The WPT Invitational - Part 4
Part 1 of this story is here, followed by Part 2 and Part 3.
(NOTE: I also wanna stress that this was so whirlwind, I took exactly *zero* notes for this portion. Sorry if it's rambling.)
Wil has just been asked by a WPT staff member if he wants in on a cash game with Ray Romano and Jon Favreau. Brad Garrett is standing with the two, and it looks like he's going to be coming along. The staff member waits for Wil's answer.
There is an eerie silence in our little portion of the tournament room. The sound of chips and talking completely leave my ears. Wil and I are both kinda frozen. There's a huge struggle going on in his head. Go home and have dinner with family... or play poker with those guys.
I quickly jump in and turn into the little angel (or devil, if you like) on his shoulder.
"Dude... you can't pass that up."
"Yeah, but they're gonna be playing for tons of money." The staff member shakes his head.
"They just want to play 100 buy-in No Limit."
My jaw *drops*. I resolve to beat up Wil if he says no, I don't care how much of a scene it'll cause.
"I don't know, I need to call home," Wil says.
"Alright, well, let me know."
I quickly start to think way too hard about the situation. "Wil, if you get me into that game..." I don't need to finish the sentence. Wil is starting to crack.
"Just for the sheer writing possibilities," I stab. He still says nothing.
"I forgot my debit card. If you stake me, I'll give you half of whatever I win. I'm good for it." Wil chuckles but still says nothing, looking at his cell phone.
"ALL OF IT. I will give you everything I win to be in that game, but just don't let that staff member walk away!" A tinge of desperation enters my voice, but I know that I've said my peace on it. It's all up to Mr. Wheaton.
"I think I have to do it," Wil says, and I quickly open the rope line so he can go and say yes. I follow behind.
The crewman is standing with Jon, Ray, and Brad, as they circle together and talk about how this will work. Wil cuts in and the crewman turns to him.
"You in?" he says, pointing at him. Wil nods in the affirmative, and he starts to direct us downstairs where they're preparing a table in the high-limit area. But then Wil suddenly surprises me:
"Can my buddy get in on the game too?"
"Sure, we need more people anyway." I play it cool and nod with a satisfied smile, making a mental note to nominate Wil for the Nobel Prize in whatever category they're still accepting applications for. We walk back down the stairs, leaving heaven for terra firma, and I can't help but feel a tinge of fanboy as Jon Favreau leads us down to the poker room. If Vince Vaughn and Patrick Van Horn suddenly appeared in nice suits rambling about their babies, I wouldn't even blink.
"All of it," I remind Wil. I look over. I think he's as much in fanboy mode as I am.
We're walking alongside Favreau down to the table where the one of the Commerce execs, John Griffo, is waiting for us. They've picked a table right off one of the main walkways and put a rope line around it. The casino is showing us off to the innocent bystanders. This should be interesting for sure.
We start to take seats, and I quickly grab the 5s so I can sit dead center and see everyone. Wil saves himself the 6s and goes off to the ATM, but Jon gets back first and I don't have the gumption to tell him the seat is taken. Wil ends up grabbing the 4s, and the table fills. I shake hands with everyone and introduce myself, and I get a bit of an internal giggle when Ray feels the need to introduce himself to me as well. "I'm Ray," he says as we talk for the first time.
"No shit," I think to myself. Don't know if that would be funny to him or not.
The LINEUP:
Seat 1 - Denise, actress - Brunette bombshell
Seat 2 - Rossi Morreale
Seat 3 - Beth, actress (?) - Blonde bombshell
Seat 4 - Wil Wheaton
Seat 5 - Me
Seat 6 - Jon Favreau
Seat 7 - Ray Romano
Seat 8 - "Simmy" (?)
Seat 9 - Brad Garrett
It drove me nuts because I recognized the guy in the 8s. I knew he was an actor, but couldn't place him. He played like he was frustrated for laughs the whole night.
A debate went up at the table if they should up the buy-in a bit. My heart jumped a tad because while Wil might cover me for now for 100, I wasn't about to ask him to pony up anymore. If they upped it to 200, I'd just give him my 100 and watch. But thankfully, they decide to keep it where it is and the game gets going.
