Regina report--Day 2
DAY 2
Friday began with a Team Canuck breakfast, on me. While I was waiting outside for Dave and Bob, a guy approached me who looked like he might be homeless. I expected him to ask me for some change or a cigarette, but instead, he asked me if I knew where a person could find a beer before noon. This seems like a good time to mention that, while the tournament area at Casino Regina is beautiful, and filled with all kinds of friendly people, the downtown area that the casino and the Delta are located in is, well, a bit sketchy. A lot sketchy. Day or night, weekday or weekend, the streets are pretty much empty in the heart of downtown Regina. It is a bit unsettling, and this is coming from a guy who lives in Toronto.
The guys showed up for breakfast, and Dave was a little hungover. He had to leave to go back to his room for some more sleep, at which point Bob set the line at 1:30 for Dave’s arrival at the tournament. I took the under for twenty bucks, and was paid off when Dave showed up at around 12:35 or so. The NLHE tournament started very late that day, though, so Dave actually arrived right as the cards were put in the air. A pre-game minute of silence was observed to honour Remembrance Day, and off we went.
Nothing interesting happened in the two hours or so before the first break. Basically, I had a stack that was only slightly more than the amount I’d been able to purchase. Shortly after the break, I open-limped with 9dTd in MP at the 100/200 level. A couple of guys limped behind me and the blinds came along as well. With about 1000 in the pot, we saw a flop of Kd Jd 4d. I liked it. The blinds checked, and I made a bet of around 800 or so. Only the button called. The turn was a bricky low card like the 2s or something. I bet 2000, wanting my opponent to go away now. I’d seen him pay for draws through the nose before, and while that’s a good thing to have around in a cash game, I didn’t particularly want him to bust me out of the tournament by catching a diamond on the river.Â
He called the 2000. OK. If he was on a draw, he was paying too much for it. I had about 3000 left, and fired it into the pot when the river bricked off as well. He called, and showed me Qd7d for a higher flopped flush. That left me with around 425—just over twice the big blind—and the blinds were coming up fast. The next hand, I picked up Kc7c and moved all in. Four players called, so if I hit a hand I’d be back up to over 2000.
The flop missed me completely: it was the Qd 9h 2s. Not even a backdoor club draw. There was a bet and a call. The turn was the Tc, giving me a tiny little bit of hope. There was a bet and a call. The river was the miracle jack, giving me my straight to the king. The first player bet, and the second player (the guy who just took most of my stack with the flush) made a BIG raise. And then, he flipped over his cards, which happened to be AK for a higher gutshot straight on the river than mine. I knew I was done, but I wanted to stick around to watch the rest of the hand, because something interesting had happened here. The guy had flipped over his AK—for whatever reason—while the other guy was still contemplating whether or not to call. Then he flipped his AK back over, and his opponent never saw it happen. Everybody else at the table saw it happen though. So, everyone at the table saw the AK except for the guy who needed to see it, who was deciding whether or not to call a 4500 raise.
The floor was called, and it was decided that the hand could continue on as if nothing had happened, because the action hadn’t been affected. I started moving my eyeballs left and right, trying to signal ‘no’ to the guy who was contemplating the call. He didn’t see me. Unethical? Maybe, but I was still stinging from the fact that this player with AK had taken me out of the tournament in the space of just two short hands. Another player at the table was saying things like: “So if he wants to FOLD he can still FOLD his hand, right?â€. The guy didn’t get it… eventually, he called and lost.
I wandered out of tournament room, resigned to my new internship as “Team Canuck Poker’s Buyer of Breakfastâ€. I was considering changing my nickname from “Devin ‘all_aces’ Armstrong†to “Devin ‘what’s_an_ante’ Armstrongâ€, because I wasn’t making it deep enough into these tournaments to find out. In the lobby, I ran into Kevin, who is ‘boxcard’ on this forum, and the chair of the Canadian Poker Hall of Fame. We introduced ourselves, and Kevin showed me a couple of passes he’d received to some sort of a beer expo at the Delta. Beer? Expo? OK, sign me up, and off we went. Unfortunately, the beer expo wasn’t opening for another few hours, so we decided to have some drinks in the casino bar instead, where we were promptly joined by Bob, who had also just busted out, but not before me. He told me that he likes to wait until I bust out, and then—with the stress of having to possibly buy breakfast lifted—he opens his game right up and busts himself.
The three of us had some good conversation about the state of the typical mid-limit poker pro and nickel-plated handguns, among other things. Kevin took off to play in a couple of satellites for the following day’s event (one of which he managed to win), and Bob and I played a bit of 20/40. We arrived in the game a little drunk, much to the displeasure of the rock garden that didn’t like the unexpected. Bob and I essentially announced that we were all KINDS of unexpected with our lighthearted banter and with Bob’s runner runner nut flush on the river. I think some of the players hated us. One of them said that he needed earplugs. This is the first time—and probably the last—that someone will imply that I talk too much at the poker table, or at any table for that matter. I know I tend to go on and on when I write, but sit me down at a poker table and maybe you’ll hear the occasional ‘check’ or ‘raise’, but that’s about it.
