The gambling ramblings of Pauly -- a writer, traveler, and degenerate

 
Tao of Pauly: 2006 the Year in Review Video

Instead of posting a year end review of the Tao of Pauly, I decided to sift through all of the videos I shot during 2006 and spliced together a Best of 2006. I did not think it was possible but I managed to squeeze a full year's worth of traveling into a ten minute You Tube video. Excerpts are from Atlantic City, LA, Las Vegas, Colorado, Amsterdam, Tennessee, and Cincinnati. The only thing missing is the Playboy Mansion because I didn't bring my camera there.

Here you go: Tao of Pauly 2006 Travels (Click on the link if you are reading this through Bloglines or an RSS feed.)


Enjoy!
posted by Pauly at 12/31/2006 04:20:00 AM | Permalink |

 
Flipchip's 2006 Year in Photos

Flipchip is one of my favorite photographers. Check out some of his best photos from this past year:

2006 Poker Player Photos
Ladies of Poker Photos
Las Vegas City Photos

And don't forget about the Tao of Poker's photo gallery via Flickr.
posted by Pauly at 12/30/2006 09:40:00 AM | Permalink |

 
Tao of Poker: 2006 Year in Review Part II

The 2006 retrospective continues as I review the last seven months of 2006 including the WSOP.

* * * * *
June

June started out in NYC before my travels took me to Tennessee and eventually out to Las Vegas for the WSOP but not without stops in Colorado and LA. After cleaning up my storage space in New York City, where I threw out tons of junk and old stuff, I ended up taking several trips down memory lane as I sorted through nostalgic items that I kept. That inspired the Born to Gamble series as I capped off a ten week creative binge where I cranked out some of my best poker writing to date.

The Born to Gamble series continued with:

Born to Gamble Part III: Midnight Rider
Born to Gamble Part IV: Ramblin' Man
Born to Gamble Part V: Whipping Post
Born to Gamble Part VI: Revival

Just like in 2005, I spent the month before the WSOP writing a ton of freelance articles. Here are a few that were published online during June:

2006 WSOP Preview: The $10 Million Man (or Woman) (Las Vegas & Poker Blog)
Poker Stars: 5 Million and Counting (Poker Player Newspaper)
Online Poker: Avoiding Distractions (Poker Player Newspaper)
Pauly's Picks: Las Vegas Poker (Las Vegas & Poker Blog)
Poker Blogs: The Best of the Best (Bluff Magazine)

Here's a recap within a recap! I posted a recap of the 2005 WSOP.

I went down to Nashville to hang out with Spaceman and lovely Mrs. Spaceman for a few days with Change100 before we went to the Bonnaroo music festival with my buddy The Joker and Professional Keno Player Neil Fontenot. We even played poker at Bonnaroo! Here's the index of Bonnaroo coverage including two hilarious You Tube videos:

Bonnaroo Part I: Thursday Arrival (Tao of Pauly)
Bonnaroo Part II: Fanfuckingtastic Friday (Tao of Pauly)
Bonnaroo Part III: Superlicious Saturday (Tao of Pauly)
Bonnaroo Part IV: Sunday Finale (Tao of Pauly)
Bonnaroo video Part I
Bonnaroo video Part II

I moved back into my apartment in Henderson with Grubby which was 10,000% better than the Redneck Riviera and only five minutes away from Green Valley Ranch. I also added another video to my You Tube collection called Grubby's Secret Drawer where I revealed Grubby's morbid and secret addiction.

I finally arrived at the Rio Casino to cover the 2006 WSOP and found several new rules in place by the suits at Harrah's that limited my access on the floor. Spectators and railbirds had a better opportunity to cover the final table. As a media rep with a dreaded "red badge" I could not take photos from the stands or take notes. But if you were a tourist or railbird, you could do both. Fucked up, eh?

With limited floor access, I had to set up camp in the media room instead of sitting twenty feet from the final table in 2005. No more sitting in the trenches in media row. That was for the "green" badge people wich included inept CardPlayer interns some of which had no idea who Johnny Chan was or what a "dry side pot" was.

The media room was located several ballrooms away from the tournament area and Harrah's made about ninety people share a room designed for twenty. They finally gave us a second room after the media swelled to several hundred during the Main Event. But for six weeks, they jammed us into that tiny room.

Live blogging was prohibited which meant no more lighting quick updates on the Tao of Poker. Of course those four words (live blogging was prohibited) seemed to be absent from the vocabulary of a small percentage of readers who acted like spoiled jackoffs demanding live updates and chip counts when that was impossible and would put my badge in jeopardy. With several outlets paying me to write articles and recaps for them, I was not going to put my career on the line just to appease a few unsatisfied readers who have never paid me a cent for my writing.

The WSOP whored that aspect out to CardPlayer and PokerWire and my role changed. I had no choice. Looking back I can now laugh at the absurd demands of several readers. At the time, I was super pissed off because my options were limited and given the circumstances, I was doing the best that I could and at the same time sticking to my gameplan (spending less time at earlier events to conserve my energy and focusing on the $50K HORSE and Main Event instead).

I wrote for almost a dozen different outlets by the time the WSOP ended. With a deadline every four or five hours, the folks who paid my wages did not care if I had not slept in two days, or about the other outlets I wrote for, or whether or not I had the chance to update the Tao of Poker. It's a ruthless business and most of the other media reps had one or two outlets to write for at most. A few had more but I juggled several fireballs at once. That's why I got paid the big bucks... because I could handle that intense pressure for two straight months. But the one place I was writing for free was at the Tao of Poker. I was fortunate that 99.72% of the readers understood my situation.

I admit that the live coverage on the Tao of Poker was nowhere near as good as the 2005 WSOP. But if you look at the collective writings of every outlet (PokerStars, FoxSports, MSN, Las Vegas and Poker Blog, Poker Pro, Poker Pro Europe, Poker Player Newspaper, Expressen, and Poker Magazine to name a few) that I wrote for at the 2006 WSOP, my coverage was more comprehensive. Overall, the opinion that matters the most is mine and I felt that I did a better job with the 2006 WSOP, esepcially under the crappy circumstances.

Plus I was a lot more smarter about some of the information and dirt that I accumulated at the 2006 WSOP. Instead of pissing that away for free on the Tao of Poker, I stashed away those gems for the Las Vegas book.

I adapted a new strategy with a journalistic/beat reporter approach to the WSOP more than a live blogging monkey chained to my laptop. I experienced more of the overall WSOP and spent more time talking to players and other media reps than watching every single hand of the final tables of preliminary events. Unlike at the 2005, at the end of the day I felt that I was doing more real writing and my clients were very pleased.

Here are a few posts about the first week at the 2006 WSOP:

First Day at the WSOP: Buffets and Hookers 1, WSOP 0
Event #2 $1,500 NL
Tilt-a-Otis
Bad Beat Princess

* * * * *
July

July featured action at the WSOP and the summer gathering of the bloggers with F Train winning the prestigious blogger's tournament. I played in one WSOP event, and my first ever PLO event. Plenty of weird stuff went down at the WSOP such as Hellmuth winning his 10th bracelet, Chip Reese beating Andy Bloch heads-up for the $50K HORSE crown, the dealers mutiny, the birth of Liz Lieu Tuesdays, the dot.net fiasco, and other hijinks with bloggers including the infamous Keno crayon incident.