As the first cards are dealt out, I have a sensation akin to having stood up from the kiddie table and grabbing a chair with the grownups. A kind of an unconscious worry that at any moment, they might figure out I'm not supposed to really be here. Ray will ask what films I've worked on, and when I can't cough up a title they'll call over a guard and escort me out. This is the shit that goes through my head at times like these. But for now, I look down at 46o and toss it out.
The blinds at Commerce for 100 NL is 2/3, and Ray's just raised it to 20 after Jon limped. Brad and Jon both call.
The flop is rags and everyone is betting. I watch as Ray and Brad both get all-in, and Ray wins with... middle pair.
"It's monopoly money, Ray," Brad says. "I'm gonna get you back for that." He whips out another 100 dollars and Wil and I look at each other... we both know we've just struck gold. All we have to do is catch something, ANYTHING, and we're doubling up.
Unfortunately, no cards come for either of us for the first hour or so. Ray builds his stack up to something like 500 dollars, with horrible horrible hands. Ray and Brad are constantly the only two in the pot, dueling back and forth. Once both of them push and they chop when Brad shows A2 and Ray shows A3, but the kickers don't play.
"C'mon, 'Choppy', gimme a hand here," Brad snaps. Everyone's having fun.
"Hey, what can I say, My show's over, I need to make money somehow."
"What, this is for grocery money now?" I throw back.
Beth and Denise are playing poker for the first time ever, and will see flops with any face card. Rossi is raising and bluffing constantly. Jon buys in a couple times over, as does Simmy. If I could only catch some goddamn cards, I would be taking these people, but it's not happening yet.
I look behind me, and there's about half a dozen people watching. I wonder if they're going around the table recognizing everyone, and then questioning who the guy in the 5s is. I'm wearing my Red Sox cap and sunglasses and nice leather jacket, maybe they'll think I'm a director or something. Here's hoping.
"Hey, you really a Red Sox fan or do you just wear the hat?" Rossi asks. I confirm I'm an actual fan and we exchange high fives. BF Dent's name comes up from Simmy's direction and we have a good laugh. Someone says, "I hope they don't win for another 86 years, so my kids can experience the same pain and humiliation that I went through all that time." Everyone kinda nods in agreement. "I dunno, I'd just settle for the public execution of Aaron Boone," I say. Another good laugh.
I finally get a mediocre hand in the BB, 9Ts, when Brad pre-flop raises to 30. I look more than annoyed, even through my glasses and hat.
"Brad, why you gotta do that to me?"
"Hey, you've been folding for an hour, it shouldn't hurt so bad!" His voice booms at the table, and I actually start laughing.
"What, you think I'm bluffing or something?"
"No, it's just..." I decide there's no way to articulate how completely absurd this moment is for me. An Emmy award winner is taunting me into folding. I know the crap these guys have been playing, but I can't bring myself to call him. I muck the cards and Brad offers encouragement. "That's the way," he says assuringly.
Ray leans behind Jon and taps me on the shoulder. "Hey, Chris," he asks in a semi-hushed tone. He remembered my name. Score.
"Yeah?"
"Is that Wil... Wheaton?" I chuckle a bit and nod.
"Cool." He smiles and goes back to his game.
I continue my folding session when Skeet Ulrich comes over, down from his high, to stand behind Jon. I feel compelled to talk to him. We make introductions and I ask him if the guy walking around upstairs with the Scream laserdisc was stalking him with an autograph.
"Yeah, bastard caught me," he says with a laugh. "Wonder who let him in." I shrug and we somehow segue onto a strange subject: Patrone liquor. I manage to fake knowing what I'm talking about due to one of my teachers at the DAVE School being nuts for the stuff, and Skeet is excited about Patrone Platinum, which is apparently a week old.
"No shit, they have that here?"
"Nah, they just have Silver. We were doing shots during the tourney upstairs."
"Should order up some more, I think our drinks are complementary over here."
"Really? Shit." He starts to look around for a porter, but nobody's around at the moment except security guards and rubbernecking observers.
Finally, Ray and Brad decide that Blackjack is more to their liking. The nickle and dime nature of this game has worn on them. Commerce scrambles to get them their own table and once they've secured one, they both get up... Ray's up about 300, Brad is probably down for the same amount.
As they leave, I shake my head and say to myself, "Wow." Jon looks over, an bit of a grin.
"Having fun?"
"Yeah, there's no way I'm not writing about *this* night."
"You're writing this? I should start playing better then."
