Saturday 8:23 am(PST): I was awake at 6:30 am a full hour before my wake up call was to occur. Is this adrenaline, or what? I looked for the coffee pot only to find there wasn't one. Now, how could that be? Why would they not put a pot in your room? Could it be that, once again, they do not want you to be in your room any longer than absolutely necessary?
Fortunately, I knew there was a coffee kiosk at the first floor a step away from the elevator. I shrugged on some clothes and went down. Unfortunately, there was a line. I waited with the other yawning folks, chatted with the woman in front of me who was there for the NFR. Ultimately got my latte and zipped back upstairs to shower and then back down to seek out a pair of clip-on shades. I'd lost my custom ones after 6 years, in the OKC airport. I'm very light sensitive (must be the vampire's in my family tree) and so do not venture to the outdoors in the day-time without them. I found a cheezy pair, but when I clipped them onto my glasses upstairs, they were just too cheezy. I opted to tough it out.
Pauly was on his way over to help carry the t-shirts. I doubled checked everything - my bounty: check; t-shirts: check; pepto: check; attitude: working on it. This is what I wrote while I waited:
"Terrified of making an ass of myself. Keeping track of the pot will take every bit of concentration I can muster. I'm grateful my 1st live tournament will be amongst (I hope) a forgiving group. This is one for experience!! Remember - Risk=Mistakes=Learning."
Pauly arrived and we were off. Down in the lobby several folks were at the
bar and downing some courage. We learned that Al had hired a super-stretch limo
to cart us to Sam's. Whoa. Several of us piled
in and then it seemed it was an interminable wait while the rest of the gang
was rounded up. I put a leash on the controller in me who would have been putting
the pressure to get rolling as I absolutely hate being late for anything.
I stayed afloat on that tide I was riding and rallied my patience.
Finally we were on our way. BadBlood had a CD which the driver popped in and cranked up - I wish I'd known the cuts, 'cause BB was offering $100 to name them as they came up! We, at my end of the limo, endured the 'concert' for as long as we could and then requested something more in the line of, oh, say, Sinatra. It didn't happen.
At last we arrived at Sam's Town. We disembarked and made our way to the Meet and Greet. I walked in and immediately recognized Ron Rose, Tom McEvoy, Charlie Shoten, and Marcel Luske. I dropped off my parcels, and made my way into the groups standing and talking. Before I knew it I was in a conversation with Marcel Luske.
Marcel is director for the IPF - International Poker Federation. What I was able to glean from our conversation was that he is determined to see that the rules of play become standardized internationally. He sees the need for regulation and especially the need for poker rooms to educated their dealers to the same set of rules for each game. Buy doing so, a player will know that she's sitting down to the same game of Hold 'Em in Amsterdam as the one she sits down at in Vegas. The same holds true for tournaments.
I would have liked to talked with him some more about this particular agenda, but it was time for some presentations. Charlie gave a short talk on his book No Limit Life. I like his approach. I work with people every day who are experts at putting a stop to any success they may achieve with what Charlie calls "thought terrorists." I'm looking forward to it's release in January. I visited briefly with him as we walked to the poker room and he generously offered to help, if possible, with some books for the program I work with.
Tom McEvoy also took some questions. And then came Maudie's most embarrassing moment of the weekend. I suppose I should be grateful it was only one. After Mr. McEvoy finished speaking I asked if he would sign the Tournament Poker book I had brought for that very purpose. I'd intended to put it in my bounty, but then I got selfish. I decided to keep it - I am a book collector and a signed edition is not one easily relinquished. He glanced briefly at the cover and kind of snickered. I didn't think anything of it. He asked who to make it out to, I answered, he signed and I put the book away.
After I'd busted from the tournament, I pulled the book out to read what he wrote, and glancing at the cover, I cringed. When I'd packed the night before I hastily grabbed the book from the shelf and threw it in the bag. Let me clarify. When I packed the night before, I hastily grabbed David Sklansky's Tournament Poker for Advanced Players and NOT Tom McEvoy's Tournament Poker... of which, by the way, I actually have 2 copies... and threw it in the bag.
So now I have a copy of Sklansky's book signed by Tom McEvoy. And I am eternally grateful for Mr. McEvoy's grace in not pointing out my faux pas and signing the book anyway. A class act. Side note to the VegasVegas crew - if it should somehow come up in conversation about that idiot who asked him to sign Sklansky's book, I hope you'll explain that Maudie had a senior moment, is mortified and apologizes.
