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Please feel free to pass this link around... one of the voices is pretty familiar.
Full Tilt Poker Podcasts
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50 players left in a Party 180-player SNG, 18 pay. Blinds 100/200. MP raises to 800, I make it 1600, and he pushes. If i call and he loses, it's 2/3 of his stack.
According to my records, I have cashed only twice in the last 40 MTT's I've played. Both were in the bottom half of the money. The only final tables I've seen are at Murderer's Row, and I didn't get paid.
With all the success that everyone's had, I can't help but feel extremely inadequate.
-Chris
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Ryan is one of the 18 left in Event number 1 at the LAPC. Play resumes tonight. Check for updates on his blog and cheer his ass on.
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Somewhere last night between doing laundry, World of Warcraft, and playing in a few SNG's online, I caught the sound in the air of seals humping.
Oh, wait. No, American Idol is back on TV.
Now, normally I wouldn't waste my time making commentary on a show that makes me weep for the future of the human race. But something happened that made me stand up on a note that even had me, the degenerate gambler, interested.
If you didn't happen to watch, at one point before going to commercial, Ryan I'm-Everything-Wrong-with-America Seacrest announced, "One of these three contestants is going to Hollywood, really!"
On the TV was a girl so tanned she got it on Earth re-entry, a guy dressed like Henry VIII, and a barefoot moron jumping around like a monkey.
The Geekette, who watches this TV show as a guilty pleasure, shared my gaze that was obviously turning the same gears in her head as I.
"Has to be Funny Hat dude," I said. "He must have pipes."
I hate blond bimbos. Repulsed to the point of nausea. There's no way they make a setup like this and Little Miss Likeohmygod gets to come to Hollywood.
Now I was stuck, because I had to watch and see what would happen. Dammit, Fox, I was enjoying my evening and you had to go and ruin it with a fun little romp of Schadenfreude. Oh well, bring on the losers.
(NOTE: You'll notice I have no sympathy for the people who go on this show and then cry their eyes out when lambasted. If you go to this show to try out, you better be damn sure that you are in the top one-thousandth of one percent of singing talent, because if you're not, then you're either wasting our time or making for great TV when you call Simon Cowell a cocksucker. Either you're too egotistical to see past your own horrible voice, or too dumb. Please go away and stop trying to earn your dreams through self-pity.
On the other hand, William Hung? Deserves every moment of fame he managed to squeeze out of his AI experience. Thumbs up.)
Anyways, I digress.
*puts down firearms*
The show continues and the blond bonehead opens her mouth for the first time, and where I hope for a pittance, I am rewarded with riches. The girl is so lost she'd ask how many cans there are in a six-pack. She prides herself on being "immersed in the entertainment industry" and says it in such a perky Valleygirl dialect that I almost do a double take. "Did she just say Edu-tainment? Are we really allowing her near our nation's kids?" I cackle with glee the more and more she talks, ready for the axe to fall when she walks in for her audition.
"Hi, i'm going to sing the Jackson 5 song, A-B-..... uh.... what comes after B?"
She walks in and is such a vapid twerp that Simon starts to go on the same investigative track I was on: That her brain is actually a tape recorder.
"Can I ask about your suntan?"
"Yeah, my name is Crystal and-"
"No, your suntan!"
"OH! I'm sorry. I'm going to sing-"
"YOUR SUNTAN!"
"My what? Oh, my suntan."
I'm laughing but my evening is almost ruined when I've totally underestimated her singing ability. She belts it. Not the best performance of the day, but she's definitely not the worst. I frown when she ends, praying the same Gods of Karma who gave Matusow the nuts against the Sheik would bestow a big fat "NO" on the lips of Simon, Paula, and Randy.
Thankfully, they go along with my evil plan and even call her mother in to ask her where Crystal gets her inspiration. She walks in and they decided they don't need to ask anymore.
Ah, satisfaction. The show continues. One loser down, two to go. Funny hat dude is a lock.
We get to Funny hate dude, and he's intelligent and speaks well, which has been a lock so far on this show. If they interview you and you're able to use words bigger than, say, "glove", you're going to Hollywood.
