I touched down in Vegas and I was hungry. The airplane meal consisted of a tiny turkey sandwich, a bag of chips and a mini Twix bar. It’s certainly better than the snack mix or the peanuts, but all it did is make me even more hungry. I vowed to eat as soon as I got the chance.
On the shuttle to the Excalibur, I talked with a woman who was in Vegas for the very first time. She wasn’t a gambler but I told her there were plenty of ways to occupy her time. I warned her that two things often get overlooked during vacations to Sin City: food and sleep. I vowed to eat something very soon.
I hit the door of the castle and felt right at home. I like the Excalibur. I’ve spent a lot of time there. I made my way to the sbo poker room in search of my fellow bloggers, the madness that would follow and food.
I needed to find Little Willie, because he had the key to my room, but I’m never good at finding people in the crowd. It didn’t take me long, however, to find the two biggest guns east of the Mississippi. Bad Blood and Mrs. Blood were sitting at a $2-$6 spread limit game. The guns so blocked the sun that I failed to notice a goateed Otis and the lovely Mrs. Otis at the same table. Little Willie was at the next table and I had my key. I was thinking about getting dinner.
It took my three trips up and down the elevator to find my room because I was completely lost. How I managed to get lost in the Excalibur, I’ll never know. When I got back to the poker room, it was time to head to the MGM Grand. There was no time for food.
Let me start by saying the Grand’s poker room is rather impressive. I would end up spending quite a bit of time there. Derek became the beginning of a poker blogger avalanche that would leave me wondering which member of the Minnesota mafia I had met. What I’m trying to say is that I have a hard time remembering names, and there were an awful lot to remember. Now if I only had remembered to eat…
The HORSE game was full and I told the nice people in the poker room that we’d take another table if they could set one up. In the meantime, I sat myself down at a $4/$8 half-kill table. I was a little apprehensive because I tend to play a little under that level, but I thought I’d give it a shot. Who needs food when you’re killing at the table, right?
I could do no wrong. Early on, I played a hand blind out of the big blind. Next orbit, I straddled three consecutive hands because of the empty seats that filled up beside me. And I threw in an early HAMMER to set an image. It apparently worked. My chip stack was growing faster than I could count it. If only I had known the lovely cocktail waitresses would bring food right to you.
My favorite hand of the night, naturally, would be the HAMMER (this would be a theme). In MP, I raise, correctly, with 7-2 offsuit. The BB and UTG both called. Apparently, they don’t respect me. They would learn. The flop came down 6-6-8. It’s checked to me, and, naturally, I lead out. The BB calls me, but the other guy finally realizes the power of the hammer. The turn is a 9, and suddenly, I’m on an open-ended straight draw! The BB checks and I, figuring the free card might actually help, check behind him. The river is a deuce and I figure I’m beat. BB actually leads out for $8 this time. I can’t fold (it’s the HAMMER after all) and throw 8 more in the pot. He flips K-high. I flip the 72o. Ain’t life grand? Eat that, Mr. Big Blind!!!!
Suddenly I look down and I’m at $1200. That’s right, I said $1200. At a $4/$8 half kill table. That’s like 75 BB/HR. I think that’s a new record. I must be the greatest poker player ever. I even had to seek out my fellow bloggers and spread the good news. They were happy, but understandably skeptical. I couldn’t understand why. I kick ass… that’s just the way it is. I could probably buy my own restuarant at this rate.
That’s when -EV stopped by to see just how soft this table was, and when I realized those blue chips were only worth $1. Um… so I was only up $300 at that point. I told -EV to go back and tell everyone. He said, “Hell no, I’m gonna tell ’em you’re up $1400!!!” I tried my damndest to squelch the story, but eventually, the task was overwhelming. All I could do was eat my words. Damn, I’m hungry.
“HORPSE” or “Dealer, Do You Know How to Spell?”