A while back, a poker message board that I frequent had a post about a site called powerplayer.com that was literally giving people $25 just to sign up on their site. Lots of poker sites give out sign up bonuses and whatnot, but this was flat-out free cash with no deposit required so I used the code to try it out, if only because it sounded too good to be true. It wasn't. The $25 was immediately deposited in my account. The code is now defunct, otherwise I'd post it here so anyone could give it a try.
I hadn't played much on that site, mainly because I don't really like their graphics or their software. It is a skin (a duplicate site that looks exactly the same but has a different name) of Poker Room, which I had tried before because my friend Vince used to play there occasionally. Anyway...I was bored on Friday night and logged onto the site as a $5 MTT (multi table tournament) was about to begin, so I signed up. I ended up finishing in 12th place out of 250 starters. It was a rebuy tournament with an add-on but I didn't do either one and I cleared almost $20 of profit. I got knocked out with pocket queens on a pretty short stack so I can't really complain about the final spot. Tonight I logged back on there again and came in 2nd place in a $5 sit and go tournament (a single table tournament that starts when ten people sign up). Not too bad--all of this for free! My plan is to run the account up to a couple hundred bucks, try to clear an additional $75 bonus that they give you for free if you play enough, and then move the money into my Neteller account.
We saw Charlie and the Chocolate Factory today and it was really good. I loved the book as a child but I've never seen the original movie all the way through, so I can't compare there, but it did seem very faithful to the novel while still incorporating some modern touches. Johnny Depp was great, as always. I can't think of an actor working today that commits more to a role than he does (e.g. Pirates of the Caribbean, Once Upon a Time in Mexico), and he's always great fun to watch. The cast of kids they got was phenomenal as well.
On the other side of the spectrum, I recently rented Napoleon Dynamite. I held off on seeing it for so long because I just didn't think I would like it. I was right. When it finally ended, I was mentally labeling it one of the worst movies I've ever seen. However, a couple of things are making me reconsider this position. First, I've found that I'll occasionally think back to a scene or a moment that is weirdly funny. And secondly, and probably more importantly, my brother thinks that I should give it a chance. If anything, I thought that he might hate it more than me, but on the contrary; he suggests that under the right conditions--his exact preference was "watching it with Kinsman after a few beers"--that I might find it funny. This is probably true, so maybe I'll put this theory to the test some day. Until then, I'll just have to work on my nunchuck skills.
Sunday, July 31, 2005
Friday, July 29, 2005
Back to reality
I didn't win the World Series of Poker. I didn't even win any money.
I'm back home, and it's been long enough that I can finally sit down and write about it all. This will probably be long and rambling, if only to make up for the dearth of posts lately.
So where was I? That's right, I was in Vegas for the WSOP. My friend Shaw B was in town with a bunch of his buddies from Dallas, a rowdy crew of guys that I had never met. I met them at The Palms and we had a blast. They were all sitting at a blackjack table together and Shaw relinquished his third base seat to me. To make a long story short, the session ended after everyone there won a decent amount of cash and we all pounded a round of shots called a Red Headed Slut right there at the table. After that, we headed up to Ghostbar, one of Palms' notoriously cool hipster hangouts. This one happened to be 55 stories up, including a balcony patio with a gorgeous view of all of Las Vegas. Good times.
After several absurdly expensive cocktails, we made our way back downstairs, only to find ourselves all sitting down to play blackjack once again. What ensused was classic Vegas material: we all were feeling good and had had plenty of beverages, so of course that led to even more rowdy behavior at the table, exacerbated by the fact that we hit a tremendous stretch of cards. We had a blast. The details were a little sketchy even the next morning, let alone this long after the fact, so we'll just leave it at that.
I spent the next couple of days scouting out the WSOP and just having fun. Poker legends were everywhere, as were Hollywood celebrities. I saw Antonio Esfandiari at least five times. We saw Jennifer Tilly out and about more than once, wearing her WSOP bracelet, which I thought was great. I caught Tobey Maguire playing some high-limit Hold 'Em at Bellagio. I met Phil Hellmuth at a party and he was great. All in all, it was a fun and crazy week.