Here's the index of noteworthy posts including WSOP coverage:

Rafe First, Dutch "Bi-Polar" Boyd, and Hellmuth's 50
WSOP Fashionistas
Bouncin' Round the Room and Bathwater Surprise
WSOP Event #9 $5K NL Final Table: Hellmuth, Mercier, Luske, and Vinnie Vinh
F Train Rules and Hookers & Mashed Potatoes: Bloggers in Vegas Update
WSOP Ladies Event
Bloggers at the WSOP and Liz Lieu Tuesdays
WSOP $50K HORSE Day 1 Update, Mexican Wedding Crashers, and How I Won Grubby's Car
WSOP Rumors: Rebel Dealers and Andy Black's Hammer
WSOP $50K Horse Final Table: The Real Heavyweight Championship
World Series of Bad Beats, Grubby's Last Supper, and Liz Lieu Tuesdays
Hot or Not? A WSOP Conversation with Foiled Coup and 5251
Cyndy Day?
Lee Watkinson's Chimps Gone Wild and Ode to Paul McKinney
WSOP Photo Dump 7.22
I Lost $400 Because Otis Ate 2 Keno Crayons
WSOP Sports Jersey Photo Gallery
Ninja Midgets, BoDog, and Tao
Hellmuth: Poker's First 50/10 Player
WSOP Media Tournament and Poker Lifestyle & Expo Pics
Almost There: On the Cusp of the WSOP Championship
2006 WSOP Main Event Day 1A
2006 WSOP Main Event Day 1B
2006 WSOP Main Event Day 1C
2006 WSOP Main Event Day 1D

The dealers
Here are some freelance articles that I wrote during the WSOP:

First Impressions: 2006 WSOP (Fox Sports)
Chip Reese Wins $50K HORSE (Fox Sports)
Serious Business (Fox Sports)
Calm Before the Storm (PokerStars)

Here are the some photo galleries:

2006 WSOP Black & White Photos
2006 WSOP Photos
2006 WSOP Main Event Photos

Thanks to the following bloggers who bought Pieces of Pauly for the WSOP $1,500 PLO event:

Pieces of Pauly PLO Backers:
1. Grubby & Change100
2. Senor
3. Derek
4. Ryan
5. John Caldwell
6. Brandon Schaefer
7. Seatle John
8. CBGCs: Kat & Jules
9. Iakaris
10. Alan
11. Miami Don & SinCity Carmen
12. AlCantHang
13. Iggy
14. Joe Speaker
15. Big Pirate

* * * * *
August

I started the month smack in the middle of the WSOP Main Event and drinking way too many pints of Stella on dinner breaks at the Tilted Kilt. I had been hired by Otis and PokerStars Blog to cover their players for the Main Event. One of the perks was getting a free room for two weeks at Treasure Island. It was closer than Grubby's apartment in Henderson which meant that I got an extra 45 minutes of sleep every night.

Otis assembled a Dream Team of bloggers that included CJ, CC, Wil, Mad, Howard, Ali, Max Shapiro, and myself. With Ali sweating fellow Australian Joe Hachem and other Aussie and Kiwi players, Mad kept an eye on the Europeans, while Howard sweated the Brits and Irish players. CJ and CC followed on the rest of North American players on Stars, while Wil and I got the sweet assignments... covering members of Team PokerStars. I got to keep tabs on Tom McEvoy, Barry Greenstein, Humberto Brenes, Katja Thater, Isabelle Mercier, and Greg Raymer. If you watch the ESPN broadcasts of the Main Event, you'll see me in the background on the rail as both Brenes and Raymer bust out.

The play was super slow in the $50K HORSE event but the play was ultra fast in the Main Event, so much fast that the action ended early on a few nights and didn't need close to 1.5 days that was allotted for the tournament. The thousands of internet push monkeys helped accelerate the action as several friends went deep including an old friend from New York City Stormy and fellow bloggers Ryan and Tuscaloosa Johnny.

With only Allen Cunningham as the lone pro who made the final table, the missing chips rumors and speculation began to swirl. I was fortunate to get a few emails from an insider who used to be a former floor supervisor. He/She explained the dealer's mutiny and a possible theory of the missing chips.


What $12 million looks like
Here are the highlights from August including WSOP Main Event coverage:

WSOP Main Event Day 2A
WSOP Main Event Day 2B
WSOP Main Event Day 3
WSOP Main Event Day 4
WSOP Main Event Day 5
WSOP Main Event Day 6
WSOP Main Event Day 7
WSOP Main Event Final Table
Jamie Gold Wins 2006 WSOP Championship
WSOP Championship Time Line (Fox Sports)
Aloha
Inside the WSOP: Disgruntled Supervisor Speaks Out
Tilting Locals, Four Random Hands, and Return of the Poker Grub
The Menagerie of Tweakers and LLT
Tao of Three.

Here are some pics:

Random B&W photo dump
Flipchip's 2006 WSOP Photos
Tao of Poker's Main Event Gallery

Former Star Trek Actor feeds meth addiction by stealing water
When the WSOP ended and Jamie Gold won $12 $6 million, I headed back to Henderson and got to play some poker at Green Valley Ranch and Red Rock. Grubby took a job designing slot machines in Chicago and came back to Las Vegas to pack up the rest of his things. It was a sad moment as we both said goodbye to the apartment in Henderson.

I finally left Las Vegas and went to Boulder, CO to decompress after a tough two month assignment. I earned and saved enough money during the WSOP to take the rest of the year off from covering poker tournaments and went back into semi-retirement. Aside from a few columns, I did not take on any freelance work as I returned to NYC to write before I hit the road again to do some more traveling.

And and yeah, the Tao of Poker thurned three years old in August!

* * * * *
September

I took a break away from all things poker when I moved back to NYC to rewrite Jack Tripper Stole My Dog. I headed down to AC then over to AlCantHangland, PA for the annual Bash at the Boathouse where blogger hijinks ensued. Here are the recaps of that four day bender which included my birthday in NYC and some guy calling StB a sore loser at the Borgata:

Treading Water: Bash at the Boathouse Part I
Moments of Clarity: Bash at the Boathouse Part II

Other noteworthy posts from a dead month include 21 Flavors: A 2006 WSOP Photo Dump and Dear Hillary where I told my faux-Senator to vote against Frist's UIEGA.

* * * * *
October

October 2006 for some. Black October for others. Poker players got "Frist-fucked" when Bill Frist railroaded the UIEGA at the end of the Port Security Bill. Party Poker pulled the plug and all of their revenue went right down the crapper. Party Gaming stock was worth less than toilet paper. But PokerStars and Full Tilt hung in there... for now.

Frist fucked me over when I lost several clients due to his hard-on with online poker and I also had to take a 25% pay cut for one of the magazines I write for. Freelance writers don't make a lot of money. Freelance poker writers make even less. And after Frist, the entire poker industry (non-online poker sites) took a major shot to the gut. His attempt to appease the Religious Right made it tougher for me to earn a living. For that, Bill Frist wins the Tao of Poker's Assclown of the Year Award.

Bush II signed the bill and we're a few months away from the banking industry figuring out how to enforce it. The UIEGA got a lot of people sleepwalking through life fired up about something important as our personal freedoms are eroding every single day. Today it's online poker. Tomorrow it's full access to the internet. Geez, I'm starting to sound like the Human Head!

I started the month in NYC working on my book and eventually migrated to the Left Coast. I spent time in LA and Las Vegas for the Vegoose music festival. I played a lot of online poker and enjoyed the last few days at the profitable tables on Party Poker. I cleaned up as the last of the fish donked off the last of their Party Poker dollars. That run was mentioned in Business Week article called Online Gambling Goes Underground.