We got out of that game, and wandered around thinking about where to go for dinner. We wanted to go to The Keg, but it was far away and neither of us were in any shape to drive Dave’s SUV anywhere, despite his offer from his tournament table.Â
Fortunately we ran into a guy that Bob knows in front of the Delta, and he and his friends were about to hop in a car and drive somewhere for dinner. One of his friends, incidentally, was JP from the LHE tournament the day before. They invited us along, and we suggested The Keg. Off we went to The Keg, where we were soon joined by Dave who had just busted out, as well. It was actually a pretty risky move on Dave’s part to assume that Bob and I would have made our way there, because really, we could have been anywhere.
The six of us had a great meal, our busted-out spirits lifted by the good food and drink. When it came time to pay the bill, I knew that we had a bit of a situation on our hands. I owed the Team Canuck Party Fund between $400 and $500, from my score in Vegas. So, I knew I was buying dinner for Dave and Bob. That would leave a couple of hundred still in the fund, though, and Dave and Bob REALLY wanted to make sure the whole fund was gone, so they could laugh in Ralph’s face about it, essentially. Ralph had a wedding anniversary that weekend and was unable to make it to Regina, and as punishment, Dave was hell-bent on spending Ralph’s part of the fund. So I ended up paying for all six of us. And since that didn’t quite empty out the fund, Dave suggested I tip the waitress $100. I did, and that was that for the fund. Mission accomplished. I was thinking: “I bet these three guys are glad they ran into me and Bobâ€. Their score of a free meal turned out not to be such a big deal, though, as I saw them playing blackjack a little later in the weekend, betting pink chips on what colour the dealer’s cards were going to be.
We returned to the hotel, and Bob and Dave went to sleep. I hooked up with Kevin, who was in an understandably great mood after winning his way into the 1K event for the following day. We tried the beer expo again, but we got there too late. It was 10:45, and the beer expo was closed. So it wasn’t really so much of a beer “expo†as it was a beer “villa†or something. I don’t know, but “expo†sounds dynamic, and dynamic things should last longer than 3 hours and 45 minutes in a convention hall in a hotel. Kevin and myself had a few drinks in the casino bar, and called it a night.
Friday began with a Team Canuck breakfast, on me. While I was waiting outside for Dave and Bob, a guy approached me who looked like he might be homeless. I expected him to ask me for some change or a cigarette, but instead, he asked me if I knew where a person could find a beer before noon. This seems like a good time to mention that, while the tournament area at Casino Regina is beautiful, and filled with all kinds of friendly people, the downtown area that the casino and the Delta are located in is, well, a bit sketchy. A lot sketchy. Day or night, weekday or weekend, the streets are pretty much empty in the heart of downtown Regina. It is a bit unsettling, and this is coming from a guy who lives in Toronto.
The guys showed up for breakfast, and Dave was a little hungover. He had to leave to go back to his room for some more sleep, at which point Bob set the line at 1:30 for Dave’s arrival at the tournament. I took the under for twenty bucks, and was paid off when Dave showed up at around 12:35 or so. The NLHE tournament started very late that day, though, so Dave actually arrived right as the cards were put in the air. A pre-game minute of silence was observed to honour Remembrance Day, and off we went.
Nothing interesting happened in the two hours or so before the first break. Basically, I had a stack that was only slightly more than the amount I’d been able to purchase. Shortly after the break, I open-limped with 9dTd in MP at the 100/200 level. A couple of guys limped behind me and the blinds came along as well. With about 1000 in the pot, we saw a flop of Kd Jd 4d. I liked it. The blinds checked, and I made a bet of around 800 or so. Only the button called. The turn was a bricky low card like the 2s or something. I bet 2000, wanting my opponent to go away now. I’d seen him pay for draws through the nose before, and while that’s a good thing to have around in a cash game, I didn’t particularly want him to bust me out of the tournament by catching a diamond on the river.Â
He called the 2000. OK. If he was on a draw, he was paying too much for it. I had about 3000 left, and fired it into the pot when the river bricked off as well. He called, and showed me Qd7d for a higher flopped flush. That left me with around 425—just over twice the big blind—and the blinds were coming up fast. The next hand, I picked up Kc7c and moved all in. Four players called, so if I hit a hand I’d be back up to over 2000.
