Toss's WSOP* Adventure (A Trip Report)

[toss]

The Sports bar at Imperial Palace is surprisingly large, but unsurprisingly empty. My Chinese friend needs to make a few 7-team parlays for some people back home. I decide to bet $10 on an 8-team parlay (baseball) just to one-up him, and hey, $10 to win $417 ain't bad. After what seems like an hour the cocktail waitress swings by; we all order Midori Sours. If you have a lavender scented vag, then this drink is for you. Tastes great but it has less alcohol than a cup of Scope. So the Twins are down like 11-0 (there goes my eight-team parlay) and we leave the Sports bar to find something else to burn money on.

We play craps and we run ice-cold. Friends go upstairs, but I stay downstairs to checkout the pokerroom.

The pokerroom is what I expected. Not really a room, no frills, and low limits. I buy-in for 100BBs at 200NL (yay Vegas) and scope out the competition... I'll just assume they're all donkeys for now. The session started off well enough. I make an easy lay down with top two versus an obvious turned flush, I resist the temptation to isolate the limpers with junk, and I order beer instead of hard liquor. Then I get it all in preflop with KK and lose to AA. Only $100 left in my pocket. I go the ATM and withdraw $600 (max) with a $5 and probably more fees on my bank's side. I plop down 30 twenty dollar bills on the felt and say, "It's time to play." They only let me buy-in for 100BBs. I raise 65o to $25 early position and it's 3 to the flop. J62, I have a pair. Someone donks, I push All in, he calls with TP/TK and I show. Rebuy. I raise very next hand with A2o and get like 5 callers. Flop is 246 and I lead. Some donk minraises and I call. Turn is a 2 giving me trips. I checkraise him AI and he calls with who knows what. Stack is $500. I straddle UTG, everyone folds(?!?) to the button who calls, I push AI. She angrily squeaks, "You want my $4 that bad?!" and mucks while giving me the evil eye. I shrug. I decide to slowdown and limp Q8o in late position. 6 to the flop of Q95 all spades. Checked to me, I bet pot, girl who is angry at me calls. Turn is 8 not a spade. I bet, she calls. River is 8 of spades haha. I push and she stares me down. I remain still with a silly smile on my face and long island ice tea swiveling in my right hand. She calls and confidently asks "What you got?" I turn over my full house. She is angry. Stack up to $700ish, back to even.

Now I could've quit here and rejoin my friends up in the hotel room. I could've tightened way the hell up and watch them pay me off with garbage. I could've stop ordering rubbing alcohol on the rocks and switch to something a little bit lighter. I didn't

I straddle UTG and 5 donks limp. I look at my cards to find ATo so naturally I push out a stack of red ($100) into the middle. Folded to the Button who calls... he has me covered. Oh s**t Flop is Q72r. Such a dry board right? Silly not to take stab right? I move out two stacks of red into the middle. He thinks for 2 seconds than minraises. Oh my flying f**k, what did I just f**king do, did I just f**king donk off 1.5 buyins in one hand on a pure braindead bluff? I did just bluff off $300 benjamins on the retardo bluff on the century. I hollywood for a few seconds, you know just to protect my solid tight image, and muck my hand. The girl who is angry out me smiles. Stack down to $400. I try to play tight. I do. I lose another $100 in a way I don't remember for things are blurry. Not because I'm drunk because I'm very angry at myself. A lot more angry than if I lost my cash at Blackjack or Roullete. You see, it's one thing to burn money at the pit, but it's entirely different when you're turning your bread-and-butter into cash-giveaway session. I'm supposed to make money at poker, not donk it off to donkeys. That's like going to the zoo just to have the monkeys fling poo at you. My friends swing back and I make a very smart decision and cash out. They ask how I did. I tell them that I played poorly. They understand enough not to probe further.

We seriously consider going back to the Wynn buffet for dinner, but head towards the Grand Lux instead; that place where we eat last time in my last Vegas trip report. We take the car instead of a cabbie to Luxor because thats where the Grand Lux would be right? Nope, the Grand Lux is at the Venetian. No matter, we find a cafe there anyways. I continue pickling my liver by ordering a bloodymary (I love spicy things) and a glass of sparkling champagne. I inhale both and barely touch my clam chowder. Friends order sandwiches (I swear they always order sandwiches) but lay off the booze. I try to get them to drink because it's no fun being the only one drunk; alas, I fail and no additional booze is ordered. The meal is crap compared to the Wynn Buffet (god I want to go there right now) and we leave to gambol some more. Craps with a $10 minimum? Too rich for my blood! $10 Roullete? Where the hell is the 50cent roullete I've been hearing about? (My brother now tells me it only exists downtown.) $15 Blackjack? You crazy mang? That's like 3 work hours a hand for my non-balla friends. Instead of gambling we aimlessly head back towards the Imperial Palace.