In a very serious month, I took a not-so-serious approach to life and that attitude showed in the writing on the Tao of Poker. Here are some of my favorite posts from Black October:

Bad Beating a Danish Prince
Crisis = Opportunity
Prison Tips for Online Poker Players
Exile on Main Street
Discipline
R.I.P. Party Poker
Gracie Wins the Spice Girls Essay Contest!
A Rain Gently Falls
Nietzsche Died of Syphilis
AlCantHang & Pauly's Blogger Quiz
Drunk Grandma at Green Valley Ranch

And yes, my brother Derek won the Blogger Quiz and Gracie won the Spice Girls Essay contest in a close race. Too bad that the UIEGA went down because one of my favorite poker posts of all time Bad Beating a Danish Prince got overlooked from all of the UIEGA fall out. If anything else stands out from the month, it has to be Exile on Main Street.

* * * * *
November

I spent the first half of the month traveling... Vegas to NYC and then to Amsterdam. I played a ton of heads-up Chinese Poker against Change100 in Amsterdam as she went on MECPT (Mega Euro Chinese Poker Tilt). I came home early after the Tao got hacked but thanks to blogger.com, everything was restored.

I spent the rest of the month in NYC writing. 15 minutes was one of the best pieces I had written in months and Sophism was my favorite posts of the year to crank out. Poker wise, I was grinding it out online at the Limit tables as I tried to break even for the year. And Iggy quit blogging. Sort of.

Here are some interesting posts from the month:

Tilt and Flow
Ummm... I'm Not Dead Yet
Crack
15 Minutes
Sophism
Book Review: Why You Lose At Poker

On Turkey Day, I gave a message of thanks especially to my top referrals of the year.

Top 10 Referrals of 2006:
1. Las Vegas & Poker Blog (Poker Prof & Flipchip)
2. Wicked Chops Poker
3. Guinness and Poker
4. Aaron Gleeman
5. Tao of Pauly
6. Chris Fargis
7. AlCantHang
8. Up for Poker
9. Pokerati
10. Pot Committed

* * * * *
December

December was a fun but wild month where I spent time in Hollyweird, Las Vegas, and New York City. I headed out to Vegas for the 3rd annual December blogger gathering, which was one of the best to date. Congrats to -EV for his victory in the Holiday Classic tournament.

I decided to write up my Vegas trip reports in a different way and weaved in the Seven Deadly Sins after I went off the deep end and went on MPGT (Mega Pai Gow Tilt). I donked off $2K quickly. Here they are:

Part I: Lust & Gluttony
Part II: Wrath
Part III: Greed & Sloth
Part IV: Envy
Part V: Pride

Here are the other posts from the blogger weekend in Las Vegas:

Preamble
Snailtrax, Male Prostitute
-EV Prevails
Epilogue

I also reviewed of Jay Greenspan's book and revised my infamous Vegas Tips:

Book Review: Hunting Fish
Bloggers Invading Las Vegas 4.0

And kids, always remember Rule #20! Don't get rolled by a hooker. On that note, I'm done with the review. Thanks for reading. See you in 2007.
posted by Pauly at 12/28/2006 08:12:00 AM | Permalink |

 
Tao of Poker: 2006 Year in Review Part I

These posts are always my most favorite and least favorite posts rolled into one. I always start out writing a lot and then I'm pressed for time, so I hurry up and rush through it. However, Looking back on the year allows me to reflect upon my poker life in the last 350 plus days something that is essential for me to do before I begin a new fiscal poker year and I hammer out my goals for the upcoming year.

As I opened up the archives from 2006, there are dreaded moments that I'm glad are over and there were some highlights that I wish I can replicate sometime in the future. I'm not one to dwell much in the past so I immerse myself deep into reflection one the rare moments when I do. I've come to understand that your current frame of mind, head space, and levels of sanity often tweaks the perception of your past. I'm in a good mood now so I'll end up overlooking the bad points and downplaying the highlights.

One year ago I was in horrible shape mentally. My grandmother had just passed away, I was mentally bankrupt, my bankroll was bleeding, I was burned out as a tournament reporter, and utterly disappointed with the poker scene. In short, I dreaded the upcoming year, particularly the 2006 WSOP. Sure everyone might have enjoyed my coverage of the 2005 WSOP, but the toll it took on my body and spirit was immense. That's why the last thing I wanted to focus on in 2006 was poker.

And as expected, I got so sick of poker that I quit and even pulled my blog as I walked away from the game, the industry, and the community. After a drive down the Pacific Coast Highway, serious soul searching, and conversations with several people I trust the most... I made the decision to come back but knew I had to have a greater appreciation for poker and to take more breaks if I was to come back and flourish. The result ended up being a much more enjoyable experience at the WPT Championships and an amazing 2006 WSOP. I rediscovered a passion for the game and accepted my role within the poker industry and community.

The biggest change for me was the dedication to have a more rounded life and not let poker take over all facets of my existence. For the first time since I started in the industry I turned down work and several well paying assignments. I'd rather just get by and have more free time on my hands than to be miserable working so much. I found a happy middle ground where I was able to devote more time to friends, travel, music, and personal writing. I had more time to dedicate to Truckin' and the Tao of Pauly. I traveled more in 2006 than in previous years and I caught more new bands and saw more concerts than the year before.

I regained control of my life again. Having poker dictate my life made me an unhappy person and cutting back ended up being the best solution to my problem. I had a greater appreciation of the time I spent with poker and at the same time, I did more things that pertained to my personality in order to keep a healthy balance between work and play. And I found a semblance of happiness that had been absent from my life for a very long time. I lived more in the moment, fully enjoying my time in poker and out of poker, knowing that I'm miserable when both are not in a harmonious balance with one another. I also needed both to survive.

With a positive attitude, the words flowed smoother and I was able to absorb the shock of the UIEGA a little bit better than others. Sure, I lost a few clients and had to take a pay cut, but I'm getting assignments for 2007 and it looks like I'm pretty much booked through the 2007 WSOP which will allow me to take off five months at the end of 2007 to travel and work on a new project. I prefer that formula.

Overall, 2006 was a positive year for me. Although I didn't reach the level of writing I wanted to achieve, I did make some improvement across the board. Professionally, I've been fortunate to maintain regular columns in two publications and contribute as a writer to Fox Sports. In 2006, I got hired by the Borgata and PokerStars which were nice names to add to my poker resume. And in the last month or so, I worked out a deal with Poker News to help cover the Aussie Millions in January for them which will include writing, live blogging, and even some radio commentary.

There are a few moments that stand out such as working for the Borgata Winter Open, attending the Playboy Mansion with my friends, covering the 2006 WSOP, and the gathering a few weeks ago. Of course, there are some bad moments too like a horrible losing streak, getting fucked over by Poker Pages for the LAPC, quitting poker, the non-exclusive access at the WSOP, losing a few clients due to the UIGEA, and getting the Tao hacked. And then there were non-poker highlights such as March Madness wih Senor, two music festivals (with Professional Keno Player Neil Fontenot), spending lots of time in LA, a trip to Amsterdam, and getting to rewrite my first novel.

As far as poker playing, I started out the year in the worst losing streak of my life. Eventually the bleeding stopped and I built the roll back up thanks to the awful players that used to be swimming around on Party Poker. When Party Poker stopped doing business in America, I lost my ability to print money to cover my loses at the other poker sites and at the sports book. The winning ways stopped and I was back to being a break even player. However, I'm ending the year on a strong note hitting and running at the 5/10 tables on FT and PokerStars. If I didn't have a feeding frenzy of tournaments in late November, I'd be up for the year and wouldn't be worrying about breaking even during the last few days of 2006.

On a personal level, I've been able to make a few new friends in the last twelve months thanks to poker. I've also solidified older friendships and there are people that I met through poker who are making valuable contributions to other aspects of my life socially and romantically. Several have made the jump from "poker friends" to simply state... my friends. I'm fortunate for those people in my support group and I'm well aware that I wouldn't be where I'm at today without the majority of them in my life.