I started the tournament on Saturday at 11 AM and I was understandably a little nervous. However, those feelings quickly passed and I settled in to play my best game. For the record, my first hand ever at the WSOP was a glorious 2-8 off suit...glorious in that I didn't even have to think about playing it. I played pretty tight at first and it became evident that almost my entire table was filled with players that weren't very good. The lone exception was the player on my left, a friendly and personable guy about my age who went by the name of Tex. We got to chatting a little bit and really only got involved in two pots against each other. In one, we were the only players to see the flop and although I had no hand at all, I made a token bluff. He raised right back at me and I laid it down. This was very early, so it didn't cost much. In the other hand, I hit a fluky full house and he laid down his hand after I made a sizable bet on the river.
Shaw B and Erik, my faithful railbirds, also took a liking to Tex's wife, whom they met as they were all watching us. But Tex and I soon parted ways, as our table broke up pretty early. I wouldn't run into him again, although several days later I found out (spoiler warnings for anyone waiting for the ESPN coverage) that Tex went on to make the final table and finish in 3rd place, winning a cool $2.5 million. From all indications, he is a great player and a great guy, so good for him. And I'd bet good money that his wife logs some ESPN camera time.
The rest of Saturday was fairly uneventful. My stack didn't make any huge swings one way or the other. I did knock out a couple of other players and sit next to a couple of other pros, notably Gavin Griffin and Arnold Spee, who were both very nice guys--in 2004, Gavin became the youngest player ever to win a WSOP bracelet; Arnold won a World Poker Tour event in Reno, defeating Phil Ivey, among others. Late that night I went pretty card dead and was basically happy to have survived the day with a bigger stack than I started with. I ended the night with $12,000 and change in chips, which we bagged up at around 2:30 AM. I then went outside to find the longest cab line I've ever seen at a hotel in my life. I got to bed at around 4.
I came back eager and ready to play on Sunday and won a decent pot with AK on the first hand of the day. Shortly after that, former champ Chris Moneymaker busted out three tables away from mine. I got a chance to meet Chris and chat with him a little bit on Thursday and he was incredibly nice and gracious, just a super guy, and accomodating as can be for someone who still gets hounded everywhere by fans.
The cards went dead again and I just hung around, waiting for my shot. It finally came in the afternoon when my stack was down to about $11,000 and I was dealt pocket aces for the first time in the tournament. A very loose player with a big stack two seats to my right raised to $2500, so this was my chance. I wanted to get all of my money in, and I wanted him (and only him) to call me. Thus, it was Hollywood time. With one player sitting between us, I went into full acting mode, leaning out, staring at his stack of chips, then checking my own stack, then looking at him, then at his chips again, then at my cards again...before finally going all in. Everyone else folded, and he called with a suited KQ. I ended up making aces full of tens and my stack went up over $25,000, the highwater mark of the tournament.
Then the cards went dead again. Dan Harrington got knocked out two tables away from me and walked right past me to do an ESPN interview. He got a standing ovation from the whole room, including me. Harrington's two books were a huge help for me, and it felt odd to see him bust out before I did. Apparently I even held up the action at our table for a moment as I was standing and applauding while the action was on me.
Harrington is a tight player and his books preach patience, which had gotten me this far and looked like it would get me to the dinner break again, which was fifteen minutes away when I was dealt pocket kings. I raised to $2500 and got one caller--exactly what you want to happen. He took quite a while to make the call so I thought he had a borderline hand. The flop came 6-8-9. Perfect. I was first to act and bet out $7000. He thought long and hard before calling. He had a ton of chips and clearly was on a draw of some sort. Me, I had about $11,000 left at this point after my two big bets. The turn brought a useless deuce. I thought for a moment, knowing that I had the best hand, and pushed it all in. He eventually called and revealed a 6-7. He had called a $2500 raise pre-flop with a suited 6-7. Absurd. But I was right all along--he was on a draw and I had him beat.
Until a 7 fell on the river. He made two pair, and I was out of the tournament. I was stunned. I made my way out of the tournament area and Erik and I made a beeline to the bar, where we quickly downed several Captain and Diet Cokes and I made a few requisite "I'm out" phone calls and sent a few text messages. I couldn't believe it was over.