My friends are tired. I'm tired. But I have a job to do. Chase losses at poker room downstairs haha.

Next Part: The critical session. Will Toss make back his money?



The answer is HELL F**KING NO! Stay tuned!

[Arbitrage]

your friends suck

[CrazyLond]

Damn dude you sound like me when I went to Vegas last March. I'm pretty sure I must be the alltime biggest loser playing pai gow at hooters. Thank god I'm on the wagon now.

[ThaHero]

How could you go to Vegas with a bunch of nits? They coulda stayed home if they weren't gonna drink and gambooool it up!

[BrunoThePug]

Classic Toss Material

[bdroptjj]

The other Asian of our quartet has a purple face; the dark-blue strobe light plus his bright red face was the reason.



Being asian myself, and also suffering from 'purple face syndrome', I find this absolutely fkn hilarious. Excellent report...

[toss]

After blowing off some steam with my friends, I head back to the poker room while my friends sleep (it's 4 in the morning afterall). I had only one thing on my mind and that was to play the best poker I possibly could. There would be no tilting. I would have no drinks. I would take in every detail no matter how small or seemingly useless. I was going to play my hardest. I even had my Barry Greenstein LOL DONKAMENTS shirt on. I find a seat at the very same table and start my observations. I figured out who was playing too loose, who was playing too tight, who was overagressive. I also looked for physical tells. Why are those old man's eyes blinking independently? Is tall guy in seat 2 really sleeping in between hands or is it an act? Is that fat guy scratching is crotch for everyone to see? I suck in an enormous amount of information and utilize in the best way I can. I pick up KK and trap the guy who's been playing for 17 hours now (or so the guy sitting next to me says). I pick up small pots despite the table's predilection for not folding. I send out reverse tells as best as I can. Before I know it, my stack is at a healthy $500; however, the table is now shorthanded and the rake remains at $5 a hand. The two tables that a running combine to form one and we're full again. I redouble my info gathering on the new players. The nerdy looking guy is playing real tight. Slick hair is an aggro donk. The old tourist with a Hawaiian shirt is calling huge bets with weakass hands; he'll be my primary target.

I've been playing pretty tight preflop and aggressive postflop for about an hour now. My stack is hoevering around $500. I raise KK in middle position I get several callers including the old tourist. Flop is T62r. I bet pot, shortstack calls all in, old tourist calls as well. Turn is a 3. I valuebet 3/4 pot and old tourist calls. River is a 4 making a onecard straight possible. Old tourist checks so I doubt he has the straight. I make thin and small valuebet of $75. Old tourist gets an aggressive look on his face and checkraises to $175. He's been calling with a lot of junk. I'm certain he backed into runner runner straight and I confidently fold. He flips over JJ. My heart sinks into my stomach. I forget to breathe. The best way I can describe how I felt at that moment is by making a comparison. Imagine you accidentally set your lottery ticket on fire. My mind tries to process what just happen here. Did I just get out-f**kin-played to the max by a f**king fish in a Hawaiian shirt? Did he out play me? Him?!?! My stack is barely over $200 now, that's what I bought in for. Then it gets worse. Old tourist says, "Well I thought had the Ten and JJ beats that so..." I don't hear anything else after that. I only hear a dull ring as I struggle to recollect myself. What do I do? I sure as hell can't go to sleep now. Should I stab him in the parking lot? What the hell am I thinking?!? Go play blackjack and ask for blackchips only? That's suicide. I somehow manage to pull myself together and keep my tilt under control; however, I end up playing very tight and unimaginative. It's all I can do for now.

It's 7'oclock in the morning. My stack is now at $350 thanks to the horrible play. I'm very tired, but my edge was very great so I played. I raise to $18 (9x the BB) with AQs in middle position and get called by several players including the old tourist. Flop is Q[img]/images/graemlins/spade.gif[/img]T[img]/images/graemlins/heart.gif[/img]5[img]/images/graemlins/spade.gif[/img] and I fire out pot. Two callers including the old tourist. Guy before me goes all-in. I push all-in. Old tourist calls. He has J[img]/images/graemlins/spade.gif[/img]T[img]/images/graemlins/spade.gif[/img]. River is not a spade. It's a Ten. He made trips. I lost my stack. Misery. I can't quit because I still have money in my pocket. Someone says something about a bad beat. I shrug my shoulders and say "It happens", I don't know how I did it, it's like I've practiced everyday saying, "It happens", and I did it by autopilot. Misery. Old tourist has well over $2000 in chips now. He orders a Newcastle. I can't hate him if he like Newcastle. He was very nice at the table too. He tried to give me my chips back. I want to f**king kill him I bite down my lips because I'm surprised at myself. Maybe not. All I know is that sometimes I get an intense murderous rage and it often surfaces out of nowhere. It can be over small stupid things. It can be over racism or bad treatment. It can happen when I'm 8-tabling at Full Tilt. Then I say "Hey, lets flip for stacks." The chiprunner had brought my 40 red chips. I guess I was on auto-rebuy. "Hey, give me a chance to make my money back, lets flip." Old tourist doesn't hear me. He was talking to someone else. The guy next to me looks at me with a worried face. My play gets sloppy.

