On Day 3 of my most recent Vegas adventure, I was all set to play in the $1100 HPT main event. I’d spent 15 minutes too long making myself pretty in order to make it into the 10:00am flight (which was full), and the 2nd flight wasn’t until 6:00pm, so I had ample time to cruise around the casino, chatting with other players and people that I knew. I also had the pleasure of re-telling the “Pete got into a fight with some European guy” story several times as well.
Time flew by, as it usually does when I’m on vacation, and before I knew it I was searching for my seat. I wasn’t seated with any pros that I recognized, but seated at a table nearby was David Singer. Now, I’m not entirely certain of this, but Mr. Singer may suffer from some kind of bladder-control issue. The guy got up like, at least twice every blind level, and the degree to which the tables were smashed together made leaving one’s seat a rather impossible task. In order to get to the bathroom (or wherever he kept disappearing to), Mr. Singer had to tap my shoulder, say, “excuse me please”, and then wait while I picked up my drink, grabbed my purse, and scootched my chair in until my chest was pressed uncomfortably against the table. At that point he’d do his best to shimmy through the small opening that I’d managed to create in order for him to make his escape. Four to six minutes later, we’d repeat the action so that Mr. Singer could return to his seat. It was quite a production. At the first break, I saw him complaining rather vocally to the floor manager about the way that the tables were set up. Having played under much worse circumstances than “the tables are too close together”, I was rather amused that David Singer was making such a big deal about it when I was the one who was inconvenienced every time he had to pee.
I had a good run to start the tournament. My table was a great assortment of weak-tight rookies, tight-aggressive regulars, a couple of obvious online players, one other female, and of course, the token loudmouth with the big ego who clearly considered himself an expert on everything. I was lucky enough to pick up a couple of small pots almost immediately, and felt comfortable enough to splash around a bit, raising often in position, and playing a couple of “sneak attack” hands (8-9 suited, pocket 3’s, etc.) to see if I could get lucky and scoop a monster early on. In the second or third blind level, having been in quite a few hands so far, I decided to change it up a bit and limped with A-Q in early position to see what kind of action followed. The player on my left limped, and the small and big blinds both called. The flop was queen high with 2 clubs. The small blind (the Loudmouth) checked, and so did the big blind, putting the action on me. I was calculating a bet when the dealer stopped the action and told the big blind he’d acted out of turn, as she had not seen the small blind check. I waited patiently, listening to my ipod while they sorted it out, and when it appeared the matter was resolved, I looked at the dealer, raised my eyebrows and gestured towards myself as if to say, “It’s my action, correct?” She nodded and I reached for chips as I announced my bet. I tossed my chips out and then heard one of the players say, “I thought she checked.” Assuming I hadn’t been loud enough to be heard over the music blaring from the nearby bar, I pulled out an ear bud and re-stated my bet. The dealer looked embarrassed, said she’d been flustered by missing the action earlier, apologized, and said that she had interpreted my “Is it my turn?” gesture as a check. Seriously? You have GOT to be kidding me. One thing I never do is make ambiguous action, as it only breeds confusion, as is clearly illustrated by this incident. I hate it when people flap their arms around and call it a check. If you can’t tap the table like a normal person, just say “check.” Of course, no one at this table knew that about me, as they were all complete strangers. I told the dealer it was my fault, I should have been more clear, and took my bet back. Unfortunately, the player to my left who had NOT mistaken my gesture as a check, had already mucked his cards. At this point the dealer felt terrible, and asked if she should call the floor. I sighed and agreed that she better do exactly that. When the floor man arrived, the dealer explained the action, and a couple of players chimed in on my side (that it was clear that I was going to bet), while a couple of others agreed with the dealer that my action looked like a check. Much to my irritation, the floor ruled my action was a check, and said too-bad-so-sad to the player who’d mucked his hand after I bet. The turn was a raggedy 3, both remaining players checked to me, and I made the same bet that I had attempted to make on the flop. The Loudmouth called and the other player folded. The river card was a third spade, Loudmouth checked, and although I was rather disgruntled (how dare that flush card show up after all this mess!), I fired the appropriate bet. Loudmouth flat-called and turned up a 6-3 of spades for the flush. I showed my A-Q and sighed, “Well, I guess if you called with your draw on the turn, you would have for sure called my bet on the flop.” Then Loudmouth had the nerve to say that he would have folded on the flop, and only called the turn bet because he hit a pair (with the free card he got due to me “checking” the flop) to go with his flush draw. (Yes, because a pair of 3’s was bound to be a really big help there.) What a jerk. I know he just said that to piss me off, since he’d been trying to push peoples’ buttons ever since he sat down. I proceeded to get rivered twice more before the first break, and ended up sitting tight with a short stack, fuming over the accidental check, hating the Loudmouth, and hoping for a chance to steal a pot or two. I was able to steal blinds and antes a couple of times, then double up with pocket kings. A few short hands later, I was heaving a shaky sigh on the rail after having my pocket queens cracked by A-Q. Poor, poor, poor little Gina. Oh, well. I’ll get ‘em next time.
Dimitri Nobles was, fortunately, not present at this event. Thus I was spared the additional trauma of having a stranger accost my leg with his genitalia (again). However, all things considered, this was by far one of the most fun, exciting, unreal trips I have ever taken. The beautiful resort, the VIP treatment, the good company, and the good poker made for some fast action and some amazing memories. Other highlights include:
-$1 beers during the Vikings/Cowboys playoff game, which of course, the Vikings won. Yay!!
-Getting mistaken for a hooker. Twice.
-The pool at the Red Rock was ahhhh-MAZE-ing. And the view? Wow.
-The guy from New York who tried to impress me with a giant, gaudy Yankees tattoo, not realizing that the only thing he could have showed me that I would have found more offensive may have been a swastika.
-Pete getting shoved into the hot tub on the balcony of the penthouse suite, fully clothed.
-Throwing up into an ice bucket after too many shots, yet still managing to get a laugh by busting out lines from The Hangover…”I can’t have juice right now.”
-A very cool sushi place on the Strip called Ra that featured a live dj, spinning some of the best music ever.
-Meeting and getting my photo taken with two random drunk guys dressed in full pirate costumes (and makeup) inside of the Venetian.
Thanks again to the HPT for making their “Vegas Vacation” an affair to remember. Additional thanks to the Free Poker Network for helping us to book the flight and hotel, and last but not least, special thanks to Chris Hanson for not leaving us in Vegas when we were rather (totally embarrassingly) late for the shuttle back to the airport. (Oops.)
, to let me go away to play poker. That being said, I did put on the calender about two months ago, the River Cities Showdown 3 in Grand Forks, ND. It’s about an hour from where I live and it was a $200, 20k, 40 minute level tournament. I was joined at the event by Todd Anderson from the HPT and HPT final table alums Lance Harris, Nate Avenson, Scott Eckert, Brian Johnson and Chad Ransom. All told there were 130 players in this two day event. Here is a quick recap of my play.