Wynn Classic trip report day 2
Day Two
1K NLHE event at the Wynn. 240 starters, paid 27. I finished at around 60th. My notes tell me that I played well. Apparently not well enough.
One bizarre hand: I raised preflop with JJ and got one caller. The flop came 78T with two hearts. I bet and was called. The turn came the Jh, giving me a set but putting an easy straight and a possible flush out there. I checked, and my opponent checked behind. The river was an offsuit nine, putting a straight on the board. I checked, my opponent bet a fairly large amount, and I called, hoping that we were both playing the board. He announced straight, and I said “me too” flipping over my jacks. The dealer looked at my cards and said: “That’s not a straight”. I said that of course it’s a straight, there’s a straight on the board! Then I looked at the board, and saw that the flop was 88T, not 78T. I made the nut full house on the turn.
While it is obvious that I could have gotten more out of this hand if I had read the board correctly (my opponent did in fact make a straight on the river… he was holding QT…) I was glad that I misread the board in such a way as to make myself believe that it made a straight, allowing for us to possibly chop the pot, which made me call on the river. If I had misread the board in another way, I might have laid my “set” down. OOOOOOOOOOOPS!!!!!!!
Also fairly early in the tournament, I raised with 44 after it was folded to me on the button. Both blinds called. The flop came 224. Checked around. The turn was a ten. SB bet, BB folded, I raised, SB called. River seven or something, SB checked, I bet, SB thought and thought and said “do you have ace ten?” Finally he called, I showed my hand, and he mucked JJ face-up. He then lectured me for a while about how I could have taken his entire stack on that hand. I told him that yes, if I’d known he was that strong in the hand, I could have taken his entire stack, but I had no way of knowing that he was holding JJ.
Todd Witteles (DanDruff) was moved to my table. We were at a final table together in 2005… WSOP event #4. I asked him if he recognized me and he said that he did, and named the tournament. I played two significant pots with him, and bluffed—or at least thought I was bluffing—in both of them. In one, I had QJ and pretended that it was QT instead because QT would have combined with the board in a much nicer way, and got him to lay his hand down. In the other, I raised preflop with A5 in MP and he called in the BB. Flop came 567, check check. Turn was a jack, he bet, I moved all-in, and he finally laid down whatever it was that he had. I may have had the best hand here, but I wasn’t looking for a call.
In both cases, he made a big show out of laying down his hand… a bit of a drama queen, that Todd W., but if you saw him at that WSOP final table, you already knew that.
My bust-out hand: Folded to me on the button, I find K9s and raise. The tight player in the BB calls (BIG stack). Flop A9x, he bets out, I move in, and he calls with A9. IGHN. My thinking in this hand (if you could call it that): “he couldn’t possibly have an ace… an ace would checkraise here given our stack sizes, not bet out. My hand is good.” I guess that’s what he thought I would think, and I guess I got spanked! Good for him.
Random celebrity sightings: Freddy Deeb at the Wynn, Antonio Esfandiari at the Bellagio.
I played the second chance tournament at the Wynn, and busted in the first level with QQ vs. AA after seeing a 7 high flop. The stacks aren’t deep enough in the 2nd chance tourneys to be able to get away from this hand IMUO. (In my unbiased opinion.)
Off I went to the Bellagio to play 30/60 LHE. Where is my brother in all of this? I have no idea. I’m working from random notes scrawled on napkins here, and my brother is nowhere to be found today. I think he was playing the daily tournament at the Orleans… anyway, the 30/60 LHE game at the Bellagio was filled with LOCALS. They are all professionals, and they play against each other, and pass the money around. Which begs the question: how do any of them actually make a living? Well, every once in a while (but not as often as you might think, or as they might hope….) a tourist sits in the game. On this night, that tourist was me, but unfortunately, I took $1200 out of their game. Oops.
The young guy next to me was nice… probably the best LHE player I’ve played with. I’m not basing that on this single session… I played against him quite a bit over the course of the week, and his reputation was pretty solid. He was an online pro for a while, and then the new legislation in the US arrived, so he moved to Vegas.
Random overheard quote of the day (from another table): “You’ve been playing with me all day, you know damn well I’m not good enough to fold this hand!”.
By the time I left the Bellagio, I was quite drunk. I thought I was going to go back to the Orleans, but I decided to have the cab driver take me to the Palms instead so I could check out the action. The action sucked. Poker is dying a slow and painful death at the Palms, and it ain’t pretty.
