i'm visiting this year with younger brother matt. matt just turned forty, is a systems checker at microsoft, owns a real nice home, a ten minute walk from downtown seattle. he got interested in poker several years ago watching me play some on-line micro limit. he was amazed i could guess the holdings of the other players. hand after hand, i guessed what i was up against. i explained the logic behind the calculation and the game has fascinated him since. he's become quite good and normally plays much higher than i do. we've been to vegas twice before, together, ( i've been visiting regularly for about eleven years ) but not since june of 05. always fun, since matt is wealthy and is always up for several pints and a few hours of 2-4 no-look raising and compulsory straddle, chip hemorrhage. we're here for the laughs.

arrived saturday evening, july 2, hgvc suites at the flamingo, a huge 2 bdrm suite matt arranged for us at $105/night. very impressed by the room. full kitchen and living room, 2 sep large bdrms, king, 2 huge baths. looked out to the flamingo pool area.

expected to find games on a saturday night. did not expect the flamingo poker room to be full. did not expect there to be a half dozen 2-4 games going as well as all the 1-2. went for dinner at hhagogo, then got a seat in a flamingo 2-4 . ordered several blue moons and managed to cash out $20 winners after three hours of blind button raising, getting caught bluffing at most pots, and forever disturbing the equilibrium of the two new players trying their best to learn proper poker strategy. good start. heading back to the suite, i met up with matt, who'd arrived earlier in the day and spent his first vegas hours aboard the venetian 1-2 plo bungee ride. great action! he enthused.

july 3

sunday am, up a bit earlier than preferred due to the pounding euro-thumperbythepool. breakfast at hhagogo. seriously, does anyone ever clean a plate there? massive potions. set you up for many hours of high-energy drinking and chip spewing.

matt wanted more venetian buzz. i was indifferent. matt had only three days, i six, so where he wanted, we went. he played plo, i got in a boring 4-8. they started a 10-20 after an hour or so, with $2/hr comp and reduced rake. matt and i sat in and enjoyed more blind button raising and showing very bad bluffs. sure, we lost a bit of cash, but still a great value bet...consider; i raise three limpers from the button, blind. sb folds, 11 bets in the pot. flop comes K,8,2. check to the grinning tourist on the button. i bet, get called by the bb ( lady on call-tilt, well into her second rack of reds ), and mid. turn is another 2. get called by bb. river is an A. i bet the river, she calls (!?) and flips over AK. i still don't know what hand i've been betting. that's one of the rules of the blind button raise. as long as your bets get called, you can't look until river. 82o!!! Drinks! try not laughing after that hand.

as you've likely read, the venetian is packed. great action, all the time. we weren't the only tourists spewing chips and sucking beer.

we thought, why not the wynn for dinner. steak. it was a bit early, dinner not served for about an hour, so we detour to the poker room for another short session of 4-8. i find wynn poker overly serious. they do a great job controlling the room. but there aren't a lot of laughs. dinner was a special treat, however. soon after we sat and ordered, a young family was seated next, the young wife and mother of two seated directly, diagonally, across from me, next to matt. she was dressed like she wished she was naked. no other way to describe. formal negligee? barely containing her ample, bra-less, not very motherly, breasts. matt about coughed up a bread-stick, as she slide past him. we shared a look. Vegas. dinner and a show. she was slender, gorgeous, could easy pass for 25. thought at first she was a second wife to the older father with his two middle-school aged children. but they called her mom throughout, and the daughter looked just like. at some point, i was certain a bit of areola was visible. just shadow? couldn't be sure. tried not to stare. tried to stay casual. this happens all the time. a stunner sits next, nearly top-less, while you sup yer soup. then, there it was. full nipple, fully dis-lodged from behind the flimsy, overly loose, top. am i the only one who sees? her son suddenly speaks, mom...yes?, he motions to her mouth, a crumb of crust clings. that's the third visit from the busboy in a last half minute. he's noticed. husband looks down at his wife leaning into him, pales, whispers, she shrugs, slight adjust. clearly, she could care less.