I'm looking past the outfit and giving him the thumbs up. Go in and sing, man. Show 'em how it's done.
Aw man, he's signing in a cryptic foreign language. Faaaaaaack. Simon tees it up and waits for the appropriate comedic beat.
"Catchy."
Geekette laughs and starts getting excited. "That means the hyper guy is going to Hollywood!"
"What? No way. No effing way."
"They said--"
"'They?' 'They' are the same people that gave Wanda Sykes a show."
Oh shit, maybe I just ruined my own argument.
Mr. Hyper, whose name is David Hoover, is introduced to us before his introduction and we find out that not only is he barefoot and on some kind of amphetamine, but that animals talk to him in 'cartoony voices'.
I brace myself for the audition in a way that resembles being excited for a multi-car pileup on the freeway.
David comes in and does something resembling an interpretive dance of the third act of In the Mouth of Madness.
Simon, immediately, says no. Actually, he says Never. Good call. Cover all the bases. Don't let him show up for a second audition.
Randy says yes, mostly because it takes two judges to get to Hollywood and there's no way that Paula says yes.
Paula can't stop giggling though, and... "For reasons I can't explain," she squeaks, says YES. David bounds around screaming, grabs his Golden Wonka Ticket to Hollywood, and is still audible in the audition room after the door is shut.
Simon Cowell looks like he just found out Courtney Love is having his baby.
Somewhere, right now, some bookie is trying to work out odds on David Hoover to get past the next round, and I'm putting money down. It's the Jesse effect.
Do you remember MTV's "I wanna be a VJ?" It was the first ever reality show voted on American Idol-style. MTV execs sat horrified as the incredibly qualified and knowledgable Dave Holmes lost to Jesse Camp, a moron who didn't answer a single musical trivia question during the entire contest. His usual answer? "Couch!" MTV's core audience and its combined IQ of 12 decided that they wanted him to win, the way that the assholes in high school start voting drives for the biggest nerd in school to win Prom King.
Now, Look for David Hoover to be the Jesse Camp of our generation, and for Simon Cowell to kill himself in grand fashion. I'm putting money on it. And now, like any sporting event with money on the line, I'm forced to watch.
Goddammit.
-Chris
"What, I won? Whoa, I guess I'm not the only person on crack!"
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Yesterday was another "milestone birthday", the last one you can probably enjoy. There's 13 (yay, i'm a teenager!), 16 (yay, I can drive!), 18 (woot dead kittens), 20 (round numbers rock), 21 (woot, I can hit stuff with my car), and now, 25.
As promised to my dad, I was going to show off that after this long of time, I've come a long way.
Quarter of a century down, 2 more to go, if life expectations are to be believed. And as you all know, us poker bloggers are very big on looking at statistics in the long run.
Things are also on the upswing too. I mean, look at my last birthday: Broke, and being dumped. This birthday: In Vegas gambling money that I don't mind losing, and doing it with my fiance. Life is good.
This birthday was a Vegas trip, though we were not there celebrating my birthday as much as just having a good time gambling and seeing sights we haven't hit yet. Kori's friend Matt was in town, and having never been to Vegas, got to play the role of "Oooh! Shiny!" for us. We stayed at the Stratosphere and managed to have lunch at the Top of the World restaraunt, cheering on a piece of paper while it fought the laws of physics and actually catch an updraft higher than us.
I quietly remarked that I didn't want any serving or kitchen staff singing Happy Birthday (I think the exact quote is "You do that and you're dead",) though when a large party broke out into said song 2 tables down, I quietly altered the lyrics for myself and munched on one of the better Kobe burgers I've had in due time.
Poker? One 7 hour session the night we got in. I played 1-2NL in the Strat and sat down with chips, only to hear the dealer exclaim "OH MY GOD...." to the surprise of the other players, who looked up at me expecting to see a 3-armed man or some other abnormality. I knew I didn't have 3 arms, so I instead turned my gaze to the dealer to try and figure out why my presence was so jarring...
It was Sloshr!!! We laughed and broke into our own version of "Of all the gin joints in all the world..." while the players all wondered if they were about to be cold decked.