3 new face have shown up, they're all buddies from Ireland and man can they drink. They all have shaved heads and sport muscular builds. They find interesting and creative ways to incorporate F-bombs into every sentence; the dealer reprimands them although he's clearly enjoying their table antics. They tip from each other stacks and don't waste an opportunity to the other's testicular fortitude. And boy do they use a lot of jargon that I don't understand. No way I can hope to replicate that through these typed words. I would be enjoying it a lot more if I wasn't dead tired. I'm only here because the old tourist is still here. I don't care that he's sobered up. I don't care that he's playing tight now. I only have one goal. My stack is only $130 from unsuccessful C-bets on the flop. I raise to $20 with TT versus and a few limpers, only one of them calls. I push a K65 flop because villain calls with any piece. He has two pieces of this flop (65 for two pair). I reach into my pocket, but there isn't anymore $100 bills. I go to the ATM, I go buy more chips, and I sit back down.

It's nine in the morning now. I can't see it, but the sun is up and heating the hell out of the strip. I've been folding junk and not playing. The Irish guys are still drinking and still talking with their rapid-fire jargon. One of their friends almost gets into a fight outside the pokerroom. I fold junk some more. My glass frames are digging painfully into the top of my ear and the bridge of my nose. I see nine nine in the big blind. I raise it big and one guy calls. Flop is 876 and villain donks into me. I don't even know how much he bets and make an I-don't-care-anymore push. He has 85 and my hand holds up. Stack is at $350ish now. If I double-up twice I'll only be down a couple hundred. Everything suddenly hurts a lot more. I squeeze out a few more hands of play before I wave the white flag. The old tourist takes this round. Keep the money. I don't need it anyway. I cashout and head upstairs.

One hour of tortured sleep. I kept on jerking up in my bed at the slightest noise. My friend's snore. The air conditioner starting up again. The alarm clock. I wake up for good even though I might've not slept at all. I still feel sick inside, but I know well-enough that it'll go away. Time is all I need.

It's time to go home. My bags are heavy, that's the last time I bring my Dell 9300. I close my eyes in the car, but sleep doesn't come. Instead I blankly stare out into the hot dry desert. Buffalo Bills will be are last stop in Nevada. We end up carousing the mall and my friend finds some good deals on some polos. We build an appetite shopping so make a stop at the food court. I order a very solid stir-fry chicken with Louisiana-based bbq sauce. Plus a three item dish only cost $5.25 after tax. It was delicious. I also order a cherry lemonade from that Hot-Dog on a Stick place. Large of course. Delicious. One of my friends order from the same place as me. He goes back from another plate. The other two order from Vegas Burger. Bad beat. Looks like the kind of burger I would throw together at home. We chill for a few moments before heading into the 140 degrees parking lot. The car seats (leather) are hot enough to take your skin off. As we drove back home, I thought back to our ride here under the dark desert sky heavy with stars. I peered at the rest of the stars of our Milky Way Galaxy. Only in the desert or high in the mountains can you see the stars like this. Then I realized that it didn't matter that Vegas was our destination. The destination didn't matter. What mattered was that I was going on a trip and that I was going to have a blast with some close friends.

Thanks for reading. Hopefully I didn't get too long-winded in this report. I had to exert myself for this report unlike the others in which the story simply flowed out. Now for some Fun Facts.

Fun Facts:

Money lost: <font color="red">$1200</font>
Buy-ins down at Vegas 200NL: 12 or 13ish
Hours slept: 7~8 over 3 days.
Favorite drink: Ice cold Newcastle.
Favorite meal: Wynn Buffet!!!
Next Vegas Trip: August... Oh s**t I only have a month to grind up a live bankroll.

[SpleenLSD]

Toss, baby, I love the trip reports but your drink choices are downright embarrassing. Midori Sours? Adios? Goldschlager? Please, when you have the inclination to write "Malibu Bay Breeze with Vodka" just spell it "bourbon" or "beer". Otherwise I need your home address to send you a box of tiny paper umbrellas.

Rock steady,

Spleener

[pfapfap]

Don't be an umbrella-hater. If a drink has little pieces of fruit with it, order it up!

Toss, great report, appreciate the effort.

[steamboatin]

wouldn't it be funny if the Tourist in the Hawaian shirtwas a lurker and wrote a trip report about a young drunk playing NL?

I would submit for your consideration, those free drinks are really quite expensive.