After taking some time to get a little distance from everything, I realized that my feelings about everything couldn't be more conflicted. I was completely happy with how I played. I was in the biggest tournament in the history of poker and I finished in the top 20% and outlasted many of my heroes. That felt great. And I went out on a hand that I read right and played right...but it still knocked me out, and that felt terrible. If I had won that hand, I would have been over $50,000 in chips and I would have been looking really good. But it just didn't happen. I had an incredible time and it was a great experience, but I was left with a painful, nagging feeling that I still have been unable to shake: I can play with those guys. They're the best in the world, and I can play with them.
I'll fill in more of what has happened since soon. Nothing earth-shattering, although I have read a couple of good books.
I'm back home, and it's been long enough that I can finally sit down and write about it all. This will probably be long and rambling, if only to make up for the dearth of posts lately.
So where was I? That's right, I was in Vegas for the WSOP. My friend Shaw B was in town with a bunch of his buddies from Dallas, a rowdy crew of guys that I had never met. I met them at The Palms and we had a blast. They were all sitting at a blackjack table together and Shaw relinquished his third base seat to me. To make a long story short, the session ended after everyone there won a decent amount of cash and we all pounded a round of shots called a Red Headed Slut right there at the table. After that, we headed up to Ghostbar, one of Palms' notoriously cool hipster hangouts. This one happened to be 55 stories up, including a balcony patio with a gorgeous view of all of Las Vegas. Good times.
After several absurdly expensive cocktails, we made our way back downstairs, only to find ourselves all sitting down to play blackjack once again. What ensused was classic Vegas material: we all were feeling good and had had plenty of beverages, so of course that led to even more rowdy behavior at the table, exacerbated by the fact that we hit a tremendous stretch of cards. We had a blast. The details were a little sketchy even the next morning, let alone this long after the fact, so we'll just leave it at that.
I spent the next couple of days scouting out the WSOP and just having fun. Poker legends were everywhere, as were Hollywood celebrities. I saw Antonio Esfandiari at least five times. We saw Jennifer Tilly out and about more than once, wearing her WSOP bracelet, which I thought was great. I caught Tobey Maguire playing some high-limit Hold 'Em at Bellagio. I met Phil Hellmuth at a party and he was great. All in all, it was a fun and crazy week.
I started the tournament on Saturday at 11 AM and I was understandably a little nervous. However, those feelings quickly passed and I settled in to play my best game. For the record, my first hand ever at the WSOP was a glorious 2-8 off suit...glorious in that I didn't even have to think about playing it. I played pretty tight at first and it became evident that almost my entire table was filled with players that weren't very good. The lone exception was the player on my left, a friendly and personable guy about my age who went by the name of Tex. We got to chatting a little bit and really only got involved in two pots against each other. In one, we were the only players to see the flop and although I had no hand at all, I made a token bluff. He raised right back at me and I laid it down. This was very early, so it didn't cost much. In the other hand, I hit a fluky full house and he laid down his hand after I made a sizable bet on the river.
Shaw B and Erik, my faithful railbirds, also took a liking to Tex's wife, whom they met as they were all watching us. But Tex and I soon parted ways, as our table broke up pretty early. I wouldn't run into him again, although several days later I found out (spoiler warnings for anyone waiting for the ESPN coverage) that Tex went on to make the final table and finish in 3rd place, winning a cool $2.5 million. From all indications, he is a great player and a great guy, so good for him. And I'd bet good money that his wife logs some ESPN camera time.
The rest of Saturday was fairly uneventful. My stack didn't make any huge swings one way or the other. I did knock out a couple of other players and sit next to a couple of other pros, notably Gavin Griffin and Arnold Spee, who were both very nice guys--in 2004, Gavin became the youngest player ever to win a WSOP bracelet; Arnold won a World Poker Tour event in Reno, defeating Phil Ivey, among others. Late that night I went pretty card dead and was basically happy to have survived the day with a bigger stack than I started with. I ended the night with $12,000 and change in chips, which we bagged up at around 2:30 AM. I then went outside to find the longest cab line I've ever seen at a hotel in my life. I got to bed at around 4.