I enjoy playing poker again. Usually I can't wait to get my writing or traveling done for the day, so I can sit down and fire up PokerStars for an hour or so. I started reading some blogs again and I'm back to covering tournaments... if only sporadically. Taking longer breaks from poker and minimizing my days in Las Vegas (and when I'm there spending more time away from the Strip like at Red Rock National Park or in the burbs of Henderson) ended up being the best way to maintain a higher standard of mental health.

Just when I thought the Tao of Poker was near its death, I'm feeling more positive about it than ever before. Sure all of that can change in a heartbeat and if the run is over tomorrow, I'll shed a quick tear but be ready to say, "That's was one helluva run."

That's part of the reason the last blogger gathering in Vegas was one of the best to date and the reunion became a very special moment for several of my friends. We partied hard and barely slept because it theoretically could be the last ever gathering. With the understanding that all good things come to an end, we soaked up the weekend like it was the first and at the same time celebrating our success, our run, and our friendships.

Yeah it sounds cheesy, but I'm happy to be here and I can't wait to get to Australia to cover the Aussie Millions. Like everything poker in my life I get to take you along for the ride.

For now... it's time to look back at 2006 on the Tao of Poker as I review the first five months.

* * * * *
January

I had this crazy idea that I would only take me two weeks to write a manuscript about my experiences living in Las Vegas and covering the 2005 WSOP. I had one publisher interested they decided to pull out at the last moment when their other poker titles were not selling. After realizing the draft that I wrote was third-rate horseshit and with no publisher interested, I abandoned the project. I keep wavering back and forth whether or not I wasted those two weeks or if there was any intrinsic value to my failed attempted at a Vegas book. In the end, I have to feel positive that I wrote 18-20 hours a day, every day for two weeks straight.

I took a break from the Tao of Poker while I wrote the Vegas book and asked my friends Daddy, BG, BigMike, Joe Speaker, Bobby Bracelet, Change100, Gracie, and even Otis to step up and write a series of guest posts. They all shined with their posts and Daddy pitched a gem after I handed him the ball for Game 1. Here they are:

A Bad Beat Story by Daddy
Fundamental Need To Be Correct by BG
A Day in the Life by BigMike
Low Buy-In Online Tournament Manifesto Version 1.0 by Joe Speaker
The More Things Change... by Bobby Bracelet
Two Inches of Banana by Change100
Ladies Night by Gracie
Action Island by Otis

After the two week hiatus to start the year, I headed down to Atlantic City where I lived at the Borgata for two weeks covering the Borgata Winter Open.


I did the assignment with Friedman and the Philly boys Frank and Mike and it was by far one of my favorite freelance gigs to date. The Borgata treated me like a true king as I had free reign of the entire casino for two weeks including the employees cafeteria which had ice cream and frozen yogurt. I befriended locals (like Action Bob), poker dealers, floor people, and a few suits before my stint was over. I'm also a huge fan of their beds because I overslept a few times (which had not happened in years) because the beds were so comfortable than an insomniac like me had a pleasant slumber night after night.

Of course, I also got to meet the newly crowned Miss America and boxing champ Antonio Tarver, who was kind enough to shoot the shit with me for ten minutes about the similarities between boxing and poker.

Take a peek at the Borgata Winter Open photo gallery.

One of my biggest regrets is my schedule not being able to fit in with the Borgata for their other events. Let's hope that I can do some work with them in the future. Check out my first day of coverage at the Borgata Winter Open and my coverage of the WPT main event.

* * * * *
February

I started the month still in Atlantic City covering the final table of the WPT Borgata Winter Open. The Grinder eventually won and his final table featured Erick Lindgren, Stuart Patterson, and John D'Agostino. Here are some pics that I took:

Erick Lindgren & The Grinder


Michael "The Grinder" Mizrachi
2006 WPT Borgata Winner Open Champion
I managed to play some poker at the Borgata before I left, I summed up in a post called Turn This Mother Out. Here's a bit:

"Call me Nicky," he insisted, "I want you to know the name of the guy who is going to take all your money!"

He began taunting me early on. He had the hipster kid from Brooklyn on tilt and must have run through at least 4 or 5 buy-ins according to the Russian chick sitting next to me. She reminded me of a young Meryl Streep. Her accent was thick and she smelled like flowers and blueberries. She sipped on a sea breeze or some sort of vodka-cranberry concoction. She was shortstacked and if I spoke better Russian, I would have figured out that she was the table captain...More

BG had some health problems and I started up the Save BG Fund where friends, readers, and bloggers pitched in to help BG with some medical bills. He has since recovered and is more snarky than ever!

I was caught in a terrible losing streak and wrote an essay about Gilligan's Island and poker called Island Theory of Ending Losing Streaks. Here's a bit:

Whenever I'm in a tough bind, I turn to television to solve my problems. This time I'll use Gilligan's Island to help pull me out of my losing streak.

Seven strangers stranded on a deserted island. Hilarity ensues. As much as they try to get off the island, they can't. The secluded island resembles the my current state of poker play. I'm trapped and can't get away from my losing mentality. I realize that at some point, my poker play has taken on the personalities of everyone from the cast of Gilligan's Island... More

My losing streak ended as I began a brand new winning streak which I wrote about in Market Corrections, Bozos, and Bolos. Here's a bit:

The Bozos had seats facing backwards on their tourbus so they could look back, while the Bolos sat looking forward. That represented two styles of thought. Are you one to look back constantly? Or do you stay in the moment while looking toward the future? I cannot answer those questions for you. That's something you have to figure out how it applies to your poker play.... More

I flew out to LA but the trip was bittersweet and full of drama. There was a mix up with Poker Pages after I was hired to cover the LAPC event in December of 2005. After getting blown off for a week, I was told that my services were not needed less than two weeks before the start of the event. They didn't even have the decency to tell me. I had to track them down. Without a place to stay in LA and already in the hole after renting a car for a week and buying a plane ticket, I was pretty much fucked. The owner didn't apologize, nor bothered to offer to pay for the car or plane or help find me a place to stay. I learned another valuable lesson about dealing with folks in the poker industry... mainly that I can't trust them, especially Poker Pages.

Friends helped out. Change100 let me stay at her apartment and Amy Calistri (then editor of Poker Pages) compensated me for the plane ticket out of her pocket. The gesture was amazing (because Amy is a wonderful person) but I was even more disappointed that Poker Pages lacked professionalism. Once again.

That incident sparked a revolt within Poker Pages which has not been the same since. I'm fortunate that my friends felt that how I was treated by their company was more important than their own jobs. Amy quit as editor over the incident. Soon after, Tim Lavalli and BJ Nemeth left.

I enjoyed myself at the LAPC and it was nice to see Shirley Rosario who had been diagnosed with breast cancer. Overall, I lost money on the trip when I could not drum up enough freelance work (on such short notice) to cover all of my expenses. That salty experience was just another reason why I wanted to quit poker, especially because considering how many hours I had to work, poker tournament reporters made a lower hourly wage than the people at Starbucks. And customers at Starbucks don't bug their workers for constant chip counts for Phil Ivey.

Only a few weeks after the cushy Borgata gig, I was smacked back down to reality. Even the best reporters and writers in poker still get treated like shit and fucked over and the LAPC was a perfect example of that.

Without a sponsor, I headed to the LA Poker Classic solo and for the first time, I covered the event for only the Tao of Poker. Sure, I wasn't getting paid but it felt good to be out there on my own where I called all the shots. The first five days of action went quick as actor James Woods made a run for the money. Most of the biggest names in poker were in town. They didn't care about the tournament per se, rather they preferred the high stakes action downstairs in the poker room.