On the second hand, we're sitting shorthanded and everyone limps. I complete with 36o and the Big blind makes a nuisance raise to 7. I'm already a bit sauced and everyone else folds. I look to my left and this kid is wearing sunglasses and sitting stonefaced like a statue.
PokerGeek Double Standard #27: When I wear sunglasses, it's irony. When others do, it's cute, in a pathetic sort of way.
I call, because I'm not letting this wannabe badass off the hook.
Flop: 662. Check, he bets 15 bucks before I can tap the table a second time. I call after a beat.
Turn: 2. Check. He checks. Guess he's not being fooled anymore.
River: 2. I look at my cards and study the boat on the board. "I think I'm playing the board here...." and bet 25. He calls.
"Oh wait, i'm not." Flip over my 6 and he mucks.
Ryan, did I tip? I'm pretty sure I tipped. :)
Anyways, Ryan gets moved off the table by another dealer apparently by mistake, and after looking rather upset by this for a bit, he disappears. I'm told his shift is over and am very bummed. But I'm up, so I take the table change in stride.
The second table was full and fishy, but could not really catch cards (or action) when I needed either. I flopped Aces full with AJ, and managed to squeeze 20 bucks out of a stone. I turned broadway on a scary board, and check-reraised after two loose players decided to represent. There was a flush draw so I pushed, but both players decided that their bluffs had no chance and went away.
Over the whole weekend, blackjack kicked my ass, as usual. Henry had given me 100 for my B-Day to be as stupid as possible with, and considering how i did during the WPBT trip at the blackjack tables, it seemed appropriate. A dealer at the MGM, Joe, was playing the role of cooler, dealing me 12 over and over without relenting. A face card to go with was guaranteed.
Down to my last 20, I put it down and was dealt 11. The dealer was showing a 4, and I quickly borrowed 20 from Matt who was completely down with the situation. The dealer, wanting to try and finally squeeze some fun out of the table, dealt me the card face down.
The fun was pretty short lived. The dealer's other card was a 7, and a 10 came out so fast afterwards I didn't even have time to exclaim "FUCK!" and get tossed out. Instead, I sat dejected and looked at the dealer.
"I don't have a face card, do I?" He half-turned my double down card towards himself, and looked at me, knowing he was taking the last 40 dollars. I didn't ask him to show me.
"I'm sorry we can't be friends, Joe," I said as I got up from the table.
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NO. No no no no no no NO. NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO.
Noooooooooooooooooooooooo.
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Greetings, all. I would apologize for my lack of posting, but everyone's been just so gosh-darn giddy about the last blog post, and very few have taken the route of "So, why don't you actually write about it?" To the minority that did, you are in the right, and I should write. Right? Right.
Kori and I thank you all for your well-wishes and congratulations. The last week has been laid back in the sense that there will be little chance to relax in the near future as preparing for a wedding tends to dominate one's time. So, we took a deep breath, sat down, played some World of Warcraft, and spent each evening in each other's company.
Oh, except for the night where I lost to a fucking two-outer. For the love of--
((sound of sentence cut off midway, replaced by hold music, preferably "The Girl from Iponema"))
[Your blog post is important to us. Please stay on the RSS Feed and one of our poker bloggers will assist you as soon--]
((Music stopped, followed by Chris attempting to breathe))
Okay, reset. Get to that later. For now, happier tidings. I promise.
We spent Christmas in the midwest, a few days in the Twin Cities and then venturing home to Iowa until a flight on New Year's Eve that I'm sure both of us would rather forget. I spent the beginning of Friday night regaling in the similarity of my experience to JoeSpeaker's harrowing tale of woe on the subway one hungover morning. Our exchange was mostly interrupting each other with "Oh, I *know*!" and laughing at our shared misery in such a way as to make derivative stand up comics proud.
And then after that, the FUCKING TWO OUTER. I MEAN, REA--
((Hold Music))
[If Blogger ate your post, please return during normal business hours. Otherwise, please stay--]
((Hold Music replaced by muffled voices in the background arguing))
...okay, I'm being told I'm not allowed to complain about that. But I will offer my commentary on others' comments. Or something.