About 9PM, Wil's out of his buy-in and needs to get home. "Keep playing, we'll settle up later," he says. He shakes hands with everyone and talks to Jon for a minute about his show at Acme, and then takes off. I make sure to thank him up and down 20 times for getting me into this game before he leaves.
Everyone's seats are quickly filled by others. Brad's seat is taken up by Steve Lipscomb, the frickin' head of the World Poker Tour. I bow in humble servitude and thank him for all the shows. He stands up from the table at one point and I run over to speak to him.
"Question for you sir," I say.
"Shoot."
"The Party Poker Million... it's still limit this year, right?"
"Yeah, though I wish it wasn't."
I do a double take.
"Why is it limit then?"
"Cause Party Poker likes to be able to brag that it's the world's largest limit tournament."
"That's funny... I can't find anywhere in their marketing what format it's in, Limit or no. A lot of us were starting to wonder."
"Oh, you're going?"
"9 buck qualifier makes good."
"Congrats!"
That becomes the subject of conversation. Steve is a funny, personable guy that was happy to talk to me and genuinely loves poker. He's pretty decent, too. It's no wonder he's such a friggin' success.
After I sit back down Jon leaves with a handshake and thank yous, and Denise moves from the 1s to my left, which I don't mind in the slightest. Beth has been doing well because everyone bluffs at her and nobody realizes that you don't bluff at someone that doesn't know what they're doing, unless you're absolutely sure they have nothing. She's up to 350 dollars. It's unreal.
However, I finally get a hand with ATs and proceed to show them how its done by bluffing at a king high flop. Beth is in the hand as well as another gent who won't shut up about how you can't make a straight without a 5 or a 10, thus making them "very powerful cards". Both Beth and the guru call, and the guru is all in at this point, but there's a generous side pot for me to still make another stab at bluffing.
Beth is playing before me, and she's asking for advice. She always needs to be reminded that you don't have to bet, and you can tell when this is either a relief or a puzzler for her. She starts to bet, then says, "Wait, can I just check?" and everyone says yes. I quickly go all in after she does, and she folds with a frown. I keep my cards face down until the river, when I spike an Ace and take the pot from the guru, who was holding a king and isn't too happy either.
A sharp dressed man named Jim sits down in the now vacant 1s, who apparently represents Negreanu. Very cool guy. We talk a lot of online poker and I actually talk to him (and everyone else once I get started) about the whole shades thing. Beth finally asks me to take them off because she has a hard time talking to me. I comply, because I'm a big dumb male and she's so gosh-darn purty. Rossi makes some offer to lick every inch of her body at one point. He says it just jokingly enough that if she rebuffs him, he can excuse it as humor. I think he's actually making a play. It fits right along with his poker style.
Denise and Rossi get in a raised pot together when the flop is AQQ. Denise isn't sure what to do, acting first. She lets me look at her hole cards... she's got AA and a boat on the flop!!! Man, beginner's luck is so nice. She whispers, "Should I go all in?" I look at Rossi who's slightly distracted, and say, "Bet a little." She tosses out a post-oak 15 dollar bet, which Rossi quickly raises to 45.
"Okay, *now* go all in," I say. She does and Rossi calls. The turn brings another Q (uh oh) and a Ten on the river.
Rossi has a huge shit eating grin on his face, and I think Denise just got the jackpot hand. Did quads just beat aces full? Please god, say it's so!!!
"I got Queens over Kings," He says, flipping over Cowboys. MORON. There's an Ace and 2 queens on the board, and you're raising with Kings? You're dead to anything matching the board! Oh well, it makes the next moment even sweeter...
"Show him your cards, Denise."
She flips over the rockets and everyone explodes in laughter and applause. Rossi is dumbfounded, though he shouldn't be. He earned every chip being sent out of his grasp on that one. You'd think if he saw the tight-aggressive player telling her how to play it, he'd figure it out.
But he's a TV personality. The pretty faced arm-candy of the video entertainment world. I should not be too surprised.
Another big hand when I limp with 8Ts and the flop comes 79J, and the 9J are my suit: Open ended straight flush draw! Denise is the only person to call my 20 dollar opening bet, and I know she'll call any other bet I throw at her. The turn is a blank, and I bet 40. She calls again. The river is another blank, and I hold the nuts. I bet 60 and she takes forever (as I show Jim across the table my cards and he gives a knowing nod), but she finally calls. My chipstack is finally getting presentable.
