The Mandalay Session
Yesterday was my second day off in a row, perish the thought. First things first, I watched Tiger Woods and Rocco Mediate duke it out for an extra 19 holes on top of the 72 they played over the weekend. Tiger came out on top in what was truly a nerve-wracking, exciting, inspiring spectacle of sports. He battled his newly-repaired left knee for five days and Rocco pushed him right to the brink like few players have been able to. Tiger did what Tiger does though, presenting some gorgeous iron shots and making the clutch putts in the 11th hour to put himself in the record books one more time. Something to behold for sure. When that was over, at the respectable western hour of 2:00pm, I went to Green Valley Ranch to play a little bit. Their poker room is the most homey and comfortable I have been to here. The crowd is a little older and more shoot-the-breez-y, and it feels more like a game at your neighbor's house than a flop and drop casino money maker. Comfy chairs, friendly cocktail waitresses, and subtle decor. Nice place. I headed to the Strip after that, stopping by the house to grab Don first. We played all night at Mandalay Bay. When we were waiting to get seated, we bumped into fellow-PokerNews-er Joe Schepis playing $1/2 NL. There were two open seats at his table, so Don and I sat down.
I donked off money all night and was down about $500 within a couple hours. I couldn't get anything going, and I wasn't really playing well to boot. I had just about given up, ready to cut my losses when our game broke and we decided to move to the other table for just a little while. It was the drunk table. And it was awesome. At least two of the players had been cut off by the floor staff, and a couple more of them were drinking enough to be complete morons, both on and off the table. I got a little bit of my money back, but was still down a good bit.
And then I got tangled up with Joe. Joe had been talking shit all night, and he'd been in just about every pot I played. He's really not a great NLHE player because he plays it too much like a limit game. He plays far too wide a range of hands, and he checks and calls an awful lot. Not the right way to play no-limit. Also, he is a complete douche rocket at the table (and in life, for that matter). He insists on educating the table, he is constantly talking down to one of his opponents during and after hands, and he takes forever to make a decision every time.
Finally I got in a pot with him heads-up. I had a hand, I can't remember what, but it was bad. [J][Q] offsuit I want to say. I floated bets from him on the flop and turn both, and hit my card on the river, taking down a decent pot. He was all pissed at me, in a half-joking, half-serious way. He proceeded to berate me for five or ten minutes while and I just sat there and bit my tongue. The very next hand, I come in raising in early position with [K][J] off-suit. We're just about to leave for the night, and I am feeling tilty to begin with. Joe says something about how I was raising a lot, and mentioned, "I'm going to lead out at you with nothing next time." He and a few other players call. The flop comes [T][9][7], no hit but I have a double gutshot straight draw and two overcards. Sure enough, Joe fires out with a bet of $35. One other player and I call. The turn pairs the [7], and he leads out $75. The other opponent folds, and I drop in the call. I have no idea what to put him on, but I am in position, and I still feel I can outplay him. The river pairs the [T], and he checks over to me. I know he wouldn't do that with a ten, so now I put him on either an overpair or a missed draw. Maybe a nine, which he would probably fold to a bet. So I seize the opportunity and bet out all in for close to $300. He tanks for the longest time. Now I begin to get a bit worried, as I can sense his strength clearly. He furrows his eyebrows and shoots me the evil eye. He asks me if I'll show him if he folds, and I tell him I probably will. I should have just shut my mouth. That makes him want to call even more, and I start to get a little nervous. I had to do something, so I looked him in the eye and said, "Save your chips," as if he was my bro and I didn't want to bust him. After several long minutes of Hollywood-ing, he folds [Q][Q] face-up. I honor my word and slide my bluff of a [K][J] across the table. Joe got really pissed off at me, asking me how I could call two bets and once again berating his fellow player. It was awesome. I love it when guys like him get crushed. Don and I stood up a few minutes after that; I had managed to claw back to being just -$100 thanks to Joe. We were supposed to give him a ride home, but he was fuming mad and decided to just stay there. After we left, he stacked off the rest of his money... what a shock. Love it.
Moral: Don't be an ass at the table unless you are willing to call a big bluff.
I donked off money all night and was down about $500 within a couple hours. I couldn't get anything going, and I wasn't really playing well to boot. I had just about given up, ready to cut my losses when our game broke and we decided to move to the other table for just a little while. It was the drunk table. And it was awesome. At least two of the players had been cut off by the floor staff, and a couple more of them were drinking enough to be complete morons, both on and off the table. I got a little bit of my money back, but was still down a good bit.
And then I got tangled up with Joe. Joe had been talking shit all night, and he'd been in just about every pot I played. He's really not a great NLHE player because he plays it too much like a limit game. He plays far too wide a range of hands, and he checks and calls an awful lot. Not the right way to play no-limit. Also, he is a complete douche rocket at the table (and in life, for that matter). He insists on educating the table, he is constantly talking down to one of his opponents during and after hands, and he takes forever to make a decision every time.
Finally I got in a pot with him heads-up. I had a hand, I can't remember what, but it was bad. [J][Q] offsuit I want to say. I floated bets from him on the flop and turn both, and hit my card on the river, taking down a decent pot. He was all pissed at me, in a half-joking, half-serious way. He proceeded to berate me for five or ten minutes while and I just sat there and bit my tongue. The very next hand, I come in raising in early position with [K][J] off-suit. We're just about to leave for the night, and I am feeling tilty to begin with. Joe says something about how I was raising a lot, and mentioned, "I'm going to lead out at you with nothing next time." He and a few other players call. The flop comes [T][9][7], no hit but I have a double gutshot straight draw and two overcards. Sure enough, Joe fires out with a bet of $35. One other player and I call. The turn pairs the [7], and he leads out $75. The other opponent folds, and I drop in the call. I have no idea what to put him on, but I am in position, and I still feel I can outplay him. The river pairs the [T], and he checks over to me. I know he wouldn't do that with a ten, so now I put him on either an overpair or a missed draw. Maybe a nine, which he would probably fold to a bet. So I seize the opportunity and bet out all in for close to $300. He tanks for the longest time. Now I begin to get a bit worried, as I can sense his strength clearly. He furrows his eyebrows and shoots me the evil eye. He asks me if I'll show him if he folds, and I tell him I probably will. I should have just shut my mouth. That makes him want to call even more, and I start to get a little nervous. I had to do something, so I looked him in the eye and said, "Save your chips," as if he was my bro and I didn't want to bust him. After several long minutes of Hollywood-ing, he folds [Q][Q] face-up. I honor my word and slide my bluff of a [K][J] across the table. Joe got really pissed off at me, asking me how I could call two bets and once again berating his fellow player. It was awesome. I love it when guys like him get crushed. Don and I stood up a few minutes after that; I had managed to claw back to being just -$100 thanks to Joe. We were supposed to give him a ride home, but he was fuming mad and decided to just stay there. After we left, he stacked off the rest of his money... what a shock. Love it.
Moral: Don't be an ass at the table unless you are willing to call a big bluff.
posted by Eric at
8:46 AM
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