So Friday night. First time that Kori's been able to see the gang since the big announcement, so it's fun for both of us to get mobbed with questions and whatnot and play the happy couple. We're early so we get plenty of yammering in. I make a huge party foul by spilling a beer all over both of us in the middle of trying to give her a hug, and everyone has a grand laugh while I clean up and Kori borrows another pair of slacks from Mrs. HDouble. (Not to plug Eddie Bauer, but the beer slid right off my khakis and you wouldn't even know I spilled on them.)
High Plains Drifter joins us, and my first observation is that he's literally the West Coast version of BadBlood, though he confesses that he's not nearly as "metal". Either way, we chat about bartending and other stuff during the night, and it's fun to watch him step into the game.
My goal for the night (besides the obvious win): No matter how sure I was about my decision in a hand, I was gonna think about it twice and be damn sure of what I was doing. No kneejerk all-ins, no lighting quick checking after I missed the flop. Solid play.
3 Notable hands that stick in my mind:
1. I've been getting hot with the cards but not showing down, so my image is looser than normal pretty typical of my play. I get ATo in the CO with the blinds at 10-20, and make the standard raise. JoeSpeaker calls to my left, and both blinds fold.
The flop is J52 with two spades, and I have the ace of spades. I make a continuation bet of 75 to see what Joe's thinking. A little more than half the pot. Joe thinks for a second and then calls.
Okay, so right there, what does Joe have? I'm giving him odds to chase a flush, but I have the ace. KQ spades is a possibility. Would he just flat-call with a jack? Maybe if he didn't like his kicker. JT? Did he flop a set and slowplay me? That's my biggest fear. But would Joe slowplay, knowing I could be on a draw too? It's gotta be staring him in the face if that's the case...
...my conclusion at this point was that Joe felt he had the best hand, but was not awestruck with it either. Other hands start entering my mind like middle pair or A5.
When the 4 of clubs fell on the turn, I thought for awhile before checking, deciding that I was going to pay extra attention to Joe's bet. Joe bet 150 into a 300 chip pot, and it didn't tell me anything new. So, I thought for awhile longer and check-raised him to 450.
Joe took the longest of any of the decisions during the hand, and called.
Crap.
The river put the third spade on the board, and I thought about pushing. Joe didn't have the nuts, and I didn't have him on a draw. But if he likes his hand enough to call a check-raise, does he like it enough now? The pot is 1250 chips, and I've only got 1000 left. I don't think I can make another bluff.
I check, and he checks behind, a small grimace on his face. He shows QJs and I knock the table.
A small discussion afterwards sprung up as to whether he'd lay down if I pushed on the river, and a few people said "Of course he can't call, no way" but I think that it's possible. Either way, I had the right idea about his hand range, it was just a bit too strong to make him lay anything down.
2. We're at the final table and I'm sitting in the SB with a small stack of 1100 chips. Blinds are 50/100 and it's folded around to HDouble on the button, who makes a blind-steal raise to 300. I finally look down at my cards... A9o.
Usual line of thinking: Push 90% of the time, drop it the other 10%, depending on situation.
The line of thinking at the time: Do I really wanna re-raise all in with A9o here? I've got High Plains Drifter on my left yet to act, and I've barely seen him play. I get into one of those "Hank knows that I think he raises with any two here, so would he pick a quality hand and catch me restaling?"
I take enough time that Hank even comments that I'm deciding whether to push or not. Almost in an effort to throw him a curveball, I just call. Hank gives a half surprised look, Drifter folds, and we see a flop.
Flop is a hardly comforting T42 rainbow. I think again for a solid beat before checking. Hank looks at me as he checks behind.
Turn is a queen and I check again, and Hank makes a bet. It doesn't take me long to fold.
Hank shows 72 as he collects his chips, and I sigh.
"Well, he did have the best hand," i audibly note. Hank smiles and agrees.
3. Alright, here's "the hand". I've pushed with 66 previously in a bid to stay alive, and picked up the blinds. I've got about 700 in front of me with the blinds at 75/150, and Ryan raises UTG to 450. It's folded to me, and I see 66 again.
I know this is going to be hairy with Ryan raising UTG, but I have to make a move here. I push the rest of my chips in, praying for a coin flip.