I came back eager and ready to play on Sunday and won a decent pot with AK on the first hand of the day. Shortly after that, former champ Chris Moneymaker busted out three tables away from mine. I got a chance to meet Chris and chat with him a little bit on Thursday and he was incredibly nice and gracious, just a super guy, and accomodating as can be for someone who still gets hounded everywhere by fans.
The cards went dead again and I just hung around, waiting for my shot. It finally came in the afternoon when my stack was down to about $11,000 and I was dealt pocket aces for the first time in the tournament. A very loose player with a big stack two seats to my right raised to $2500, so this was my chance. I wanted to get all of my money in, and I wanted him (and only him) to call me. Thus, it was Hollywood time. With one player sitting between us, I went into full acting mode, leaning out, staring at his stack of chips, then checking my own stack, then looking at him, then at his chips again, then at my cards again...before finally going all in. Everyone else folded, and he called with a suited KQ. I ended up making aces full of tens and my stack went up over $25,000, the highwater mark of the tournament.
Then the cards went dead again. Dan Harrington got knocked out two tables away from me and walked right past me to do an ESPN interview. He got a standing ovation from the whole room, including me. Harrington's two books were a huge help for me, and it felt odd to see him bust out before I did. Apparently I even held up the action at our table for a moment as I was standing and applauding while the action was on me.
Harrington is a tight player and his books preach patience, which had gotten me this far and looked like it would get me to the dinner break again, which was fifteen minutes away when I was dealt pocket kings. I raised to $2500 and got one caller--exactly what you want to happen. He took quite a while to make the call so I thought he had a borderline hand. The flop came 6-8-9. Perfect. I was first to act and bet out $7000. He thought long and hard before calling. He had a ton of chips and clearly was on a draw of some sort. Me, I had about $11,000 left at this point after my two big bets. The turn brought a useless deuce. I thought for a moment, knowing that I had the best hand, and pushed it all in. He eventually called and revealed a 6-7. He had called a $2500 raise pre-flop with a suited 6-7. Absurd. But I was right all along--he was on a draw and I had him beat.
Until a 7 fell on the river. He made two pair, and I was out of the tournament. I was stunned. I made my way out of the tournament area and Erik and I made a beeline to the bar, where we quickly downed several Captain and Diet Cokes and I made a few requisite "I'm out" phone calls and sent a few text messages. I couldn't believe it was over.
After taking some time to get a little distance from everything, I realized that my feelings about everything couldn't be more conflicted. I was completely happy with how I played. I was in the biggest tournament in the history of poker and I finished in the top 20% and outlasted many of my heroes. That felt great. And I went out on a hand that I read right and played right...but it still knocked me out, and that felt terrible. If I had won that hand, I would have been over $50,000 in chips and I would have been looking really good. But it just didn't happen. I had an incredible time and it was a great experience, but I was left with a painful, nagging feeling that I still have been unable to shake: I can play with those guys. They're the best in the world, and I can play with them.
I'll fill in more of what has happened since soon. Nothing earth-shattering, although I have read a couple of good books.
Thursday, July 07, 2005
Tuesday - part one
On Tuesday morning, the alarm clock went off at the ungodly hour of 4:10 AM. I had what cannot truly be considered "sleep," but rather a few hours of laying in bed and picturing busting out Phil Hellmuth. But all things considered, I felt surprisingly refreshed and hopped right out of bed.
We arrived at the Little Rock airport shortly before 5 AM. I think that this particular airport has a sum total of 12 gates...which was great. No snags getting to the gate, aside from the woman in front of me who held up the security checkpoint a little bit. Apparently she thought that she'd have no problem clearing the metal detector with her six metal bracelets on.
Once at the gate, I popped on the iPod and tried to catch a quick nap. This prospect was made a little bit tougher by the presence of two young kids, one of whom seemed to be trying to cough up a lung while the other chattered away like a chimp. Naturally, upon boarding, Plauge Girl and Monkey Boy were one row behind me. I debated whether blasting cold air on my face would do anything to combat the germs or just contaminate me quicker. I opted for a light breeze and a cran-apple juice for some much-needed vitamin C.