I live blogged the final table of the WPT LA Poker Classic that was won by Alan Goehring. The final table featured Mike Woo, JC Tran, Per Ummer, Steve Simmons, and Dan Quach.

I tried to win a seat to the WPT Invitational by a satellite. There was a media event where the winner would win a seat. I made the final table but ended up in 3rd place after Barbara Enright sent me to the rail in a vicious bad beat. That was the third or fourth of the day from her.

I covered the WPT Invitational at Commerce Casino featuring Wil Wheaton and a slew of poker playing celebs. Wheaton introduced me to George Costanza who instantly made my list of Top 5 Celebrities That I've Met.

Wheaton went on a great run and ended up the last celebrity standing as he won the celeb last longer which meant that the WPT donated money to his charity City of Hope.

I snapped some of my favorite pics of the year during the WPT. Here are a couple:


Wil Wheaton, Jason Alexander, and Danny Masterson


James Woods
Please check out the LAPC photo gallery and the WPT Invitational photo gallery.

Then there was In Cold Blood: Another Night at Murderer's Row which was supposed to be a recap of HDouble's infamous LA homegame that ended up being one of the last to be played. Here's a bit:

The infamous homegame at Murderer's Row in West L.A. is a place that no matter how well you played, you're still not guaranteed to leave without getting your junked kicked so far up into your esophagus, that you're gonna need emergency colon surgery just to pluck out your swollen testicles from your digestive track.

The Murderer's Row game is filled with some of the best minds in poker including an eclectic collection of the astute programmers and members of the poker blogging elite. Whether it's cash games, tournaments, online poker, or playing in the super loose local cardrooms... you'll easily find a successful player in one of the regular seats at Murderer's Row. With a mine field cluttered with tight players and loose maniacs, you're constantly playing the guessing game and must switch gears on every hand in order to survive... More

* * * * *
March

I started the month in Hollyweird and got a ticket... for jaywalking. Change100 got one too and went on MLACT (Mega L.A. Cop Tilt) when he wrote out our tickets. Here's a bit:

We jaywalked to the other side and as soon as we reached the sidewalk, a motorcycle cop drove up and told us to stop.

"Can I see some identification," he said as he took off his mirrored sunglasses at 8:10pm. "And sir, your zipper is down."... More

I stayed in LA for a little longer than originally intended which I explained in Ground Hog's Day. Here's an excerpt:

I'm still lurking in the shadows of the Los Angeles. I've become a cliche that I've been dreading... the drug-addled writer from New York City who can't leave the City of Angels caught up in a bumbling pack of strung out studio execs, c-list celebrities, and former German golden showers porn stars. I feel like Bill Murray's character in Ground Hog's Day. I wake up everyday in the same place and I desperately try to get out. I can't seem to muster up enough energy to leave this town. A jaywalking ticket and a dead cat isn't enough to pull me away from the sunshine and loose poker players... More

Yeah, I forgot about the dead cat.


I also penned one of my noteworthy posts of 2006 called Buwkowski and Poker, inspired by a legendary L.A. poet and one of my favorite writers Charles Bukowski. I dedicated the post to TC, a friend of Daddy's from Indiana who had been ill. Here's a bit:

We're all criminals. Doesn't matter if it's poker or Super Mario Brothers, we're all a part of a society built on the evil deeds of thieves, murderers, cheaters, and liars. Some of us get caught and the rest of us have to live with the guilt knowing that we are ruthless souls wandering throughout life. That's why we play poker. To either escape from the seriousness our daily lives for a few hours or to escape into orgasmic dream of winning it all and becoming the next World Series of Poker Champion. I'll see you at the tables... More

I posted an interview with WPT Borgata Open Champion Al Ardebili, who was happy to help me out with it.


Buckeye's Aces
I also played in the last game at the Blue Parrot after Ferrari sold it and moved to a new place downtown. Here's an excerpt:

The Blue Parrot will always be mentioned as an integral part of New York City poker lore. For the last two years, I've been fortunate to call the Blue Parrot "my home game." It's been the location of some of the wildest games I've ever played in. The seats at the Blue Parrot featured some of the best Ivy League legal minds in the city along with a rotating cast of characters that often reminded me of a bad Saturday Night Live skit on LSD.

The players came from all walks of life. Teachers. Sports writers. Corporate litigators. Mortgate brokers. Slam poets. Fashion photographers. Scientists. Law clerks. Even a comedian, a screenwriter, and a few Columbia students. Swish was a Blue Parrot legend who was willing to see any two cards to the river. He was a famous sportswriter at prestigious NYC newspaper and has since moved down to Washington DC. Swish and I were involved in a lot of tough hands during late night sessions at the Blue Parrot. Things also got weirder after Midnight in some of the games that went until sunrise. When Rick Blaine and his wife moved out to San Francisco, he was certainly missed. However, in the same week that Rick left the Blue Parrot, it was the same time as F Train arrived from LA... More

I went to Las Vegas to gamble on the March Madness tournament with Senor. We stayed at the Mirage and lost a ton of money. Grubby, Joe Speaker, Change100, Senor, and myself walked into a strip club in Las Vegas... that sounds like a punchline to a joke but it really happened which I document in the post Strippers and Blow:

By the end of the night I must have paid for her flight from NYC to Las Vegas. The lapdances were average, but she was feisty and kept grabbing my nipples. I know that too much information to reveal, even on a blog, but I admit... I like have my nipples squeezed by hot strippers in Las Vegas at 1am. And she just didn't squeeze them, she molested them. I loved every second of it.

She gave Change 100 three lapdances. At one point, she was grabbing her breasts and pinching her nipples. They were all over each other. I admit, I got a chubby. Nothing beats girl on girl action. I love to watch.

"I can tell, you're a naughty one," Nicki said.

"Don't you know it," admitted Change100.

After it was over, I asked Change100, "Were you making out with the stripper?"

She said no, but the look in her eyes said, "Yes." ... More

And then it happened. I was invited to the Playboy Mansion with a group of bloggers that included Spaceman, Joe Speaker, BG, Bobby Bracelet, CJ, Chad, and AlCantHang. Thanks again to Joy for making it happen! Mrs. Spaceman sent me an e-mail telling be to have fun, but to be safe.


I never finished the trip reports because it was one of those things that can't be verbalized... it just had to be experienced. I did write Bloggers and Bunnies Part I: The Arrival and Part II: Where's AlCantHang? Here's a bit:

I turned to AlCantHang and said, "Let's go do some shots."

As the late arriving players rushed past us, he didn't say anything and walked to the stone bar. Just as Babe Ruth called out a home run in the 1932 World Series, AlCantHang made a similar motion towards the bartenders. He raised two fingers and by the time we arrived at the bar, two double shots of SoCo had been poured for us.

Yes, even at the Playboy Mansion, the bartenders know what AlCantHang drinks... More

* * * * *
April

April was a tough month. I was sick. I quit my blog. Then after some soul searching, I returned to the Tao. I also went back to covering tournaments. The majority of the posts on the Tao of Poker in April and May of 2006 represent some of my best writing to date. The passion was there. The fire was back in my belly.

The reasons for my departure were obvious as I stated in The Last Waltz.

Here are some of the infamous April posts which include covering the WPT Championships at the Bellagio:

April Sojourn
Rebirth
Dazed and Confused: WPT Day 3
Hump Day Friday
WPT Day 5, Young Black Ass-Worship Slaves, and Dead Sharks
Day 6: Does Cinderella Wear Dolce?
2006 WPT Championship: The Final Table
Glass Eyes, Red Rocks, and Omaha Suckouts

I took a bunch of pics at the WPT Championship. Check out my 2006 WPT Championships gallery on Flickr.