Then, Franklin goes into the deepest tank I've ever seen at the Murderer's Row game. Bill Rini was going to have to lend him scuba gear. Like Ryan (as his own personal account of the hand declares), I was using whatever psychic ability I could to NOT GET INVOLVED IN THE HAND. 66 against one player? Bad. Against Ryan? I could be meat. Against Ryan *and* Franklin? Don't even bother with a flop, guys, it's been good playing with you.
Finally, Franklin folds. There was a funny moment here when Ryan looked at me.
"Okay, *how* much more is it to me?"
The tone sparked something off in my brain. Looking at the money, there's no way he can lay down here. The pot odds are through the roof, and he has to call even if he hates his hand.
But why would he hate his hand if he was raising UTG?....
....Shit, he's got THE HAMMER.
Ryan noted my utter ballistic glee in his blog, and yes, I snarked "I caught you!" because of it. I think it earns a laugh in any case, but my real glee came from the fact that I came to the conclusion a few beats before the cards were face up, and I was ready to actually receive some good fortune in this god forsaken game.
As is customary with hands where I'm on the button and I'm all in, I handed the deck to someone else to deal. In this case, it was JoeSpeaker. "Here man, I can't do it."
"What? Aw man, don't peg this on me..." but Joe took the cards and dealt my fate.
The flop was 853 and while Franklin was going crazy at missing out on top set, my stomach was churning. I didn't like the flop at all. I wanted broadway cards and anything far away from touching us.
Turn? 4. Think Matusow watching the flush draw come on the turn for Lazar. There's no way this ends well, right?
Wait, I've still got a straight draw too. And he needs a 6, and I've got two of those, so that means --
-- and I wasn't allowed to finish the thought. The 6 hit on the river.
No tirades, no hiding in the bathroom. I took it well. I lost to the hammer, after all. The Most Powerful Hand in No-Limit Hold'em.
After a few minutes of collecting myself, I walked back to the table and tapped on Ryan's shoulder.
"You realize we're even now, right?"
Franklin chuckled from his seat to the right of us. "I was waiting for him to say that."
-Chris
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Bad News: The Geekette is no longer my girlfriend.
Good News: The Geekette is now my fiancée.
Discuss.
-Chris
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While I'm sitting in Minneapolis and enjoying the holiday mood, I thought I'd get some things cleared up and share some other notes:
Correction: In a pre-Vegas post, I noted that BG smelled. I apologize for the confusion, as BG thought I was referring to his olfactory abilities. What I meant was, "The eerie haze that surrounds BG as he sits at his computer desk resembles that of dead fish being picked apart by vultures bathed in raw sewage."
That and I lost money playing his horses... a whopping 7 dollars (or for those keeping track, 49.3% of my bankroll).
Omissions: Yeah, all I really can give you people is a Vegas trip report, and I totally copped out. I officially suck ass. My favorite hate mail for this so far belongs to a non-blogger who I played with at MGM with, who found my blog and sent me this IM:
dude, i am SO disappointed... we share an hour or two at 4/8 half kill at the MGM, argue about KTo UTG and its value in that game, I impress you with my knowledge of the 91 Twins. I complain about Full Tilt poker to you when you obviously don't care, then you give me this blog. Then I check it religiously to see me chronicled in INFAMY, and I get a philisophical nugget about Disneyland after 3 weeks of waiting.
To add to the notes that weren't included above, we never had a kill pot that got past pre-flop and the play was as fishy as one would expect in a 4/8 game. I almost felt like I was there killing time and sharing conversation than I was playing poker. My hands pretty much played themselves and never felt the need to get stupid or tricky. I left down two dollars, but we were having a hilarious time trading movie and sports trivia. The writer of the above note kept up with me at a really scary rate and I can take heart that I am *not* the only one that believes the '91 Series to be the greatest of all time.
Omission: CJ has been replaced by Dr. Chako as the Pokergeek's Official Luckbox. Pocket Aces 5 times in the first two hours of the big tournament, knocking out me *and* the Geekette. Well done sir. He got a nice hat for his efforts. I got a lecture for not picking up on his red-flag-IVE-GOT-ACES acting show from the SB.
Correction: Despite earlier sentiment, I do not know how to play poker. But I play one on the internet.