So, back to the Orleans for real this time. I thought I was going to go to bed, but… they… have… blackjack…
Most of the tables at the Orleans are that crazy single-deck, shitty rules, but-we-expect-you-to-be-counting-cards type of blackjack that I’d already banned myself from. The ubiquitousness (that’s right, I said it) of these games leads me to believe that Las Vegas assumes the common man’s ability to count cards in a single deck of blackjack is dogshit. I would tend to agree with this assumption, especially as it pertains to me, and especially on that particular night. I managed to find a seat open at a regular multi-deck table, and bought in for $400.
There was an Asian guy at the table who spoke no English whatsoever, and who had absolutely no idea how to play blackjack. I mean, he would hit on 17. But nobody could explain the rules to him, and he wasn’t going anywhere, so that was the situation. He was playing a single spot at $5/hand, and I was playing 2 spots to his immediate left at $50 a pop, but this guy’s crazy decisions were actually making me a lot of money… plus, the dealer said that she put me on being 24, which is great when you’re 32, so I was having a good time.
I had to leave though, because I heard the sound of live music coming from somewhere on the casino floor, and I’m a sucker for live music, especially when it exists in an environment like the Orleans at 2:00 on a weeknight. What I found was even better than I could ever have expected: a dynamic, young, giving-it-their-all cover band playing a rockin’ version of Robert Palmer’s “Addicted to Love” to an audience of eight comatose geriatric people sitting sparse and stone still in the darkness. I laughed until tears were running down my cheeks and made a beeline for my room before my hysterics attracted any unwanted attention. Just another normal night at the Orleans I guess, but to me, well, it felt like I was in another era, on another planet.
Sidenote: the consensus among the local pros is that the Bellagio is the nuts as far as Vegas poker rooms go. Best dealers, best floor staff, best everything… I did however mention that the waitresses at the Wynn had a significant overall edge, and nobody could dispute it. In a word: distracting.
1K NLHE event at the Wynn. 240 starters, paid 27. I finished at around 60th. My notes tell me that I played well. Apparently not well enough.
One bizarre hand: I raised preflop with JJ and got one caller. The flop came 78T with two hearts. I bet and was called. The turn came the Jh, giving me a set but putting an easy straight and a possible flush out there. I checked, and my opponent checked behind. The river was an offsuit nine, putting a straight on the board. I checked, my opponent bet a fairly large amount, and I called, hoping that we were both playing the board. He announced straight, and I said “me too” flipping over my jacks. The dealer looked at my cards and said: “That’s not a straight”. I said that of course it’s a straight, there’s a straight on the board! Then I looked at the board, and saw that the flop was 88T, not 78T. I made the nut full house on the turn.
While it is obvious that I could have gotten more out of this hand if I had read the board correctly (my opponent did in fact make a straight on the river… he was holding QT…) I was glad that I misread the board in such a way as to make myself believe that it made a straight, allowing for us to possibly chop the pot, which made me call on the river. If I had misread the board in another way, I might have laid my “set” down. OOOOOOOOOOOPS!!!!!!!
Also fairly early in the tournament, I raised with 44 after it was folded to me on the button. Both blinds called. The flop came 224. Checked around. The turn was a ten. SB bet, BB folded, I raised, SB called. River seven or something, SB checked, I bet, SB thought and thought and said “do you have ace ten?” Finally he called, I showed my hand, and he mucked JJ face-up. He then lectured me for a while about how I could have taken his entire stack on that hand. I told him that yes, if I’d known he was that strong in the hand, I could have taken his entire stack, but I had no way of knowing that he was holding JJ.
Todd Witteles (DanDruff) was moved to my table. We were at a final table together in 2005… WSOP event #4. I asked him if he recognized me and he said that he did, and named the tournament. I played two significant pots with him, and bluffed—or at least thought I was bluffing—in both of them. In one, I had QJ and pretended that it was QT instead because QT would have combined with the board in a much nicer way, and got him to lay his hand down. In the other, I raised preflop with A5 in MP and he called in the BB. Flop came 567, check check. Turn was a jack, he bet, I moved all-in, and he finally laid down whatever it was that he had. I may have had the best hand here, but I wasn’t looking for a call.
In both cases, he made a big show out of laying down his hand… a bit of a drama queen, that Todd W., but if you saw him at that WSOP final table, you already knew that.
My bust-out hand: Folded to me on the button, I find K9s and raise. The tight player in the BB calls (BIG stack). Flop A9x, he bets out, I move in, and he calls with A9. IGHN. My thinking in this hand (if you could call it that): “he couldn’t possibly have an ace… an ace would checkraise here given our stack sizes, not bet out. My hand is good.” I guess that’s what he thought I would think, and I guess I got spanked! Good for him.
Random celebrity sightings: Freddy Deeb at the Wynn, Antonio Esfandiari at the Bellagio.