The last big hand I play is a big-blind special: I hold J6 and the flop comes J66. Holy crap. Rich Wilens, a poker radio guy from Phoenix, is now in the 8s and had gone all in with 48o and WON. I know he's gonna call anything I throw at him if he caught anything, but I gotta start small.
Bet 15. Call.
Turn: K. Bet 60. Call.
Then, disaster. As the river comes down, I push all in. I'm ready to double up. Gimme my money. I'm pumped.
"Do you have the Jack?"
I'm not looking his direction and I think he's put his chips in. "I have a boat," I say, flipping up my J6 and they don't even hit the ground before the dealer can shout "No!" and try and stop me.
I look left... Rich hasn't called yet. And he was going to. He mucks his cards and I only get to win 75 for my efforts as opposed to 250.
Oh well. I've more than tripled up. I'm going to be happy about that. Around midnight I decide I've done enough damage, and I pick up a rack. Final tally for the night: 331 dollars. This will be the first time in ages I've left Commerce with cash.
And now I promised to give it to Wil. Aw *man*.
============================
Epilogue
I've been sitting recounting this day for the last 72 hours, and it still seems like something out of a weird poker fantasy brought to life. There are people out there that would pay large sums of money to be able to share the experience I did. Above my computer, the badge from the event hangs proudly on the wall. I received business cards from countless people, including execs from Commerce who thought I must be a bigger fish than I actually am. Jim in the 1s also gave me his card, and we're gonna set him up with PokerTracker and get him on Party ASAP. He's a regular at the 10/20 game at HP and if he can hold his own there, he's gonna *love* PartyPoker with statistics thrown in. And Rich Wilens and I also exchanged info, and I'm definitely gonna check out his show.
All in all, the day was also meaningful in terms of connections as well as being mind-blowingly fun. I was accused by at least one reader of making some of this up. But my imagination just isn't this good. Truth is stranger than fiction, and my name is not Amarillo Slim, tossing off tall tales and hustling every mark that comes his way.
I am but a happy-go-lucky poker enthusiast that's lucky enough to have a very, very good friend.
Thanks Wil.
-PokerGeek
(NOTE: I also wanna stress that this was so whirlwind, I took exactly *zero* notes for this portion. Sorry if it's rambling.)
Wil has just been asked by a WPT staff member if he wants in on a cash game with Ray Romano and Jon Favreau. Brad Garrett is standing with the two, and it looks like he's going to be coming along. The staff member waits for Wil's answer.
There is an eerie silence in our little portion of the tournament room. The sound of chips and talking completely leave my ears. Wil and I are both kinda frozen. There's a huge struggle going on in his head. Go home and have dinner with family... or play poker with those guys.
I quickly jump in and turn into the little angel (or devil, if you like) on his shoulder.
"Dude... you can't pass that up."
"Yeah, but they're gonna be playing for tons of money." The staff member shakes his head.
"They just want to play 100 buy-in No Limit."
My jaw *drops*. I resolve to beat up Wil if he says no, I don't care how much of a scene it'll cause.
"I don't know, I need to call home," Wil says.
"Alright, well, let me know."
I quickly start to think way too hard about the situation. "Wil, if you get me into that game..." I don't need to finish the sentence. Wil is starting to crack.
"Just for the sheer writing possibilities," I stab. He still says nothing.
"I forgot my debit card. If you stake me, I'll give you half of whatever I win. I'm good for it." Wil chuckles but still says nothing, looking at his cell phone.
"ALL OF IT. I will give you everything I win to be in that game, but just don't let that staff member walk away!" A tinge of desperation enters my voice, but I know that I've said my peace on it. It's all up to Mr. Wheaton.
"I think I have to do it," Wil says, and I quickly open the rope line so he can go and say yes. I follow behind.
The crewman is standing with Jon, Ray, and Brad, as they circle together and talk about how this will work. Wil cuts in and the crewman turns to him.
"You in?" he says, pointing at him. Wil nods in the affirmative, and he starts to direct us downstairs where they're preparing a table in the high-limit area. But then Wil suddenly surprises me:
"Can my buddy get in on the game too?"