Oh and in April, I finally made the same final table as my brother! And I also posted an job offer for a female intern during the WSOP. I could not pay anything but I did manage to offer, "Free lapdances during bi-weekly field trips to strip clubs."

* * * * *
May

5:30am... Sunday... Covington, KY... Daddy hit on 3 different Waffle House waitresses while he devoured a triple order of hashbrowns topped with chili and a pecan waffle on the side... the 20 year old pear-shaped waitress with three kids had a tattoo on her wrist that read "Total Bitch" in faded aqua ink...

May was an amazing month. After what seemed like several months in Hollyweird and Las Vegas, I went back to NYC and spent time with my brother. I also wrote a ton before I was scheduled to hit the road again in June and move back to Las Vegas to cover the WSOP. In May, I went out to Cincinnati to visit Iggy and some very special guests. I sat in a high stakes game down on Wall Street and I started writing something that turned into the Born to Gamble series which will be included in the next incarnation of the Las Vegas book.


Here are some gems from May:

The Warrior Within: Bruce Lee, Taoism, and Poker
Through the Looking Glass: April Maelstrom
Mother Lovebone
The Wall Street Game
LaFeltah Vermouth and the Village Drunk
Tao of Keno
Born to Gamble Part I: Where It All Begins
Born to Gamble Part II: Southbound.

Daddy also returned with two guest posts called A Bad Beat Story: Part II and The Routine.

In LaFeltah Vermouth, I recap my trip to Cincy to hang with Iggy. He took me to one of the riverboats to play cards. We caught a Reds game with Daddy, BG, Maudie and GMoney. I played in Iggy's homegame (held across the river in Covington, KY) with TeeDub, GMoney, Dann, Mr. Fabulous, and Duggle Bogey. Daddy and I managed to make two late night/early morning binge eating sessions at the worst Waffle House in all of Kentucky.

For shits and giggles, with the help of my buddy, Professional Keno Player Neil Fontenot, I wrote Tao of Keno in response to TripJax's 21 questions.


And I ended the month with the first two installments of my Born to Gamble series... Part I: Where It All Begins and Part II: Southbound.

That's it for now, stay tuned for Part II of the Year in Review.
posted by Pauly at 12/26/2006 01:25:00 AM | Permalink |

 
Merry Christmas


32 years ago today
Auggie Wren's Christmas Story written by Paul Auster is one of my favorite short stories of all time. Go read it!

And go read Flipchip's poem The Night Before the Poker Room.



The above picture is a Christmas tree Iraqi style taken by Jack, a Tao of Poker reader who happens to be stationed at Camp Slayer in Iraq. My Christmas Wish this year is for all the men and women in the armed forces serving overseas to come home safely.

I want to wish everyone, especially those folks at Camp Slayer, a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.
posted by Pauly at 12/25/2006 04:52:00 AM | Permalink |

 
December Las Vegas Trip: Epilogue

I went the unconventional way and non-linear approach to this year's Vegas trip reports with the Seven Deadly Sins. It seemed like a good idea when I started, but after the third one, I regretted my decision to undertake the trip reports in that manner. Being one not to give up, I gutted through it and finished my rambling dissertation on the darkside of Las Vegas. However, in doing so, I left out plenty of random stories.

Here's a chance for me to mention a those odd things as I flip through my notebook and glance over my notes, which these days are sparse. Usually I'm jotting down a few key words that will help me recall a particular moment. That's why I prefer that hour before I pass out or the first hour when I wake up to quickly ramble on in my own private journal/notes.

So taking a page out of Derek's succinct Hemmingwayesque trip reports, here are actual excerpts from my notes...

Overheard while waiting for the elevators at the IP:

Cowboy 1: "Someone is smoking reefer."
Cowboy 2: "Not me."
Cowboy 1: "And it smells like good shit, too."

After a losing streak, StB banked at my Pai Gow and got burned. He let Mrs. Head play out of his stack and she got a quads and a straight flush which sent him on MPGT (Mega Pai Gow Tilt). After I was cold decked at the same table, I let Change100 play out of my stack and she won $200.

Derek was getting smoked by one Pai Gow dealer. He had hands that should have won, but he seemed to get beat out by a slim margin on dozens of hands. "That's not supposed to happen," the dealer would say about twenty times.

On the way to the Wynn buffet, a group of us walked from the IP including Sweet Sweet Pablo. A pickup trucked jam packed with cowboys headed to the NRF stopped at a red light and taunted Pablo, "Get a haircut! Get a hair cut yaw gawd'ammed hippie!" To which I screamed out, "I can't quit yew!"

I ate Kobe meatballs at the Wynn buffet and ate my dessert halfway instead of waiting until the end. Chilly offered me $50 to eat four sugar packets. I declined.

April (CA) brought her Mom, who was totally cool. She actually hung out with us and thought we were fun.

Kamikazes with Drizz on his birthday at the Geisha Bar. Makers and Ginger with StB at the Pai Gow tables. Shots of SoCo with AlCantHang everywhere. Patron with Kat and Sweet Sweet Pablo at the Geisha Bar and pints of Stella with Human Head at the MGM.

Pauly: "I like Twinkies and little Asian boys?"
Gracie: "You mean little Asian boys who can run fast?"
Pauly: "And Twinkies too."

At the bar behind the poker room at the MGM, Derek walked over to Human Head and myself with a grin on his face and a cigarette dangling from his lip. "I just felted an old guy who didn't have any chips." A guy sat down and played one hand before he the runner brought him chips and Derek felted him in the process. Rebuy!


There were two old guys who looked like Santa dressed up like Santa on the monorail. They were going to the MGM and talked about strip clubs and hookers from Vietnam.

After Michalski's drunken shenanigans at the MGM where he had cleaning rings around his head, we nicknamed his blog Sketcherati.

"Standards have been dropped." - Derek on the behavior of common citizens in Las Vegas

I played Pai Gow with Grubbette at the IP and bluffed Grubby out of a pot in the blogger tournament.

Miami Don gave me a tip about the Celtics and I bet them heavily along with the under in the Pacers/Cavs game. Went 2-0 in Miami Don tips on Saturday. Sunday was a different story and thanks to Vince Young, I stayed stuck.

The Tao of Daddy... "You should probably get what you get."

There were three elevators that led up to my tower at the IP. The far left one was contaminated for a full day after some unlucky fucker blew chunks and puked in there. We'd have to hold our noses when we went in. As we waited to go downstairs, the puke elevator showed up. We were about to take a step inside when another elevator opened up. Out rushed an old cowboy and his wife. Derek, myself, and Pablo ran in about to celebrate and we almost died because the elevator smelled like shit. Seriously. That old man must have busted ass and shit his pants. Something foul must be lurking in his bowels. I never thought that I'd admit to wanting to ride in the puke elevator instead.

"Ladies, my name is Bobby Bracelet and I'm also known as Bobby Beer Goggles. Hear that ladies?" - Bobby Bracelet

I lost a heads up match against Falstaff at the PokerTek thingy. The cheesecake gave me indigestion but I dug the free beer.

"Furgburgers." That's all I had written in my notes. Furburgers.

Explaining Maudie the concept of manscaping particularly to make the penis look larger than it actually is.

The Rooster held court as he gave off his oral sex tips. I thought Maudie was going to explode.