The flop missed me completely: it was the Qd 9h 2s. Not even a backdoor club draw. There was a bet and a call. The turn was the Tc, giving me a tiny little bit of hope. There was a bet and a call. The river was the miracle jack, giving me my straight to the king. The first player bet, and the second player (the guy who just took most of my stack with the flush) made a BIG raise. And then, he flipped over his cards, which happened to be AK for a higher gutshot straight on the river than mine. I knew I was done, but I wanted to stick around to watch the rest of the hand, because something interesting had happened here. The guy had flipped over his AK—for whatever reason—while the other guy was still contemplating whether or not to call. Then he flipped his AK back over, and his opponent never saw it happen. Everybody else at the table saw it happen though. So, everyone at the table saw the AK except for the guy who needed to see it, who was deciding whether or not to call a 4500 raise.
The floor was called, and it was decided that the hand could continue on as if nothing had happened, because the action hadn’t been affected. I started moving my eyeballs left and right, trying to signal ‘no’ to the guy who was contemplating the call. He didn’t see me. Unethical? Maybe, but I was still stinging from the fact that this player with AK had taken me out of the tournament in the space of just two short hands. Another player at the table was saying things like: “So if he wants to FOLD he can still FOLD his hand, right?â€. The guy didn’t get it… eventually, he called and lost.
I wandered out of tournament room, resigned to my new internship as “Team Canuck Poker’s Buyer of Breakfastâ€. I was considering changing my nickname from “Devin ‘all_aces’ Armstrong†to “Devin ‘what’s_an_ante’ Armstrongâ€, because I wasn’t making it deep enough into these tournaments to find out. In the lobby, I ran into Kevin, who is ‘boxcard’ on this forum, and the chair of the Canadian Poker Hall of Fame. We introduced ourselves, and Kevin showed me a couple of passes he’d received to some sort of a beer expo at the Delta. Beer? Expo? OK, sign me up, and off we went. Unfortunately, the beer expo wasn’t opening for another few hours, so we decided to have some drinks in the casino bar instead, where we were promptly joined by Bob, who had also just busted out, but not before me. He told me that he likes to wait until I bust out, and then—with the stress of having to possibly buy breakfast lifted—he opens his game right up and busts himself.
The three of us had some good conversation about the state of the typical mid-limit poker pro and nickel-plated handguns, among other things. Kevin took off to play in a couple of satellites for the following day’s event (one of which he managed to win), and Bob and I played a bit of 20/40. We arrived in the game a little drunk, much to the displeasure of the rock garden that didn’t like the unexpected. Bob and I essentially announced that we were all KINDS of unexpected with our lighthearted banter and with Bob’s runner runner nut flush on the river. I think some of the players hated us. One of them said that he needed earplugs. This is the first time—and probably the last—that someone will imply that I talk too much at the poker table, or at any table for that matter. I know I tend to go on and on when I write, but sit me down at a poker table and maybe you’ll hear the occasional ‘check’ or ‘raise’, but that’s about it.
We got out of that game, and wandered around thinking about where to go for dinner. We wanted to go to The Keg, but it was far away and neither of us were in any shape to drive Dave’s SUV anywhere, despite his offer from his tournament table.Â
Fortunately we ran into a guy that Bob knows in front of the Delta, and he and his friends were about to hop in a car and drive somewhere for dinner. One of his friends, incidentally, was JP from the LHE tournament the day before. They invited us along, and we suggested The Keg. Off we went to The Keg, where we were soon joined by Dave who had just busted out, as well. It was actually a pretty risky move on Dave’s part to assume that Bob and I would have made our way there, because really, we could have been anywhere.
The six of us had a great meal, our busted-out spirits lifted by the good food and drink. When it came time to pay the bill, I knew that we had a bit of a situation on our hands. I owed the Team Canuck Party Fund between $400 and $500, from my score in Vegas. So, I knew I was buying dinner for Dave and Bob. That would leave a couple of hundred still in the fund, though, and Dave and Bob REALLY wanted to make sure the whole fund was gone, so they could laugh in Ralph’s face about it, essentially. Ralph had a wedding anniversary that weekend and was unable to make it to Regina, and as punishment, Dave was hell-bent on spending Ralph’s part of the fund. So I ended up paying for all six of us. And since that didn’t quite empty out the fund, Dave suggested I tip the waitress $100. I did, and that was that for the fund. Mission accomplished. I was thinking: “I bet these three guys are glad they ran into me and Bobâ€. Their score of a free meal turned out not to be such a big deal, though, as I saw them playing blackjack a little later in the weekend, betting pink chips on what colour the dealer’s cards were going to be.
We returned to the hotel, and Bob and Dave went to sleep. I hooked up with Kevin, who was in an understandably great mood after winning his way into the 1K event for the following day. We tried the beer expo again, but we got there too late. It was 10:45, and the beer expo was closed. So it wasn’t really so much of a beer “expo†as it was a beer “villa†or something. I don’t know, but “expo†sounds dynamic, and dynamic things should last longer than 3 hours and 45 minutes in a convention hall in a hotel. Kevin and myself had a few drinks in the casino bar, and called it a night.