after dinner, the wynn-nipple, remained a heady topic for the entire walk from restaurant to the south doors, where our attention was over-taken by the incongruent exterior view. high winds and a torrential rain had the exit area jammed with dripping, soaked tourists confused about their next move. taxi-stand was long, long. retreat to poker-room and more cheerless 4-8.

i fully understand why vegas pro aren't always smiley and up-beat. especially when some beer-addled fool is raising on the button w 82o, and getting there. but i can't excuse the tourists who sit down sour and whine about their cards, and whatever else is contriving to stand in the way of their wisking all the chips off the table. seriously, burro, lighten up. you are on vacation. something few of the pros at the table with you, can afford. have a drink. stop caring so much about the chip stacks. the pros are supposed to try and push you around. that's why you came here, to tangle with the pros you can't face to face at home. try and smile a little. and tip your dealer.

after the wynn, we walked through the crowds up to ballys and hung around outside waiting for the caesar's fireworks. and waited. then gave up, and caught the mono to mgm. somehow lost $ in the loose 4-8 game. after several pints, and a couple racks donated through too many blind button raises that mysteriously failed to produce miracles, i decided to slow the flow by switching to 2-4 limit. success! i only burned a hundy.

july 4

fully committed now to staunching the flow of chips leftwards, i tried to play, well, less like a drunken sot. we hiked over to bellagio for the free high-end drinks, found it too crowded and full, grabbed the mono to aria, found it likewise crowded and full, walked the tunnel to monte carlo, where a tourney was starting, and rescued a 2-6 spread that was about to go under. my first time in this game. sat to matt's left, always a good plan. he started to get his mojo here, after a couple days spinning tires. he quickly built a couple stacks betting the max at each opportunity. i lagged behind, but still cashed a modest win, after we decided we wanted a bit more action in a bigger game, first since day one. i'd never played south of excaliber, and planned never again to play that barn. matt suggested mandalay bay worth a look. i followed. we put our names up for the 1-2 ( not sure why, but i gave my initials as ATM. seemed funny, and painfully apropos. i liked the sound of ATM to 1-2, ATM to 1-2, and continued to use atm the remainder of my stay, so if you were at a table last week, and the floor called some fool named atm to your game, that was me :). we looked for a restaurant, settled on the hubert keller venu, and was disappointedly unimpressed with the portion sizes. small would be exaggerating. they served me soup in a shot glass. the bartender enthused " that's my second favourite choice on the menu"...really, have you tried the 'poached dew of california oyster shell' ?

the mandalay bay game proved everything matt predicted, soft with several wanna-b's and bad actors. one young man in a cap-back, tats, and ridiculously over-sized horn rims, took forever to fold when bet into. he was over-betting about 50% of the hands pre-flop, c-bet everytime, dragged several flops, and seemed genuinely surprised whenever anyone played back at him. he'd either bet/raise immediately, or go through this tortuously tedious process of pretending to think through all the permutations how he arrived at this juncture, then pho-reluctantly release his cards. in other words, a hesitation = a fold. every time. he was tolerated by most of the table, since he was spewing about a hundy an hour. only one playa took the delays personally, the second worst burro at the table. he was bitching and throwing cards pre-flop after each raise from horn-rim. eventually, he shoved two stacks pre-flop after a small raise. horn-rim looks at him and asks 'do you want action?' burro looks about to barf. horn-rim calls with Kxo, which stands up, un-improved. hissyfit asks for a table change. matt took best advantage of sitting just to the right of horn-rim. he repeatedly leveraged the aggression with his best hands. ( under-betting the flop, and calling hornrims over-raises. on the turn, depending on the strength of his hand and the whether he was head's up or three-way, he'd end the hand there with a big bet, or wait and check-raise ). this was matt's best session, his get even for the trip session. on the way home, we detoured into the mgm.

