Tournament poker=American Dream=Non existent.

It has become clear that a major leak in my game is tournament poker. I see all these young boys and girls making huge scores and admittedly become seduced by the idea that I might sneak one past the young rounders. I have cashed in a bunch, final tabled a handful, and taken down 1 tournament this year. Still, not enough. My cash game winnings are just being donated to the tournament scene. I also had a great look at a 5k nl tournament score at Seneca Niagara, but spewed my stack all over the place showing the gentlemen to the left of me just how little I cared about those shitty little chips, and made sure that he will never "ride my coattails to the final table".

At any rate I have been watching the young people play nl tournaments online, trying to get ideas from them, incorporate some of their moves, and am realizing I cannot put in the volume to get the results I expect from tournament play. I don't want to sit in front of the computer for 12 hrs straight. I have a career that I enjoy and don't need to grind it out. However, I'm still hungry and do want to go to the WSOP again next year, so the roll will be built, it's just time to plug the leaks.

As ever,

B.

Buffalo Central Terminal (Rumble in the City)

Fremont

Champagne Tuesdays and the $1.6 million dollar man

I knew Scott Fishman hosted a mixed game at the Hard Rock Casino so I made my way there. If the game wasn't running I would play NL holdem like the rest of Vegas. No Fishman game, but there was game starting that was a mix of NL hold em and Pot Limit Omaha. I'm in. Give me any mix at this point, and I actually wanted to play some live Pot Limit Omaha.

It was immediately clear to me that these people knew each other. My 'senses' were heightened and I tried to get a read as quickly as possible. I didn't enjoy the fact that most of the table were 'younger folks', but I was ready play my best.

Champagne and Strawberries? 4 people at the table were drinking this. I decided I didn't care who knew who, I had to see what unfolded amongst a table of champagne and strawberries drinkers. Dan introduced himself to me and it turns out that he was the host of the game and has a real poker blog Pokerati. This was usually a media game, but his fellow media members failed to show, or grew tired of waiting to get a seat.

Champagne and Strawberries? Normally at such a sloppy and slow game as what was transpiring, I would be incredibly tilted and angry. On the contrary though. It was the funnest game I played in Vegas. The other 2 locals were drinking and carrying on but never faltered. They talked and talked but never belittled anyone and the drunk one was pretty funny. They started playing a prop game 'name the band' which added to the chaos. What with Rex running as fast as he could in and out to the lobby to confirm questionable bands/answers. Every douche bag band that came on during my turn that I didn't know, I just said Switchfoot. Lots of fun. Still, these guys never faltered. This is what they do. They live here and are young and drunk and living the Vegas life. I was somewhat jealous, but not enough to drink Champagne and Strawberries.

So a guy in these clown pants shows up to the game. The locals new him, and I thought I recognized him. After a while I hear his name was Tom, so I finally asked Dan what his last name was. Yep, that's what I thought. The 2007 WSOP player of the year is playing in my $1/$2 no limit hold em-pot limit omaha game. Mr. $1.6 million dollar man. I immediately thought about getting up, but, the competitor in me wanted to stay put. Measure up, learn a few tricks, etc. What's one more pro at the table anyhow?

I didn't tangle with him in one pot. Not out of fear, it just never happened. I wasn't really looking to get into a post flop pissing contest with him, mind you, but still, I never battled him. As the night wore on I slipped out with a winning session as they argued about the myriad of prop bets being thrown around...

Dreamily,

B.

Mount Charleston

Ghost Town and my addiction to the desert blooms

Tournament Time. Day of.

I woke up fairly early and could not decide what to do. I didn't want any part of going to a casino and playing poker before I played poker. What I did want to do was go out to the desert. At this point I was addicted. I didn't want to miss the start of my WSOP debut, but I had to do something. Ghost town. Okay, I'm there. Goodsprings, Nevada.

I pulled up to a Hells Angels photo shoot and got a quick shot before they pulled a knife on me. Just kidding. Actually, on my way out of town you can see the picture of Misses Hells Angels. I got a booming laugh out of her as the real photographer demanded that she not look at my camera. I put the pedal through the yaris' floor and made for the Rio.

The anticipation wasn't as grueling as I thought it would be, I was just bored and ready to start. I drifted from Starbucks where I saw many a 'known player' to the tournament room and tried to care about the 10k Omaha 8 final table, but if watching poker on tv is mind numbing, well, live is just plain horrible. I introduced myself to Micon as I am a member of his site and he was as cool as could be.

I was a little nervous to be one of the first ones hovering around the tournament area (clearly a rookie move) but I saw a dealer that I sat next to in the Venetian HORSE game who seemed to be a nice guy so I talked him up. Then as I took my seat I noticed a guy at the next table over who was the guy that fell over in his chair at the Golden Nugget game! It just so happened that I was sitting next to him at that game as well, so I went over and made sure he was strapped in, etc. or made some lame joke about falling out of his seat. He was cool as well. In fact, I was pleasantly surprised that almost every single person at my starting table was fairly cool in their own right. At least no douche bags anyways. Later on a young Italian hot shot ruined the vibe, but overall not a bad mix of personalities. The main pro at our table was Shawn Rice who couldn't have been nicer. I needled him about the Ultimate Bet gear that he was wearing as he seemed like such a nice dude, representing such a shady site. He smirked and gave a vote of confidence for security. I left it at that.

The Play.

There were no monster exciting hands that a no limit tournament would offer. I dragged a few pots to keep me at average with the field coming back from the dinner break. I was good with that, but after dinner, I started bleeding chips in 2 particular hands. I stayed around too long, looking for a card, but alas, the 8 never fell for me. I played as well as I could after the blood, but there was nothing I could do at that point. The antes were eating me up and I really didn't catch any cards to keep me alive. In fact, I never caught one great hand the whole day. But, the 2 hands I stuck around in out of spite were clearly the leak. Next year.

Although there were no exciting hands, I am slow playing at how much fun I had. I wanted to stick around so goddamn bad. I can't wait to get back next year. I plan on playing a few tournaments, and vow to cash. I am so motivated and felt like I belonged there.

Longingly,

B.