Regina report -- Day 1
Bored at home? Bored at work? Here ya go... day one of my recent poker trip to Regina. I probably won't get around to writing much more this evening. If you read the whole thing, I hope you enjoy it!
DAY 1
My flight from Pearson was slightly delayed, which put my arrival time in Regina at around 11:30 or so. That day’s tournament (LHE) was starting at noon, but I wasn’t overly concerned as Dave had paid my entry that morning, guaranteeing me my seat. At the airport in Regina, I recognized a couple of poker players who were on the flight with me. I decided to offer them the ‘luggage carousel prop bet’, made famous by Dave Scharf and Ralph Mair in Vegas.Â
For those who aren’t familiar with this bet, basically, you bet on whose luggage will come out first. Dave and Ralph have taken this to the next level, though, by making it more spectator-friendly. How? By betting $1000 on it. Loudly. What the folks watching don’t know, however, is that they give each other the money back as soon as they get into the limo. In the Regina airport, though, I really wanted to bet on something this stupid. I approached the first guy and offered to wager $100 on the luggage carousel with him. He declined. I asked his friend if he was interested. Again, no deal. I said: “How ‘bout $20, then?â€. Nope.Â
Bob later pointed out something to me that I thought was interesting: maybe the guys were worried that I had an inside line on the luggage carousel dude in Regina. Like, maybe they thought they were being set up. Maybe I just show up in airports around the world—Regina being high on my list—and wait until the luggage carousel dude gets off work. I approach him in the parking lot, explain my scheme, and we work the crowd the next day, or even for two or three days if the action is really good.
I checked into the Delta, an elevator door opened, and there was Dave with my tournament entry card. I hadn’t missed a thing. I turned a corner on the walk over to the casino, and there was Bob. These guys were appearing magically, it seemed, which I viewed as a good sign, because who couldn’t use a little pre-tournament magic.
I was seated to the immediate right of a gentleman named Buddy Ashmore, who has had a lot of success in the Canadian tournament scene. He was a very nice guy, as was JR, the guy on my immediate right. Unfortunately, despite the good times, nothing really went right for me in this one. I guess LHE isn’t my game. I don’t really remember many of the hands, except, of course, the last one, which has sentimental value. But I’ll get to it in a second. First, I should talk about my action in these tournaments. In every one I played, I traded 10% with Dave and 5% with Bob. That’s about as much of my action as I like to trade, but in this particular tournament, me and Buddy were in the same predicament: really shortstacked, and facing some pretty hefty blinds. We decided to trade 5% with each other, both of us fully expecting to be out of the tournament within minutes of making that agreement.Â
I was out of the tournament within minutes of making that agreement. Buddy, however, made it down to approx. 40 players remaining, so he actually gave me some hope for a while. Alas, it was not to be, for either of us.  Â
I busted out with… wait for it… pocket deuces. Yes, they got cracked. Again. The circumstances surrounding the hand were interesting, though. It was the first hand after the dinner break, playing, IIRC, the 600/1200 level, with 300/600 blinds. I had around 2000, but I had the button which bought me a little bit of time. Of course, I decided to ignore this luxury, mostly because the player in the big blind wasn’t anywhere to be seen, and it was folded around to me.
Thinking I only had the small blind to contend with, and because I was holding the mighty mighty deuces (a long-term love/hate relationship in the making with this hand, I can feel it) I raised. The small blind thought for a bit, and while he was thinking, the big blind ran to his seat and picked up his cards. Well, shit. If we were in Vegas, that hand would have been ruled dead. At the WSOP if you’re not in your seat the moment the first card of a hand is dealt, you don’t get to play. This is—reasonably, I think—not the case in Regina.
The small blind folded, and the big blind called. The flop came J33, he checked, I bet, he check-raised me all-in, and said: “You’re going to hate meâ€. I called, and he showed me pocket jacks. IGHN, and to make matters worse, that put me on the hook for breakfast the next morning. Bob busted out a minute later, and Dave busted out a minute after that. I put my name on a 20/40 kill game list, and the three of us went for drinks at the bar. Incidentally, all of the cash games in Regina this year were kill games, which I loved. If you don’t know what a ‘kill game’ is, you’re from Ontario. Kill games are pretty much standard out West. The basic premise of this rule is that if a player wins two pots in a row the kill is ‘on’, and the next hand is played at double the stakes. And, the player who won two in a row has to post twice the normal big blind at the start of the hand. So, every now and again I found myself playing 40/80, or in the case of the 30/60 game, it was 60/120.Â
There are other ways to play kill pot games, but that’s how they do it in Regina. I was called for the 20/40, and left Dave and Bob at the bar. They told me they were going to “have one more and go to bedâ€. I have since learned that “have one more and go to bed†actually means “go out and get absolutely hammered beyond belief and have a great time and not tell Devin or invite him or anythingâ€. Live and learn. I’m not bitter. Anyways, that was the last I saw of them that night. I met a LOT of really cool people in the cash games, though, so screw those guys anyways. Who needs them. I’m not bitter.
I won some money at poker, then I won some money at blackjack. I don’t play blackjack, but the circumstances were unusual. I thought the 20/40 I was in was going to break, so I put my name on the list for the main game, picked up my chips, and had to kill time while I was waiting. Hmmm. Chips in pocket, four beers in system, in a casino, with no poker available and nobody to (sniff) hang out with. So, I won a bit at blackjack, and then I lost a bit at blackjack, and then I won a bit more at poker, and then I went to bed at a reasonable hour. I wanted to be fresh for the train wreck that was the NLHE tournament the following day.