I played the second chance tournament at the Wynn, and busted in the first level with QQ vs. AA after seeing a 7 high flop. The stacks aren’t deep enough in the 2nd chance tourneys to be able to get away from this hand IMUO. (In my unbiased opinion.)
Off I went to the Bellagio to play 30/60 LHE. Where is my brother in all of this? I have no idea. I’m working from random notes scrawled on napkins here, and my brother is nowhere to be found today. I think he was playing the daily tournament at the Orleans… anyway, the 30/60 LHE game at the Bellagio was filled with LOCALS. They are all professionals, and they play against each other, and pass the money around. Which begs the question: how do any of them actually make a living? Well, every once in a while (but not as often as you might think, or as they might hope….) a tourist sits in the game. On this night, that tourist was me, but unfortunately, I took $1200 out of their game. Oops.
The young guy next to me was nice… probably the best LHE player I’ve played with. I’m not basing that on this single session… I played against him quite a bit over the course of the week, and his reputation was pretty solid. He was an online pro for a while, and then the new legislation in the US arrived, so he moved to Vegas.
Random overheard quote of the day (from another table): “You’ve been playing with me all day, you know damn well I’m not good enough to fold this hand!”.
By the time I left the Bellagio, I was quite drunk. I thought I was going to go back to the Orleans, but I decided to have the cab driver take me to the Palms instead so I could check out the action. The action sucked. Poker is dying a slow and painful death at the Palms, and it ain’t pretty.
So, back to the Orleans for real this time. I thought I was going to go to bed, but… they… have… blackjack…
Most of the tables at the Orleans are that crazy single-deck, shitty rules, but-we-expect-you-to-be-counting-cards type of blackjack that I’d already banned myself from. The ubiquitousness (that’s right, I said it) of these games leads me to believe that Las Vegas assumes the common man’s ability to count cards in a single deck of blackjack is dogshit. I would tend to agree with this assumption, especially as it pertains to me, and especially on that particular night. I managed to find a seat open at a regular multi-deck table, and bought in for $400.
There was an Asian guy at the table who spoke no English whatsoever, and who had absolutely no idea how to play blackjack. I mean, he would hit on 17. But nobody could explain the rules to him, and he wasn’t going anywhere, so that was the situation. He was playing a single spot at $5/hand, and I was playing 2 spots to his immediate left at $50 a pop, but this guy’s crazy decisions were actually making me a lot of money… plus, the dealer said that she put me on being 24, which is great when you’re 32, so I was having a good time.
I had to leave though, because I heard the sound of live music coming from somewhere on the casino floor, and I’m a sucker for live music, especially when it exists in an environment like the Orleans at 2:00 on a weeknight. What I found was even better than I could ever have expected: a dynamic, young, giving-it-their-all cover band playing a rockin’ version of Robert Palmer’s “Addicted to Love” to an audience of eight comatose geriatric people sitting sparse and stone still in the darkness. I laughed until tears were running down my cheeks and made a beeline for my room before my hysterics attracted any unwanted attention. Just another normal night at the Orleans I guess, but to me, well, it felt like I was in another era, on another planet.
Sidenote: the consensus among the local pros is that the Bellagio is the nuts as far as Vegas poker rooms go. Best dealers, best floor staff, best everything… I did however mention that the waitresses at the Wynn had a significant overall edge, and nobody could dispute it. In a word: distracting.
Comments
Interesting, since all I've ever heard about Bellagio is how their floor staff is stuck up and the room is crowded (I don't have a first-hand opinion here). Wynn was awesome from what I remember, and ya the waitresses range from 9-11/10.
As for the blackjack:
You're probably right, but I'd guess that even if you could count cards the ridiculousness of the 6:5 on BJ and the inability to double after a split, gives them such a sizable HA such that correct counting probably isn't going to swing you to +EV.
I seem to remember a bunch of tables where the dealer would hit soft 17 too which is BS.
/g2
Why was he so good? Reading everyone perfectly? What else was he doing to give you such a high opinion of his game? Entertaining read.
His attitude was also great, nice guy, no venom in him, just aggressive as hell and consistently winning. And finally, I admire the fact that he was able to realize that the US online poker legislation was adversely affecting his bottom line, and that he chose to DO something about it. (Move to Vegas and play live games instead.) Many people would just try to tough it out, not break their routine, just try to roll with it... I like the fact that he said: this sucks, I'm outta here.
Both day 1 and 2 made me laugh.
With respect to day 1, whoever asked "what kinda mileage do you get"...
someone driving an Infinity doesn't give a shit.
Why do you know what ass smells like?
Don't we?
The mileage question came from Arnoldus... she gets a little frisky sometimes, but she's OK when all is said and done.
Oh... see, I thought you were talking about the car.... My bad. But now that that's been clarified, just OK? I think I should be offended somehow...