normally, i really enjoy this room. i love the noise, the energy, the action. i've had some great sessions here. this night was not one of them. we got stuck in a very tight 1-2, playing unusually low. there were two monster stacks and several under a hundred. one of the monsters was a very polite euro-pro prepping for the man event. he folded a lot. i did not see him limp or call once. he did not lose a hand he played. the rest of the table shrunk when he stepped into a pot. compounding this squeeze on action was the frigid conditions. it was freezing at our table. i lasted less than an hour, bailing to the 2-4's on the warmer, north side of the room. it was in this 2-4 game that i really hit my stride as a donking-inebriated chip-burning madman. the dealer politely asked if i wanted to wait a couple hands rather than foolishly enter the game utg. no way, i exclaimed, you're my favourite dealer, tossed a redbird into the straddle position, keep a dollar for yourself, pre-tip! most called, the button raised, capped, and the table went perma-tilt. it was a group of like-minded action-junkies. all could play up, all had chips, all were swept up in early morning gamboool!. except seat one, to my right. but he didn't count. everyone straddled a full round. we had lots of laughs, matt joined the table after losing half a rack of red at the sour 1-2, and won back most of it at this chip party. the table finally broke around 4 am. we completed our cab ride back to the flamingo, and since matt had to fly out at noon, as we passed by the flamingo poker on our way back to the suite, we sat down in a struggling 2-4. raise!

july 5, with about 3 hours sleep, matt flying home, and stuck around $500, i decide to play better :) not so much play good, or even well. just better. i mean it this time... i get a banana and a coffee, and sit down in a nitty 2-4 aces cracked limit game at the flamingo. only takes a couple orbits to bet away $60. hmmm. how about a 1-2 at ballys. play reasonably ok for a couple hours. up a couple of big blinds, get 99 utg, raise to $8, get called almost all the way around the table. flop is 234. bet $15, and re-raise the new guy a stack, after he raises me $40. wow i suck. then i call his all-in. why am i surprised he has 56o? a nine comes on the river and i honestly answer that i mucked a set. stuck $700+, i buy two more stacks of red. i have five twenties left in my pocket, and three more days. scheduled. i really must make better decisions. not long after, i get AA in the bb. small raise early, several calls, then the monster stack on the button re-raises to $38. i push in a hundred, fold around to button. he hums and haws. you got queens?, i ask. he doesn't answer. you gotta fold queens here. you can't call this bet, and i put a chip on my cards and slide them toward the dealer, pausing just before the line. really, you should fold your queens. he shoves. i'm such an a$$hole, but i really, really needed a double up. my aces hold against his kings ( what else ). i end up cashing out $650. oohahh! get food. cross the bridge and get sat in a terrible 1-2 at the bellagio. quickly cash out about a hundy ( this used to be my fav room. put in most hours here every trip. no more. it looks old, it feels old, it is crowded, and the action isn't any better than elsewhere. only draw now is the 10 yr macallen ). off to the the venetian, another 1-2, play to midnight, another healthy cash, total for the day, plus $700. needed that.

july 6,

i wake comforted by the hundreds peaking from my wallet by the bedstand and the knowledge that i can still get lucky as the next seat. start my day at harrah's. a 1-2 where a semi-drunk brit is going on about losing his shirt at some vague point in the early morning. turns out he's literally gambled away some high-end, custom tailored, virginia somebody designer, three-button collar (so it always stands up ), white shirt, specially ordered by his special somebody home in england. he went all-in, lost, then traded the shirt off his back for the chips he'd just donked, and the victor's t-shirt. which was way too small. good game. i was after the man's black wing-tips. he left abruptly, was gone about an orbit and a half, and returned in flip-flops. i cashed out.

caesar's palace was on my radar. i've never played the room, but always have at least one meal at the mesa grill during these trips. a spitball five star. the first table i sat at was short and tight and broke shortly after i entered. the next table was good action, but had four really strong players who were gobbling most of the live chips. in one hand, aggro-loose guy raises light, x-ray specs out-play-you-after-the-flop monster stack guy calls. QTQ flop, and a T on the turn. they get it all in and stacker asks 'you got a ten?' in other words, he knew for certain that his AJ was likely good. aggro had J9o and was drawing dead. i am fortunate to double-up twice vs. two of the looser players and am not upset to cash out winners soon later when the table breaks. unfortunately, after crossing the sports book, i find the grill has closed early for the night. damn.