"That wasn't a hooker. That was a homeless person." - Derek to Joe Speaker

I can spot a hooker in Las Vegas with ease. It's really not that hard sometimes. The one we spotted dressed like a working girl so it was obvious. She had the hooker gait and gave off that glassy look as she hobbled through the IP over to the poker room and sat down at a 2/4 Limit table. She had just serviced a client minutes before and tossed a piece of gum in her mouth and as ready to donk off that evening's cock smuggling money. "She's playing with seed money," Derek mentioned.

F Train and I had an interesting discussion about certain bloggers who are notorious for going broke and how many times we've staked those malfortutious bloggers in tournaments on several instances. There were also a few bloggers who had a bad habit of borrowing money from friends and paying the debt late or never returning it. We decided to start a Blogger Debt Consolidation Service. Depending on the blogger there debts would be valued by their ability to pay. We would buy up blogger debts at a premium and sell them on the market. With Bad Blood as our muscle we'd be in pretty good shape. By the way, a SirWaffle marker is worth more than gold.

I finally met Joe Speaker's buddy Dacia aka Betty Underground. She went out to sushi the week before with two friends who happened to be big fans of the Tao of Poker and Obituarium. They were floored when they found out she knew Joe Speaker and was going to Vegas to meet me. To quote one of my favorite lines from Entourage... "I love my fans."

A Tale of Three Pairs of Pocket Aces... In the blogger tourney, my A-A held up against Kat's Q-10 in early action. And just before the break (and end of the rebuy period where I still was eligible for my rebuy) I had A-Ks and called a big raise from Dawn. I flopped a gutshot and a nut flush draw on a board of Qs-Jx-4s. Dawn bet, I moved all in and she quickly called, flipping over A-A. I rivered the 8s to double up. She glared at me as I stacked up her chips. Karma would come back my way, but not in a good way. With A-A I raised in EP and -Ev called. The flop was all rags and all the money went in on the flop. -Ev flopped bottom set with 2-2 and I was fucked. Bounced somewhere in 50ish place, I quickly headed outside for the bar.

Karol goes to Atlantic City like three days a week, but she had never been to Las Vegas before the gathering. She ended up winning a tournament at Stratosphere while Ryan took down the Aladdin tourney.

I played Mrs. Head Roshambo. Joe Speaker backed her and it was a pleasure taking his money. I went for the "I'm going tell you what I'm gonna throw psyche out move" where I'd say, "I'm going rock!" And sure enough, I'd put down rock. That messed with Mrs. Head as I got inside her head and sent her on MRT (Mega Roshambo Tilt). Ridiculous prop bets were one of the few areas I actually cleaned up in, even though F Train refused to play "High card out of the muck for $20" with me. Bastard.

After the last Sunday afternoon game, the bar at the Sports Book had a 2 for 1 drink special for two (or three?) hours. That's what did us in on Sunday. We had been drinking since 10am and then they offer us twofers? Are you shitting me?

At one point I was stuck almost 3K. The actual number was under 2700 by the time I left Vegas and I did nail a bet on the Lakers which pulled me to about 2K in losses for the weekend. I also gobbled up an entire bottle of Motrin.

I had an amazing conversation with DrChako. He told me about his upcoming deployment to Iraq and told me a great deal about his daily life. Glad he was able to make it.

I also was fortunate to finally meet Gary. He was older than I expected and a dead ringer for Greg Allman. The guy was a machine and did not sleep and lived off of cigarettes and beer all weekend. He offered to take me fishing.

Maudie showed us her cool tattoo:


Jim from Ireland was a nice fit with the gang. He went deep in the tournament and bought me several drinks. He and Garth got into a hilarious verbal spat that reminded me of a bad SNL skit where a drunk Australian and a drunk Irishman playfully hurled ethnic insults back and forth to one another.

On Sunday night, I ate dinner with Derek and on_thg. It was close to 10 or 11pm. Derek and on_thg both just got up from naps so they were technically eating their breakfast. I ordered a banana split.

ABC. Always Be Closing.

That's all I have for now. Sorry that I had to rush this post. Of course the best memories are the ones that I can't fully conjur up into concrete sentences and those are the moments that will keep me warm on cold nights and make me chuckle at random points in the future. Some things in life should be experienced for yourself. And this gathering was one of them. They really are what you make of them. If you want to get wasted, there are folks who will do that. If you want to throw dice... you'll find a few to do the same. Poker? Tournaments? Fine dining? There's someone in the group who has a similar game plan in mind.

I wasn't bullshitting when I said this was my favorite get together since the first one. The ones in June are tough because I have to work the WSOP and don't get to have as much fun. That's why I dig the December ones. I guess with the cowboys in town it makes for an interesting mix.

As always, I'm fortunate that I've crossed paths with so many of you. And I'm lucky to consider many of you very close friends. That's why a weekend like the one we had is important to me since we all live very far apart and don't get to see each other. I know many of us went to this gathering knowing that it could very well be the last one. The future of poker and the bloggers is uncertain. And I never know where I'll be a few months from now. I'm glad we soaked up every possible moment to celebrate our friendship.
posted by Pauly at 12/24/2006 10:58:00 PM | Permalink |

 
Seven Part V: Pride

The Seven Deadly Sins and Las Vegas Series continues with the final chapter. The other installments include... Part I: Lust and Gluttony... Part II: Wrath... Part III: Greed & Sloth... and Part IV: Envy.

* * * * *
Pride

In almost every list Pride is considered the original or most serious sin, and the ultimate source of all other sins. It is identified as a desire to be more important or attractive to others, failing to give credit due to others, or excessive love of self (especially holding self out of proper position toward God). Dante's definition was "love of self perverted to hatred and contempt for one's neighbor." In Jacob Bidermann's medieval miracle play, Cenodoxus, Pride is the deadliest of all the sins and leads directly to the damnation of the famed Doctor of Paris, Cenodoxus. Pride was what sparked the fall of Lucifer from Heaven, and his subsequent transformation into Satan. Vanity and Narcissism are good examples of these sins, though both imply a more empty feeling of Pride, with little to back it up. In the Divine Comedy, the penitent were forced to walk with their heads bowed while they were whipped in order to induce feelings of humility.

"Fuck pride!" Marsellus Wallace said in Pulp Fiction.

I wanted to get unstuck and Pride was fucking me in another one of those abusive relationships. Pride is a fickle thing. There's a fine line between being confident in who you are and crossing that line and acting like a narcissistic baboon. Pride is the root of all assholes on the planet. Pride is what prevents you from admitting you made a mistake. Pride is what makes you belittle the short comings of others in order to make you feel better about yourself.

My most embarrassing moments happen to occur when several of the deadly sins are dancing and cajoling the guy inside my head who calls most of the shots. Pride is the ring leader and parades Gluttony and Greed and Lust in front of me like scantily clad nubile lingerie models. It's impossible to look away and I'm immediately distracted. And when I'm paying the least attention to life, Pride takes control and things start falling apart.

I wanted to get unstuck, but I couldn't accept defeat and walk away a loser. Instead of a small loss, I chased and my losses grew bigger and bigger. Pai Gow? Loser. Craps? Loser. NBA? Loser. NFL? Loser. The hole got deeper and my mood got darker. I became pathetic character in a Raymond Carver short story... somber, desperate, and intense.

Pride was making me chase my losses when at best under optimal conditions, I was a long shot to break even. I hadn't slept well in days. My mind was frazzled. I had been drinking an increased amount than I normally do when I gamble (to ease the pain of the heavy losses). And my decision making abilities were clouded due to Severe Mega Pai Gow Tilt (SMPGT). I was lucky enough to make it out of Las Vegas alive without having to dig into my poker bankroll to cover my losses in the pit and at the sports book.

"You wanted to lose so you bet on the Rams against the Bears," Change100 said in a hushed tone.