"Sure, we need more people anyway." I play it cool and nod with a satisfied smile, making a mental note to nominate Wil for the Nobel Prize in whatever category they're still accepting applications for. We walk back down the stairs, leaving heaven for terra firma, and I can't help but feel a tinge of fanboy as Jon Favreau leads us down to the poker room. If Vince Vaughn and Patrick Van Horn suddenly appeared in nice suits rambling about their babies, I wouldn't even blink.
"All of it," I remind Wil. I look over. I think he's as much in fanboy mode as I am.
We're walking alongside Favreau down to the table where the one of the Commerce execs, John Griffo, is waiting for us. They've picked a table right off one of the main walkways and put a rope line around it. The casino is showing us off to the innocent bystanders. This should be interesting for sure.
We start to take seats, and I quickly grab the 5s so I can sit dead center and see everyone. Wil saves himself the 6s and goes off to the ATM, but Jon gets back first and I don't have the gumption to tell him the seat is taken. Wil ends up grabbing the 4s, and the table fills. I shake hands with everyone and introduce myself, and I get a bit of an internal giggle when Ray feels the need to introduce himself to me as well. "I'm Ray," he says as we talk for the first time.
"No shit," I think to myself. Don't know if that would be funny to him or not.
The LINEUP:
Seat 1 - Denise, actress - Brunette bombshell
Seat 2 - Rossi Morreale
Seat 3 - Beth, actress (?) - Blonde bombshell
Seat 4 - Wil Wheaton
Seat 5 - Me
Seat 6 - Jon Favreau
Seat 7 - Ray Romano
Seat 8 - "Simmy" (?)
Seat 9 - Brad Garrett
It drove me nuts because I recognized the guy in the 8s. I knew he was an actor, but couldn't place him. He played like he was frustrated for laughs the whole night.
A debate went up at the table if they should up the buy-in a bit. My heart jumped a tad because while Wil might cover me for now for 100, I wasn't about to ask him to pony up anymore. If they upped it to 200, I'd just give him my 100 and watch. But thankfully, they decide to keep it where it is and the game gets going.
As the first cards are dealt out, I have a sensation akin to having stood up from the kiddie table and grabbing a chair with the grownups. A kind of an unconscious worry that at any moment, they might figure out I'm not supposed to really be here. Ray will ask what films I've worked on, and when I can't cough up a title they'll call over a guard and escort me out. This is the shit that goes through my head at times like these. But for now, I look down at 46o and toss it out.
The blinds at Commerce for 100 NL is 2/3, and Ray's just raised it to 20 after Jon limped. Brad and Jon both call.
The flop is rags and everyone is betting. I watch as Ray and Brad both get all-in, and Ray wins with... middle pair.
"It's monopoly money, Ray," Brad says. "I'm gonna get you back for that." He whips out another 100 dollars and Wil and I look at each other... we both know we've just struck gold. All we have to do is catch something, ANYTHING, and we're doubling up.
Unfortunately, no cards come for either of us for the first hour or so. Ray builds his stack up to something like 500 dollars, with horrible horrible hands. Ray and Brad are constantly the only two in the pot, dueling back and forth. Once both of them push and they chop when Brad shows A2 and Ray shows A3, but the kickers don't play.
"C'mon, 'Choppy', gimme a hand here," Brad snaps. Everyone's having fun.
"Hey, what can I say, My show's over, I need to make money somehow."
"What, this is for grocery money now?" I throw back.
Beth and Denise are playing poker for the first time ever, and will see flops with any face card. Rossi is raising and bluffing constantly. Jon buys in a couple times over, as does Simmy. If I could only catch some goddamn cards, I would be taking these people, but it's not happening yet.
I look behind me, and there's about half a dozen people watching. I wonder if they're going around the table recognizing everyone, and then questioning who the guy in the 5s is. I'm wearing my Red Sox cap and sunglasses and nice leather jacket, maybe they'll think I'm a director or something. Here's hoping.
"Hey, you really a Red Sox fan or do you just wear the hat?" Rossi asks. I confirm I'm an actual fan and we exchange high fives. BF Dent's name comes up from Simmy's direction and we have a good laugh. Someone says, "I hope they don't win for another 86 years, so my kids can experience the same pain and humiliation that I went through all that time." Everyone kinda nods in agreement. "I dunno, I'd just settle for the public execution of Aaron Boone," I say. Another good laugh.
I finally get a mediocre hand in the BB, 9Ts, when Brad pre-flop raises to 30. I look more than annoyed, even through my glasses and hat.