-Chris
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Once again, I find myself throwing out a lot of stuff and deciding that I'm not going to bore everyone with what I did or how much fun I had.
Instead, I challenged myself to consense the experience into one sentence while still accurately conveying my feelings on the event. So, let me just say this:
A WPBT Event is like going to Disneyland for 15 minutes... Sure, you're at the happiest place on earth, but how can you leave happy when there's no possible way to take all of it in?
The double edged sword of having so many awesome people to share the weekend with.
-Chris
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I'm here. Not dead. Trip report is once again proving epic and not really done yet.
Life gets hectic on the holidays.
-Chris
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The word was that Phil Gordon was mega-tilted when he lost in a roshambo match to Mrs. Head...
...and here's the eyewitness video.
-Chris
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...crossed off the list.
-Chris
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Jello. If you haven't been at Murderer's Row, and don't work where I do, you haven't seen me in the past week. It's been a frickin' madhouse at the Geek compound, and I haven't been getting much sleep. Lots of projects, not much time. No sunshine. No poker. Not much shut eye. Mostly just 47 different projects of different work and non-work varieties. None of which include cracking aces.
But why bother playing right now? Since, after all, I am the 2nd best poker player currently living in my apartment. You cannot argue with results, and you better all be watching out for the Geekette. First, she walks into the Friday night game, smokes everyone, starts out heads up with Change100 with a 3-1 chip defecit, and battles back to even and a 50/50 chop.
Me? I went to the final table as chip leader and managed to bust out. I didn't even bubble.
Next night, Geekette plays in a 5+.50 MTT with over 150 in attendance and gets 2nd. If her opponent doesn't flop two straights in a *row*, she wins the whole thing.
*Next* night, plays in the 14k with 800 people and makes the money without breaking a sweat. This of course with Joe Speaker at her table, who goes on to win the whole damn thing. Some can say it was skill, some may say luck. Me, I say because he was standing close to her.
With all this winning, of course, you can imagine the smack talk I'm induring from other LA Bloggers. No, I will not indulge you. You'll hear it enough next weekend.
Speaking of which, I'm so ready to fly out the door and be there. It may only be 3 days and 2 nights for us, but to bask in the desert sun and sling cards with some of you blogging folk is paramount to the continuing of my existance.
Geekette says she doesn't plan to play much, and I have thrown out the disclaimer that there is a danger in that she might not see much of me outside of meals and the tourney. She understands and accepts for the most part. See what I do for you people? I attempt to cheat death at the hands of my girlfriend. The girlfriend that plays poker better than I do.
I'm running out of pre-Vegas stuff to talk about. So far, pictures have spoken louder than words, and making fun of BadBlood is either already overdone (or just too easy). Let's try something else on for size.... um....
Hey BG!
(pause)
uh... you.... smell!
*sigh* I got nothing.
If there is one thing I pray to the poker gods, it is that I have some energy left as we roll into town Friday night, and that it carries me farther than it did last year, falling asleep at Cabo after the tournament.
Dressed like the Cure.
...I hate you all.
-Chris
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A recap of the hand in question:
-100 NL 6-max, big stack across the table playing agressive pre-flop
-140 in front, table image is agressive.
-in the BB with Kc Qc, 4 players, 12 in the pot
-Flop: Kd Tc 5c, bet the pot, big stack calls
-Turn: 2c, bet 50 into 36 dollar pot
-Big stack pushes all in.
Q: What do you put the villain on?
The consensus that most people held was that the big stack had AK with the ace of clubs. The fact that the player not only stayed in after the flop but pushed on the turn told me that the villain wasn't bluffing, and did indeed have a hand worth pushing with.
However, *how* worthwhile was up in the air.
When it call came down to it, however, I called and he shows.... Jc 8c for a lower flush and drawing completely dead.
Mr. Subliminal, you were *one* pip off. You scare me and I hope you're not sitting at my table next week.
At least when I buy in it will be with the donkey's money.
-Chris
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Let's just cut to the chase...
Me > You
(Like I'm wasting Photoshop on your musclehead sorry ass.)
