Two Plus Two Newer Archives - (OT) Trip report: I ship a brick

Prologue

Dinner at Koji: Dominic, Phil Van Sexton, Irieguy, TheUsher, tyler_cracker, pineapple888, and I meet for dinner. Everyone else is a nit and orders Chinese. I blow $40 on sushi and beer, a winning combination. TheUsher tells us Jman has pwned UPC’s cash game for a lot of money. Pineapple’s roommate, JackKnight, is on TV pwning UPC on Tuesday night. Life is good for 2+2’ers. We discuss topics ranging from the inevitable demise and rebirth of internet poker to hedge fund management. Irieguy takes off to join the real world.
The rest of us split to the poker room. Dom and I get 1/2NL seats at the same table right away since he’s had the foresight to put us on the list before dinner. Tyler plays 4/8, as is the style of people who live out of their bankroll. PVS and pineapple hang out and wait for seats. TheUsher disappears. I play two orbits of 1/2NL. I raise AA off the BB and then check-fold the K[img]/images/graemlins/club.gif[/img]J[img]/images/graemlins/club.gif[/img]J[img]/images/graemlins/spade.gif[/img] board three-handed to a pair of fish after it goes check-bet-push on the flop. Four hands later I raise KK from the CO and get five callers. Dom says “You raise to narrow the field, right?” Thanks. The flop comes Q-high junky rainbow. My 1/3-pot bet picks is up. One orbit later, I limp 55 from the CO and flop 5[img]/images/graemlins/diamond.gif[/img]2[img]/images/graemlins/diamond.gif[/img]2[img]/images/graemlins/heart.gif[/img]. Six of us check. The turn is the beautiful 3[img]/images/graemlins/diamond.gif[/img]. EP LAG bets ½-pot and three call. I value-bet the river and get paid off by a low flush and something else. Holdem rules.
Tyler and I get called for the 4/8 O8 game. Everyone is a crabby old nit. Eight people see every flop, and I lose 10 BB. Omaha sucks tonight. I cash out early up a small amount and waffle to PVS about playing the Caesars tournament on Sunday.

Caesars Saturday Noon Tournament:
For once on my life, I decide not to be a pussy. The Caesars nooner is now a $80+50r, so I don’t even need to sweat that the previous week’s honest work has left me with about 5 hours of brainpower left. I have a flight out at 730 pm, so that should be plenty of time to bust, right? I meet PVS and a few of his friends in line. I get seated, have a good early round, and end the rebuy with 7.5k, more than double the 4.5k I bought. PVS is hovering at about 4k.
In the middle rounds, I lose a coin flip, win with JJ twice, and generally play like a nit. I’m up to about 30k by the time I notice we’re down to four tables. Things are looking good. Tyler has shown with our friend Kiel (say “Kyle”), and they keep a casual eye on us with extracting money from the idiots in the limit cash games. PVS is rolling along as well. I play 4 hands with him at the table before getting moved. My big decision for the night comes on the bubble, blinds 2k/4k/200a. UTG LAG limps. It folds to me on the SB and I complete Q9o with about 30k behind. BB checks. The flop comes 7[img]/images/graemlins/heart.gif[/img]8[img]/images/graemlins/heart.gif[/img]9[img]/images/graemlins/club.gif[/img]. I stupidly check, BB minbets, UTG folds, and I call. The turn is the 7[img]/images/graemlins/club.gif[/img]. I check and BB pushes for about 20k. I decide I’m not beating enough at this point, and it’s probably best to just fold and resolve not to screw up again. Later, he tells me he had 76o. Nice fold, but bet the flop next time, dingus. The tables condense to two. ITM is fine, but the payout structure is so flat there’s very little point in not playing for the top spots.

I get a string of hands I can only describe as a parade of crap. PVS is at my table and watching me fold two orbits of hands under 4 BB. Can I buy a face card? He pushes QJ from the button and gets called by KQ. It sucked to see him crippled, but at the same time I was internally pleased the only other decent player was no longer a factor. He cashes about $300 for at least some time well spent. He and his friends head to dinner. I continue to milk my last few chips.

I fold 32o for at least the fourth time UTG. I’m all-in for exactly the BB and ante next hand. My 64o sucks out on the SB’s 83o and I have chips again. Another stupid all-in hand and I’m back to 5 BB. I shove 55 from EP and don’t get called, same with ATo. The tables combine. Final-tabling is fine with me, though I’d rather just get a hand worth playing. My 730 flight is long gone. Tyler calls my wife and tells her to not go pick me up at the airport.

People want to chop 9-handed. I say [censored] that since short stacks are inherently under-valued in a chip chop, and plus I play a short stack better than anyone there by far. People start hating me. I say I will discuss a chop 6-handed. I call a push with 85 of spades on the BB because I’m priced in. I’m ahead against SB’s 73 of clubs. A few short stacks bust, and it’s 6-handed. No one will chop with me because I’m an ass, or something. The TD gets called by the dealer to deal with some explicit softplay going on, as the table has agreed to bust me and chop 5-handed. WFT? I say nothing since I decided it was less –EV to have them softplaying against me for a little while than it was to make it a permanent thing by objecting. I double up with calling with KQ against AT AIPF and people think I’m a suckout artist. I’m getting 2:1 on that call, dopes. We’re four-handed.

I suck out with QJ against BB’s JJ. Sorry, dude. I can’t not shove that from the SB. It’s not my fault the board has to come KTT9x. Later, my AQ holds up against the retarded big stack’s A5s and all of a sudden I’m a real player again. Chip leader plays a big pot against the second stack and gets crippled. His AQ holds up against my KJs. Rigged. One orbit later, he busts. With the last chop-with-me objector gone and me sitting on a big stack, I insta-chip-chop. Suckers. Chip chops are so rigged in favor of the bigger stacks. I tip the excess and cash out $5k. It comes in a brick with a band that says $5000 on it. Awww… My first brick.

We go out for Brazilian barbecue. I am determined to spend all the cash money on my person except for the brick. The food kicks ass. I argue with the head server about how paying $35 a bottle of wine that sells for $8 in the Berkeley Safeway is totally rigged, but the pitcher of rotgut sangria is $30, so might as well splurge. I have a brick, after all. The food is super-good. The three of us finish most of a cow and at least half a pig. I leave my pansy-ass busted live non-brick bankroll for payment. To top off the night, we go back to Kiel’s place for Mario-Kart and general discussion about my contemporary awesomeness.

I a veritable orgasm of poor planning, Dom is having a Super Bowl party Sunday and I'm at the airport with 5k in cash. I still can't complain too much.