"Brad, why you gotta do that to me?"
"Hey, you've been folding for an hour, it shouldn't hurt so bad!" His voice booms at the table, and I actually start laughing.
"What, you think I'm bluffing or something?"
"No, it's just..." I decide there's no way to articulate how completely absurd this moment is for me. An Emmy award winner is taunting me into folding. I know the crap these guys have been playing, but I can't bring myself to call him. I muck the cards and Brad offers encouragement. "That's the way," he says assuringly.
Ray leans behind Jon and taps me on the shoulder. "Hey, Chris," he asks in a semi-hushed tone. He remembered my name. Score.
"Yeah?"
"Is that Wil... Wheaton?" I chuckle a bit and nod.
"Cool." He smiles and goes back to his game.
I continue my folding session when Skeet Ulrich comes over, down from his high, to stand behind Jon. I feel compelled to talk to him. We make introductions and I ask him if the guy walking around upstairs with the Scream laserdisc was stalking him with an autograph.
"Yeah, bastard caught me," he says with a laugh. "Wonder who let him in." I shrug and we somehow segue onto a strange subject: Patrone liquor. I manage to fake knowing what I'm talking about due to one of my teachers at the DAVE School being nuts for the stuff, and Skeet is excited about Patrone Platinum, which is apparently a week old.
"No shit, they have that here?"
"Nah, they just have Silver. We were doing shots during the tourney upstairs."
"Should order up some more, I think our drinks are complementary over here."
"Really? Shit." He starts to look around for a porter, but nobody's around at the moment except security guards and rubbernecking observers.
Finally, Ray and Brad decide that Blackjack is more to their liking. The nickle and dime nature of this game has worn on them. Commerce scrambles to get them their own table and once they've secured one, they both get up... Ray's up about 300, Brad is probably down for the same amount.
As they leave, I shake my head and say to myself, "Wow." Jon looks over, an bit of a grin.
"Having fun?"
"Yeah, there's no way I'm not writing about *this* night."
"You're writing this? I should start playing better then."
About 9PM, Wil's out of his buy-in and needs to get home. "Keep playing, we'll settle up later," he says. He shakes hands with everyone and talks to Jon for a minute about his show at Acme, and then takes off. I make sure to thank him up and down 20 times for getting me into this game before he leaves.
Everyone's seats are quickly filled by others. Brad's seat is taken up by Steve Lipscomb, the frickin' head of the World Poker Tour. I bow in humble servitude and thank him for all the shows. He stands up from the table at one point and I run over to speak to him.
"Question for you sir," I say.
"Shoot."
"The Party Poker Million... it's still limit this year, right?"
"Yeah, though I wish it wasn't."
I do a double take.
"Why is it limit then?"
"Cause Party Poker likes to be able to brag that it's the world's largest limit tournament."
"That's funny... I can't find anywhere in their marketing what format it's in, Limit or no. A lot of us were starting to wonder."
"Oh, you're going?"
"9 buck qualifier makes good."
"Congrats!"
That becomes the subject of conversation. Steve is a funny, personable guy that was happy to talk to me and genuinely loves poker. He's pretty decent, too. It's no wonder he's such a friggin' success.
After I sit back down Jon leaves with a handshake and thank yous, and Denise moves from the 1s to my left, which I don't mind in the slightest. Beth has been doing well because everyone bluffs at her and nobody realizes that you don't bluff at someone that doesn't know what they're doing, unless you're absolutely sure they have nothing. She's up to 350 dollars. It's unreal.
However, I finally get a hand with ATs and proceed to show them how its done by bluffing at a king high flop. Beth is in the hand as well as another gent who won't shut up about how you can't make a straight without a 5 or a 10, thus making them "very powerful cards". Both Beth and the guru call, and the guru is all in at this point, but there's a generous side pot for me to still make another stab at bluffing.
Beth is playing before me, and she's asking for advice. She always needs to be reminded that you don't have to bet, and you can tell when this is either a relief or a puzzler for her. She starts to bet, then says, "Wait, can I just check?" and everyone says yes. I quickly go all in after she does, and she folds with a frown. I keep my cards face down until the river, when I spike an Ace and take the pot from the guru, who was holding a king and isn't too happy either.