-Chris
//boards plane to other side of earth
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I had a huge hand last night in 100NL-6max that I wanted to share, and started thinking about on a larger scale.
I had just sat down two orbits before and gone on a mini-rush of cards, getting a hold of AA, JJ, TT, and AK. I never had to show down any of them, and had built my stack up to 140.
The player directly across from me had about 300 in front of him and was raising a good deal, even for a 6 handed game.
This particular hand, i had Kc Qc in the BB and after an EP limp, Big stack raised to 3. The button called, I called, and EP called.
The flop came out Kd Tc 5c. I had top pair with the 2nd nut flush draw, and I bet the pot (12). The big stack called.
The turn was the 2c, giving me the flush. I wanted to look like I was making a bluff at a scare card, so I bet 50 into the 36 dollar pot. The big stack pushed all in.
I have 75 dollars left. I'm probably going to call here, but what range do you put the villain on?
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Okay, so this one was a *lot* more fun.
Click the preview for full image....
-Chris
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(click image for large version)
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Good Feeling: Flopping the nut flush from the big blind.
Great Feeling: Seeing a bet and a raise after you check.
Amazing Feeling: Having two people call your all-in, and they both have you covered.
Yeah, it was a nice night of poker.
-Chris
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You ever have that day where you hang out with a friend, and everything goes wrong? And not only that, but your friend can't help but have the greatest day of his life? McDonalds screws up your order, and then your friend pulls the Monopoly instant win to get a new car?
And in the glee, you get ketchup all over your best shirt?
Yeah, that was me and CJ last night.
In case you are living under a blog-free rock, CJ has been on a rush this weekend that would make Dave "Dice Boy" Lambert stand up and applaud. I'd taken note of his success and for obvious reasons, made me want to revisit my former glory days and get back into a tourney mode.
I signed up for the 14k on Full Tilt and discovered 10 minutes in that CJ was in the tourney too.... crap. Joining a Yahoo chat with Otis sweating both (while he was in a Party tourney of his own), we both crawled into the top 30 with 400 left before we parted ways.
While my TT was getting cracked by Q8o, he was doubling up like crazy. I was out in 125th, and he went on to get 7th for another 750 dollars or so.
That along with his Pacific win (which he was playing at the same time) puts him above 8k for the week.
CJ Hoyt is now known as Luckbox for the rest. of. his. life.
I went 0/5 in MTT over the rest of the night on Stars and Full Tilt, 3 times getting extremely close to the money before my chipstack died a slow death. The most promising chance I had was in the 20-table SNG on Stars when I got all-in with a straight on the turn, only to be called by top set and have him boat up on the river, sending me into IGHN-land for what felt like the 47th time.
I don't know what's happened since my "I don't care if i have 92o, there's no way he's calling" era, but I got scared to steal a couple times, and I need to work on being more confident about my opportunities. There were a few times I could have pushed and picked up a blind, but wussed out. Hands like KJ and A5 just didn't look like the cards I had been waiting for all night.
Meanwhile, CJ got AA vs. KK. Again. Stop it, luckbox.
At least I had my head in the right place: I agreed with CJ that if we made it heads up, we were making a deal.
Of course, this was all hinging on whether I made it there. CJ, after all, was a sure thing.
-Chris
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From the "Oh my god they let you people exist" File. No usernames were changed, because none of these morons are innocent.
Interestingly enough, there were 41 people left in this tournament, and we were all the top 3 chip leaders.