The plane from Little Rock to Dallas was a puddle-jumper that may or may not have been held together with rubber bands and duct tape. The only thing that could possibly make this flight any less appealing was the captain's announcement that "we've got a couple of things going on." I'm quite sure that during the entire recorded history of air travel, this has never been followed by good news. No pilot ever says "we've got a couple of things going on: surf and turf in coach and free cocktails for everybody!" In this case, the flight was oversold and some weather had come up on our flight route, and we would now be "flying around it." Thus, we took the scenic route over Mississippi and Louisiana. In Dallas, said weather put another kink in the plans, keeping us on the runway for about 90 minutes. I slept the whole time.
In Vegas, I checked into my hotel...at the airport terminal. I cannot explain how brilliant this concept is. The hotel line took 5-10 minutes, after which I was completely checked in, including room keys. Then I walked out to the first baggage carousel, within sight of the hotel line, and immediately grabbed my bag and hopped in a cab. My driver apparently has aspirations of joining the NASCAR circuit, as I'm pretty sure he hit about 200 miles an hour. Fine by me, as he got me there quickly.
I don't want to hog the computer here at the Full Tilt suite for too long, so I'll update again when I can. Juicy content to expect includes my first trip to the Palms, more poker pros than I could shake a stick at, and my official registration for the WSOP (I got Saturday, day three).
Talk to you soon.
We arrived at the Little Rock airport shortly before 5 AM. I think that this particular airport has a sum total of 12 gates...which was great. No snags getting to the gate, aside from the woman in front of me who held up the security checkpoint a little bit. Apparently she thought that she'd have no problem clearing the metal detector with her six metal bracelets on.
Once at the gate, I popped on the iPod and tried to catch a quick nap. This prospect was made a little bit tougher by the presence of two young kids, one of whom seemed to be trying to cough up a lung while the other chattered away like a chimp. Naturally, upon boarding, Plauge Girl and Monkey Boy were one row behind me. I debated whether blasting cold air on my face would do anything to combat the germs or just contaminate me quicker. I opted for a light breeze and a cran-apple juice for some much-needed vitamin C.
The plane from Little Rock to Dallas was a puddle-jumper that may or may not have been held together with rubber bands and duct tape. The only thing that could possibly make this flight any less appealing was the captain's announcement that "we've got a couple of things going on." I'm quite sure that during the entire recorded history of air travel, this has never been followed by good news. No pilot ever says "we've got a couple of things going on: surf and turf in coach and free cocktails for everybody!" In this case, the flight was oversold and some weather had come up on our flight route, and we would now be "flying around it." Thus, we took the scenic route over Mississippi and Louisiana. In Dallas, said weather put another kink in the plans, keeping us on the runway for about 90 minutes. I slept the whole time.
In Vegas, I checked into my hotel...at the airport terminal. I cannot explain how brilliant this concept is. The hotel line took 5-10 minutes, after which I was completely checked in, including room keys. Then I walked out to the first baggage carousel, within sight of the hotel line, and immediately grabbed my bag and hopped in a cab. My driver apparently has aspirations of joining the NASCAR circuit, as I'm pretty sure he hit about 200 miles an hour. Fine by me, as he got me there quickly.
I don't want to hog the computer here at the Full Tilt suite for too long, so I'll update again when I can. Juicy content to expect includes my first trip to the Palms, more poker pros than I could shake a stick at, and my official registration for the WSOP (I got Saturday, day three).
Talk to you soon.
Monday, July 04, 2005
Off to Vegas
Well, I leave for the airport in about five hours and tonight, really for the first time, I started to get anxious and excited about everything. I know that it will be a great experience and something I'll remember forever but I don't want to just show up--I want to do well. I guess we'll see how it all turns out.
I'd love to update the blog while I'm out there but I won't have a computer with me so I don't know if it will be possible. But I'll see what I can do. I hope everyone had a great holiday weekend and I look forward to talking to you soon. World Series, here I come!
I'd love to update the blog while I'm out there but I won't have a computer with me so I don't know if it will be possible. But I'll see what I can do. I hope everyone had a great holiday weekend and I look forward to talking to you soon. World Series, here I come!
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