A sharp dressed man named Jim sits down in the now vacant 1s, who apparently represents Negreanu. Very cool guy. We talk a lot of online poker and I actually talk to him (and everyone else once I get started) about the whole shades thing. Beth finally asks me to take them off because she has a hard time talking to me. I comply, because I'm a big dumb male and she's so gosh-darn purty. Rossi makes some offer to lick every inch of her body at one point. He says it just jokingly enough that if she rebuffs him, he can excuse it as humor. I think he's actually making a play. It fits right along with his poker style.
Denise and Rossi get in a raised pot together when the flop is AQQ. Denise isn't sure what to do, acting first. She lets me look at her hole cards... she's got AA and a boat on the flop!!! Man, beginner's luck is so nice. She whispers, "Should I go all in?" I look at Rossi who's slightly distracted, and say, "Bet a little." She tosses out a post-oak 15 dollar bet, which Rossi quickly raises to 45.
"Okay, *now* go all in," I say. She does and Rossi calls. The turn brings another Q (uh oh) and a Ten on the river.
Rossi has a huge shit eating grin on his face, and I think Denise just got the jackpot hand. Did quads just beat aces full? Please god, say it's so!!!
"I got Queens over Kings," He says, flipping over Cowboys. MORON. There's an Ace and 2 queens on the board, and you're raising with Kings? You're dead to anything matching the board! Oh well, it makes the next moment even sweeter...
"Show him your cards, Denise."
She flips over the rockets and everyone explodes in laughter and applause. Rossi is dumbfounded, though he shouldn't be. He earned every chip being sent out of his grasp on that one. You'd think if he saw the tight-aggressive player telling her how to play it, he'd figure it out.
But he's a TV personality. The pretty faced arm-candy of the video entertainment world. I should not be too surprised.
Another big hand when I limp with 8Ts and the flop comes 79J, and the 9J are my suit: Open ended straight flush draw! Denise is the only person to call my 20 dollar opening bet, and I know she'll call any other bet I throw at her. The turn is a blank, and I bet 40. She calls again. The river is another blank, and I hold the nuts. I bet 60 and she takes forever (as I show Jim across the table my cards and he gives a knowing nod), but she finally calls. My chipstack is finally getting presentable.
The last big hand I play is a big-blind special: I hold J6 and the flop comes J66. Holy crap. Rich Wilens, a poker radio guy from Phoenix, is now in the 8s and had gone all in with 48o and WON. I know he's gonna call anything I throw at him if he caught anything, but I gotta start small.
Bet 15. Call.
Turn: K. Bet 60. Call.
Then, disaster. As the river comes down, I push all in. I'm ready to double up. Gimme my money. I'm pumped.
"Do you have the Jack?"
I'm not looking his direction and I think he's put his chips in. "I have a boat," I say, flipping up my J6 and they don't even hit the ground before the dealer can shout "No!" and try and stop me.
I look left... Rich hasn't called yet. And he was going to. He mucks his cards and I only get to win 75 for my efforts as opposed to 250.
Oh well. I've more than tripled up. I'm going to be happy about that. Around midnight I decide I've done enough damage, and I pick up a rack. Final tally for the night: 331 dollars. This will be the first time in ages I've left Commerce with cash.
And now I promised to give it to Wil. Aw *man*.
============================
Epilogue
I've been sitting recounting this day for the last 72 hours, and it still seems like something out of a weird poker fantasy brought to life. There are people out there that would pay large sums of money to be able to share the experience I did. Above my computer, the badge from the event hangs proudly on the wall. I received business cards from countless people, including execs from Commerce who thought I must be a bigger fish than I actually am. Jim in the 1s also gave me his card, and we're gonna set him up with PokerTracker and get him on Party ASAP. He's a regular at the 10/20 game at HP and if he can hold his own there, he's gonna *love* PartyPoker with statistics thrown in. And Rich Wilens and I also exchanged info, and I'm definitely gonna check out his show.
All in all, the day was also meaningful in terms of connections as well as being mind-blowingly fun. I was accused by at least one reader of making some of this up. But my imagination just isn't this good. Truth is stranger than fiction, and my name is not Amarillo Slim, tossing off tall tales and hustling every mark that comes his way.
I am but a happy-go-lucky poker enthusiast that's lucky enough to have a very, very good friend.
Thanks Wil.
-PokerGeek
posted by Chris Hanel at
8:47 PM