FullTiltPoker: $20 + $2 Tournament Table 7 - 40/80 - No Limit Hold'em
*** HOLE CARDS ***
Dealt to JediMyndTrik [Ad Ac]
expgroe2718 folds
kroper folds
Rebuild02 raises to 160
dawgdone calls 160
JediMyndTrik raises to 450
Skuper folds
GoodTimeDoc folds
peckpecktete folds
Rebuild02 calls 290
dawgdone calls 290
*** FLOP *** [Qh 4h 3s]
Rebuild02 bets 640
dawgdone raises to 1,280
JediMyndTrik raises to 3,085, and is all in
Rebuild02 calls 2,445
dawgdone calls 1,805
*** TURN *** [Qh 4h 3s] [8h]
Rebuild02 bets 1,778, and is all in
dawgdone calls 1,778
Rebuild02 shows [Th Kh]
dawgdone shows [Qc Kd]
JediMyndTrik shows [Ad Ac]
*** RIVER *** [Qh 4h 3s 8h] [3d]
Rebuild02 shows a flush, King high
dawgdone shows two pair, Queens and Threes
Rebuild02 wins the side pot (3,556) with a flush, King high
JediMyndTrik shows two pair, Aces and Threes
Rebuild02 wins the main pot (10,725) with a flush, King high
JediMyndTrik stands up
*** SUMMARY ***
Total pot 14,281 Main pot 10,725. Side pot 3,556. | Rake 0
Board: [Qh 4h 3s 8h 3d]
Yep, with nothing but KTs and a hope and a dream, the chip leader called off a majority of his stack after being reraised with only a flush draw, and 2nd place came along with top pair 2nd kicker, and then called all in after the flush had hit.
Of course, fishy morons like this can lead to another result....
(This guy's name i'm keeping to myself, sorry.*)
FullTiltPoker Game - $0.50/$1 - No Limit Hold'em - 6:23:10 ET - 2005/11/19
Seat 1: JediMyndTrik ($88.40)
Seat 2: higantes ($40)
Seat 3: reezepower ($0), is sitting out
Seat 4: Gyp ($159.55)
Seat 5: My ATM ($162.60)
Seat 6: Mechanique ($169.50)
Gyp posts the small blind of $0.50
My ATM posts the big blind of $1
higantes posts $1
The button is in seat #3
*** HOLE CARDS ***
Dealt to JediMyndTrik [Ks Ah]
Mechanique folds
JediMyndTrik calls $1
higantes raises to $4
Gyp calls $3.50
My ATM raises to $162.60, and is all in
JediMyndTrik calls $87.40, and is all in
higantes folds
Gyp folds
My ATM shows [As 4s]
JediMyndTrik shows [Ks Ah]
Uncalled bet of $74.20 returned to My ATM
*** FLOP *** [5h Jh 6c]
*** TURN *** [5h Jh 6c] [2s]
*** RIVER *** [5h Jh 6c 2s] [5s]
My ATM shows a pair of Fives
JediMyndTrik shows a pair of Fives
JediMyndTrik wins the pot ($182.80) with a pair of Fives
*** SUMMARY ***
Total pot $184.80 | Rake $2
Board: [5h Jh 6c 2s 5s]
Seat 1: JediMyndTrik showed [Ks Ah] and won ($182.80) with a pair of Fives
Seat 2: higantes folded before the Flop
Seat 3: reezepower (button) is sitting out
Seat 4: Gyp (small blind) folded before the Flop
Seat 5: My ATM (big blind) showed [As 4s] and lost with a pair of Fives
Seat 6: Mechanique didn't bet (folded)
And people say Full Tilt has the toughest players.
-Chris
*Yes, I'm aware that it doesn't make sense to pick and choose which usernames to post when it's all horrid play and equally likely to make me money in the long run. If you came here for deep thoughts on poker, you have been severely misguided.
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If anyone was watching last night's broadcast of the Championship final of Poker Superstars II, then you saw what might be the new highbar for humiliating a pro in a sidebar video segment.
No, this topped Phil Hellmuth's meditation and teeth brushing, and easily swatted away Chris Ferguson's fruit salad/card throwing exercise.
Johnny Chan shopping at Versace.
I can't even begin to fathom where to start. If you experience giggling fits, you are par for the course. How much did Versace pay? How much are they wishing they didn't? How in the hell does Johnny not stop the cameramen halfway through and say "C'mon, guys, I look like a friggin' moron. Can I have my dignity? Where's Matt Damon? I need to get revenge for that hand in Rounders."
And of course, I thought I was going to get through this life without seeing Chan's pasty white legs laid visible through the use of puke-splatter colored swimming trunks.
One of the commentators said afterwards of Johnny's choice in shirts, "I hope you viewers are tuning in on a Black and White TV."
Sadly, I was watching in color, and now my screen is ruined from the burned in images of pure tacky that was on display.
It's 18 hours later, and I'm *still* laughing.
-Chris
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