Now a HUGE thanks has to go to Dick and Sam's Town for being so gracious to host this tourney and the Meet and Greet. Secondly, another HUGE thanks to Joseph Smith and the VegsVegas crew for all they did to bring the celebs so that this ragged gang could have the opportunity to rub shoulders with the best in the game. And another big thanks to Check 'N Raise Poker for the great jackets and other goodies. I'll definately be checking that site out as they seem genuinely interested in making it good for the players.
After arriving at the poker room, we drew for seats. I landed at table ? seat 10. My other table mates were as follows:
1. Poker Prof
2. -EV
3. Foiled Coup
4. Derek
5. Julie
6. Ferrari
7. FTrain
8. Hank
9. EvaCanHang
10. Moi
I was more than a little concerned to be sitting down stream of Hank and Eva,
but better to be down stream than up stream. I had my work cut out for me. As
we began, my nerves bubbled to the surface and I had the nervous shakes. Charlie's
words from his talk drifted through my consciousness and I fired back
at the thought terrorists that were creeping up to kidnap my good sense. I also
pulled out some actorly exercises and began some deep breathing to gain control.
I was also thankful that I was not at the table with Max and Charlie, for now.
Before long I was in a hand with Eva. I had A-2 and saw the flop for free. It came A-7-2. I'm not sure if I had the lead on this one or not, but I believe I made about a pot sized bet and Eva called. The turn came - another low card, I believe, bet call again. Then the river. We both ended up almost all-in, I was concerned she had A-7, but she hadn't raised me so I thought it unlikely. We both had the same hand, and split the pot! Saved in spite of myself.
Another time I had a pair of pocket 77 and I folded pre-flop to a raise and at least one call in front of me. I'd considered re-raising, but, while I may have remembered to pack the book, I forgot the brass balls. Eventually I calmed down and was able to pay attention to how people were playing, what hands were they opening with, what tells they may have had.
I received my first bad beat when I had a pair of jacks in the pocket. I raised the pot and Eva called. The flop came AAK - the worst possible flop for my hand. We both checked. Interesting. If she had an ace, she was slow playing, attempting to lay a trap. The turn was another K. Ow. Check, check again. The river was a blank - now I thought about making a play for the pot. But what I knew of Eva, or at least suspected, was that she would call, so I wimped and I believe we checked it down. She had Q-J, out kicking me.
I think 2 mistakes were made on that hand. One was, I didn't come in big enough pre-flop to get Eva to give up her Q-J. When the turn was checked, I had enough information that she didn't hit the board - I should have taken the pot right there with an aggressive bet or even all-in. If you differ or have greater insight, please let me know - I want to know.
Right before the break, and slim on chips, I got a pair of pocket nines. As the action moved around the table to me, I knew I'd be pushing on this hand - I needed chips. Hank bet, it got to me and I pushed. Hank thought for a few minutes then said, "I think we have a coin-flip here" and then he called. He flipped over a pair of sevens and, relieved, I flipped my nines. No seven came to bust me and I doubled up.
After the break, my chips dwindled again. I was not getting the cards, and
luck was sitting on someone else's shoulder. My second, and fatal, bad beat
came when Hank raised my blind. I had K-5 and said "I have to play this."
And I pushed all-in. Hank flipped over 7-6 and I sent an offering to the cosmos
for a King to make an appearance. Or at least no pairs for Hank. I 
got
my wish, sort of. No pairs came for Hank. A straight did. And I'm out at #14.
I did manage to outlast Charlie, which made Bad Blood happy - he won the prop
bet.
As is widely known by now, Felicia took the grand prize, besting WCP Max Pescatori. I was very glad she won. The tournament was a thrill and I learned a lot from watching the others play.
I taxied back to the Excal with CJ and BB. We planned to rendezvous for dinner after a brief visit to our rooms to refresh. I was exhausted and famished. I'd survived my first live tourney and learned a lot in the process. I also learned that it wasn't as difficult to keep track of the pot and the bets as I thought it might be. One huge advantage being there was no little clock counting down a scant 20 seconds and automatically folding your hand if you don't decide in time.
Next - a walk with CJ, celebrity gawking and doubling up with the cowboys....