DAY 1
My flight from Pearson was slightly delayed, which put my arrival time in Regina at around 11:30 or so. That day’s tournament (LHE) was starting at noon, but I wasn’t overly concerned as Dave had paid my entry that morning, guaranteeing me my seat. At the airport in Regina, I recognized a couple of poker players who were on the flight with me. I decided to offer them the ‘luggage carousel prop bet’, made famous by Dave Scharf and Ralph Mair in Vegas.Â
For those who aren’t familiar with this bet, basically, you bet on whose luggage will come out first. Dave and Ralph have taken this to the next level, though, by making it more spectator-friendly. How? By betting $1000 on it. Loudly. What the folks watching don’t know, however, is that they give each other the money back as soon as they get into the limo. In the Regina airport, though, I really wanted to bet on something this stupid. I approached the first guy and offered to wager $100 on the luggage carousel with him. He declined. I asked his friend if he was interested. Again, no deal. I said: “How ‘bout $20, then?â€. Nope.Â
Bob later pointed out something to me that I thought was interesting: maybe the guys were worried that I had an inside line on the luggage carousel dude in Regina. Like, maybe they thought they were being set up. Maybe I just show up in airports around the world—Regina being high on my list—and wait until the luggage carousel dude gets off work. I approach him in the parking lot, explain my scheme, and we work the crowd the next day, or even for two or three days if the action is really good.
I checked into the Delta, an elevator door opened, and there was Dave with my tournament entry card. I hadn’t missed a thing. I turned a corner on the walk over to the casino, and there was Bob. These guys were appearing magically, it seemed, which I viewed as a good sign, because who couldn’t use a little pre-tournament magic.
I was seated to the immediate right of a gentleman named Buddy Ashmore, who has had a lot of success in the Canadian tournament scene. He was a very nice guy, as was JR, the guy on my immediate right. Unfortunately, despite the good times, nothing really went right for me in this one. I guess LHE isn’t my game. I don’t really remember many of the hands, except, of course, the last one, which has sentimental value. But I’ll get to it in a second. First, I should talk about my action in these tournaments. In every one I played, I traded 10% with Dave and 5% with Bob. That’s about as much of my action as I like to trade, but in this particular tournament, me and Buddy were in the same predicament: really shortstacked, and facing some pretty hefty blinds. We decided to trade 5% with each other, both of us fully expecting to be out of the tournament within minutes of making that agreement.Â
I was out of the tournament within minutes of making that agreement. Buddy, however, made it down to approx. 40 players remaining, so he actually gave me some hope for a while. Alas, it was not to be, for either of us.  Â
I busted out with… wait for it… pocket deuces. Yes, they got cracked. Again. The circumstances surrounding the hand were interesting, though. It was the first hand after the dinner break, playing, IIRC, the 600/1200 level, with 300/600 blinds. I had around 2000, but I had the button which bought me a little bit of time. Of course, I decided to ignore this luxury, mostly because the player in the big blind wasn’t anywhere to be seen, and it was folded around to me.
Thinking I only had the small blind to contend with, and because I was holding the mighty mighty deuces (a long-term love/hate relationship in the making with this hand, I can feel it) I raised. The small blind thought for a bit, and while he was thinking, the big blind ran to his seat and picked up his cards. Well, shit. If we were in Vegas, that hand would have been ruled dead. At the WSOP if you’re not in your seat the moment the first card of a hand is dealt, you don’t get to play. This is—reasonably, I think—not the case in Regina.
The small blind folded, and the big blind called. The flop came J33, he checked, I bet, he check-raised me all-in, and said: “You’re going to hate meâ€. I called, and he showed me pocket jacks. IGHN, and to make matters worse, that put me on the hook for breakfast the next morning. Bob busted out a minute later, and Dave busted out a minute after that. I put my name on a 20/40 kill game list, and the three of us went for drinks at the bar. Incidentally, all of the cash games in Regina this year were kill games, which I loved. If you don’t know what a ‘kill game’ is, you’re from Ontario. Kill games are pretty much standard out West. The basic premise of this rule is that if a player wins two pots in a row the kill is ‘on’, and the next hand is played at double the stakes. And, the player who won two in a row has to post twice the normal big blind at the start of the hand. So, every now and again I found myself playing 40/80, or in the case of the 30/60 game, it was 60/120.Â
There are other ways to play kill pot games, but that’s how they do it in Regina. I was called for the 20/40, and left Dave and Bob at the bar. They told me they were going to “have one more and go to bedâ€. I have since learned that “have one more and go to bed†actually means “go out and get absolutely hammered beyond belief and have a great time and not tell Devin or invite him or anythingâ€. Live and learn. I’m not bitter. Anyways, that was the last I saw of them that night. I met a LOT of really cool people in the cash games, though, so screw those guys anyways. Who needs them. I’m not bitter.
I won some money at poker, then I won some money at blackjack. I don’t play blackjack, but the circumstances were unusual. I thought the 20/40 I was in was going to break, so I put my name on the list for the main game, picked up my chips, and had to kill time while I was waiting. Hmmm. Chips in pocket, four beers in system, in a casino, with no poker available and nobody to (sniff) hang out with. So, I won a bit at blackjack, and then I lost a bit at blackjack, and then I won a bit more at poker, and then I went to bed at a reasonable hour. I wanted to be fresh for the train wreck that was the NLHE tournament the following day.
Comments
Bob and I just assumed that, similarly, you knew that “have one more and go to bed†actually means "get loaded, hand out $1000 in tips to everyone in the bar (including the lead singer in the band) and sleep past the start of the next days tournament."
No. Really. I am sorry. I thought you knew the beaver code.
WSOP final table in LHE, i guess that didn't happen. you were sitting there actually thinking you were playing stud ... would also explain the agression with ducks in the hole
LOL thanks Neil. That reminds me of something Bob said to me about pocket deuces: something like "it's a pretty good hand if you're playing in a game without a flop".