be, and it wasn't even entirely from that hand. But my instincts told me I was good there, and I've lost more by ignoring those instincts than by following them.

Al is about to leave when I point out we're pretty close. Turns out Al had me beat by 4000 chips... or an ante.

Al's ante goes in, I call the BB, Speaker completes his SB. Al triples up.

Al ends up all-in with the SB, and I'm auto-in with my BB, Speaker folds. I had crap, and Al had better crap. Al doubles up.

Joe has the BB in, Al goes all-in, I look down at AKo. Speaker says he only has a few thousand behind, so I put him in, and he calls. Al has presto, Speaker has a dominated ace. Presto is gold and Al triples up, I get the remainder of Speaker's chips, and we're HU for the Golden Hammer. GG to JoeSpeaker.

We go back and forth a bit, but I have a huge chip lead, so I'm just waiting for the spot. It comes when Al goes all-in and I see AKs and insta-call. Al flips over AQh, and that's all she wrote.

Wait... what? I won? I WON? I WON! WOOOHOO!! Have I truly entered the illustrious guild of Golden Hammer winners? Is it sad that the $2600 prize is the biggest score I've taken down? Who cares! I have a hammer trophy that turns into a screwdriver (I think that may be ironic), and I went from sadly down on the trip to happily up! Up is good. Down is bad.

Now to find a place of honour for this trophy. Also, there's the parade planning. I wonder if I can catch up to the Olympic torch and help draw more crowds...

Anyway, I never thought it could happen to me, etc, etc.. Congrats to Al for taking 2nd and putting on a hell of a game. It could have gone either way a few times if not for my luckbox powers activating when needed. Thanks to April and F-Train for setting the whole thing up, CJ for the last-longer tourney, PokerStars for adding some gravy to that one, and everyone there for making the actual game a secondary concern to just having a good time and enjoying the company and competition amongst friends.

Post-game I chatted with Smokkee a bit before heading back to the room to drop off some of the winnings and meet up with E & N for dinner (having taken M back to the airport for the red-eye). Since it was after 10, most of the higher-end establishments were closing down. We opted for Burger Bar, where I had the Kobe burger on an onion bun with caramelized onions, aioli, dijon, peppered bacon, and something else I'm sure.

But that all took longer than I expected, and we didn't get back to the IP until 1am. There was a small group of bloggers at the Geisha Bar (Al, Iggy, OhCaptain, April, and a few others), Falstaff at the Pai Gow table, and a couple others scattered around, but no group... this saddened me, as I was hoping to see more people I hadn't had a chance to talk with at any length yet. I remember last year being crazy at the IP late into the night.

Regardless, I was there losing at Let it Ride and craps, and slots until 6am. The plan was to go until we needed to get to the airport, but once I started passing out at the the LiR table, I knew a power nap was needed. One hour later, we were up and out to catch the flight back home.

Winnah!!

More later, as I'm on that winner's high and trying to figure out where to gorge myself in celebration.

2009 WINTER CLASSIC WINNER HERE!

Short version? Down the felt more times than I remember. Hands holding up when I needed them most, and finally getting a stack that I could use, and using it.

My old friends AA showing up 3-handed for the first time in the game.

AKs vs AQs for all the marbles... and big slick holding up.

Blogger money is the sweetest money.

And just like that, the Bellagio fountain show kicks off (Singing in the Rain), and it looks great from the top floor. TOP O' THE WORLD BABY!

You Might Be An Asshole If...

Played in the last home game of the season yesterday. I finally got my buddy E out for a game, convincing him it would be a good warmup for the clusterfuck we'll be playing on Saturday with you degenerates. My advice was to bring $100 but only spend $20. I think he got $80 in vs my $40.

Poor guy was card dead, and when he DID have cards, he ran them into me.

His first big raise was an all-in as his stack dwindled during the rebuy period. I had been planning on going all-in blind from the button myself this hand. He pushed, and I hadn't looked at my cards yet. I figured he had to have a decent pair or AK/AQ, and would be in a solid position against my random cards. Plus, I didn't mind putting another $20 in if it meant he got to win a big hand, go a bit deeper, and come out to more games in the future - it's all about having fun.

So I announced that I hadn't looked at my cards, but was going to call him anyway. The blinds folded and we here heads-up. I flipped over my cards while looking across the table at his holding. He had pocket nines. The table let out one of those exasperations that only happen when something notable is in play. I looked down at my flipped over cards at the Hiltons. E lets out a "you asshole!" (jokingly, I've only REALLY pissed him off once or twice in the years I've known him), and I laugh. "I swear I didn't look at them first!" The ladies held up, despite him getting a ton of outs by the turn (flush, OESD). He rebought.

The next time we tangled, I did look. We were out of the rebuys, and I had him covered by a bit, but we were the short stacks. He went all-in over a bet from me and I opted to call with a suited 1-gapper. He flipped over TT.

The board straightened out and we split the pot.

We then threw rock, paper, scissors for the extra blind chip (not splittable at this point, and it's a fun game). We tied 4 times before he finally beat me for the extra small blind.

He eventually went out in 5th, seemed to have a good time, and didn't smack me for being such a luckbox.

I finished 3rd to break even. I played passive poker until the bubble, which was a mistake by me. The luckbox powers are warming back up just in time for Vegas, and I'm reviewing my favourite poker book to kick my ass back into gear too. Victory will be MINE!