head over to ballys for more rockin' 1-2. there's a deeply intoxicated norseman with deep stacks trying to outplay a very sober and very serious gentleman with about 1500 in red, sitting in the seven seat. they play several big pots against each other, the seven seat gradually syphoning off more and more as the euro-drunk consumes a few more whiskeys and tries over and over the same lame moves. complicating is the inebriated young lady from cali seated next to euro, who has captured at least half of his attention. abruptly, seat seven fills three and a half racks, and leaves. i quickly take his seat in order to a) get position on euro-raiser, and b) escape euro and cali's increasingly personal conversation. i play very tight for a few orbits, call a large raise with a suited ace, and double through the euro when the third spade rivers. shortly after, cali leaves, alone, then euro slinks away. i cash out of the suddenly small game, winners again. i love poker, again.

on the way back to the suite, i pass the flamingo poker room...surprise, i get in a loose 1-2. quickly get stuck $250, the table is about to break, when four seats open at the table next. we join forces, and shortly after, a young guy from germany overplays his aces against my flopped set. i double through him and re-coup back to even. a short time later, i notice that the sun is rising, finish my beer, and cash out. need a nap.

july 7,

last day in vegas. i wake at 11:20 and think i've just got time to see the start of the main event. quickly shower, cross the bridge to caesar's, grab a taxi, arrive at the tourny entrance just before noon, and find the main event moments before doyle is being introduced. he calls out 'shuffle up and deal'. there are lots of seats in the pit and i grab one behind doyle sitting at the tv table. he seems bored. the other players are clearly thrilled to be playing with him, likely his final main event. there is a play-by-play guy, which sounds as ridiculous as you'd imagine, since the hole cards stay secret. i leave, find the live poker room, get seated in a 1-3 (atm to the 1-3, atm to the 1-3 ). only one of my first five bluffs drags a pot, and i'm soon stuck. the action players go broke, and the table nits up. i wander off to get a cab. outside, the line is too long, so i detour around to the normal rio poker room. i'm seated at a great table. across from me, three brazilians are slamming shots and burning chips with massive over-bets and laughably loose calls. they laugh continually the entire time i'm at the table. they laugh until they can't see anymore and two of them go broke. it takes awhile. tragically, i only win a couple pots, and i cash out another loss. off to ballys for a cheap dinner ( thank you total rewards for the two slices of pizza ).

sit down at ballys in a very soft 1-2, grab a couple quick pots, then ask to get moved to the table next, where a rich aussie lady is loudly and gleefully burning through her racks. more fun with two pair, i double up. life is good. couple interesting hands; a) seat three makes it $15 in early, one caller to seat 6, who makes it $34, all fold back to seat 3, call, then all fold. heads up. seat 3 started the hand with between $550 and $600, seat 6 easily has him covered. they are by far the table's largest stacks. flop J 4 2, two diamonds. seat 3 leads $50, call. 6s on the turn, check, seat 6 bets $105, call. 6c on the river, seat 3 shoves all-in. seat 6 tanks. eight minutes. calls, seat 3 shows A3d, seat 6 23s, and drags the pot. that was cool, but now i should cash my winnings and find another game. as soon as i finish my beer...seat 3 buys another $300. i decide to stay. seat three burns through those stacks, too. i really should be going. i have about $300 in front of me, good, since i bought in for $100, but i've finished my beer, and the table has only one real weak player left. i really should be going...next blind i'm gone. get QQ utg +1, seat 6 raises to $10, i call, seat 8 raises to $25, one cold-call, we lose the blinds, seat 6 calls, and i...should bet about a hundy. but i just call. i really should cash out and go. J-high flop, two hearts, check to me, i bet $60, seat 8 calls, rest fold. Ah on the turn, i check, seat 8 bets $60. what would you do?

had a great time. the poker action is well worth the trip. have dinner at the wynn, say hi for me.

spitball