"I love home dogs, especially on Monday Night Football," I blurted out trying to justify my losing pick.

I sounded like the poor guy who bet on the Washington Generals every night they played the Harlem Globetrotters. I was pissed at her because she was right. Where the fuck were you when I made the pick to try to get unstuck?

Sometimes you do the wrong thing even though you know fully that you're about to do the wrong thing. Yet you do it anyway. Gambler's suicide. It happens every hour on the hour in Las Vegas, synched up to the Bellagio Fountains. Everytime the fountains spew water thirty stories into the air, a gambler somewhere on the Strip decides to end their misery. They "go for broke" and bet it all on the Pass Line. They push all in with a questionable hand. They toss the rest of their redbirds on one last hand of Pai Gow. The bet it all on the Rams. They know the result before they made it. They were born to lose that day and wanted to end the slow torture.

No wonder that more people come to Las Vegas commit suicide than any other city. I think the other one is San Francisco, so people could jump off the Golden Gate Bridge. There are no big bridges to jump off of in Las Vegas but there's plenty of other ways to kill yourself under the bright lights. Most fugitives end up in Las Vegas on one final bender before they get caught and go to jail. Vegas was where the Ohio highway sniper ended up before he was caught by the federalies at a sister property of the Redneck Riviera if you can believe that.

America's most desperate souls flock to Las Vegas for one final bender before they off themselves in one of those no-tell motels in North Las Vegas with a vague suicide note written on the back of a $10 off coupon to the Thunder from Down Under. Or how about the tenebrous souls who spiral into a fit of morbid depression and jump out of the Excalibur? Those are the stories that get covered up the most... the suicides on the Strip. The powers to be don't want you to know that someone either did a drug deal, nailed a hooker on the bed spread, or tried to kill themselves in your $79 room with a Strip View.

We call it Sin City, but like the fallen angels who left God's side eons ago, they encircle the city and prey on the weak. They whisper words encouraging deviant behavior to you while you sleep and the city that you thought would be the place to fulfill your dreams is nothing more than a mirage in the dessert with an all you can eat buffet that crushes your dreams after getting your Aces cracked by Jack-Shit.

Las Vegas is a sham, a fabricated city and nothing more than an adult Disneyland with single deck blackjack and $300 hookers. Part of the charm is that we know it's a rouse, but like Hunter Thompson said, "Buy a ticket. Take the ride."

We know we're supposed to go to Vegas and do things we normally wouldn't do in our 9 to 5 lives. If you were playing cards with a guy who just got released from prison while drinking at 10am on a Wednesday... without a doubt, your wife would divorce you and your boss would fire you on the spot. In Vegas, that's the least weird behavior you're going to see that day.

That's what's supposed to be the allure about Las Vegas that the mobsters who started the town envisioned it to be... a place in the middle of nowhere away from the cops and the federalies where they could drink, gamble, fuck, and have a good time without anyone breaking up the party.

The suits took it over and turned it into a shopping mall with slot machines. Thank God for the hookers. At least they give Las Vegas a semblance of purity.

It's when you lose sight of what Vegas is supposed to be about and project other romantic and unrealistic notions that the dark side sets in because you were not prepared for it blindside you. You're supposed to go to Las Vegas and lose money and drink too much and do stupid shit. And if you win some money in the process.... then that's awesome because you got paid for your degenerate behavior.

It's when Vegas doesn't meet your expectations that Pride sets in and ruins the trip. Instead of surrendering to the flow of Las Vegas, you fight the fallen angels. You flirt with the deadly sins. And that's when the town turns you on your head and you wake up at odd hours clutching the porcelain god wondering where it all went wrong.

Las Vegas owes you nothing. You flew into town with your sole purpose to use Las Vegas perhaps looking for a quick score and a shortcut to financial success. You wanted to get laid, get fucked up, and totally use and abuse anything in your path including the locals, the other tourists, and the casinos itself.

And when Vegas kicks your ass, takes all your money, and puts you in your place... you can't get pissed. You can't sue Las Vegas. You were dumb enough to tackle on the darkside of human nature and lost. Man loses against nature every time they go to battle. What makes Las Vegas and you any different?

Pride makes you think you can beat The House. Pride lulls you into a false sense of security that your poker acumen far outweighs the short term luck that seems to be wedged up the assholes of the luckboxes on the Strip who suck out flush after flush on the river. Pride makes you think that you can move to Las Vegas and tame the wild beast by going pro. Eventually your pride gets you in enough trouble that you put that ugly fucker to sleep and you get your shit together and leave town.

Las Vegas is an awesome place to party, but it's one hellacious of a town to live in.
posted by Pauly at 12/22/2006 04:54:00 PM | Permalink |

 
CC's Thursday's Bash


CC is hosting his final event of his series CC's Thursday's Bash tonight at 9:30pm on PokerStars. See pic for password info and more details.

Update: I bubbled off the final table but managed to take down first place overall. Thanks again to CC for hosting and for Poker Works adding cash to the prize pools. I went out and celebrated the win with Derek, F Train, and the Rooster. We got hammered and ended up crashing Ethan Hawke's Christmas party by accident. We also got kicked out soon after showing up. Stop by the Tao of Pauly to read Merry Ethan after my hangover subsides.
posted by Pauly at 12/21/2006 03:28:00 PM | Permalink |

 
Seven Part IV: Envy

The Seven Deadly Sins and Las Vegas Series continues with Part IV. The other installments include... Part I: Lust and Gluttony... Part II: Wrath... and Part III: Greed & Sloth. The final chapter will apear soon.

* * * * *
Envy

Like Greed, Envy is characterized by an insatiable desire, however the two sins differ for two main reasons. Firstly, Greed is normally associated with material wealth, whereas Envy can apply to other concepts, like love or success. Secondly, those who commit the sin of Envy desire something that someone else has. Dante defined this as "love of one's own good perverted to a desire to deprive other men of theirs." In Dante's Purgatory, the envious have their eyes sewn shut with wire, because they have gained sinful pleasure from seeing others brought low.

Over the long term, I'd rather be good than lucky. But over the short term, particularly on a weekend in Las Vegas, I'd take ephemeral luck over skill or competence in a heartbeat. Las Vegas can be frustrating because you see complete jackoffs walking away with huge sums of cash. Some have stacks of black chips that they're spilling on their way to the cage that they scored after a hot run at the black jack tables. Or the push monkeys that bad beated their way to poker tournaments with hyper-accelerating blinds that are throwing a rubber band over a wad of Benjamins. Or the chain-smoking blue haired octogenarians that pocketed $30K on a single slot pull.

I want their money. I want those intoxicating looks on their faces. I want their luck. Badly.

Just take a walk down the Strip on any random week night at 2am and you'll see the hiccups of modern society dodging the porn slappers and filtering into the IP at odd hours to gamble their dreams away like an overzealous rookie bluffing off half his stack with a gutshot that never fills in.

The capitalist pigs of big business prey on your envious ways. The majority of good citizens like you and me are insecure about some aspect of our lives, which makes us easy prey for marketing. Turn on the TV and watch a few commercials and you'll see that if you are not already insecure, The Man will do anything possible to make you feel like shit so you will go out and buy their product to make you feel better.

Feel like a crappy husband? Buy diamonds. Losing your hair? Buy this drug. Can't get it up? Pop this penis pill. Have a small penis? Buy this Hummer. Want to hide those homosexual tendencies? Drink this beer.

But if there was a product to increase your luck, I'd be the first person in line to buy it. Cyndy Violette has her lucky stones and I'm very close to asking her where I could score some lucky rocks. I've done everything possible to attract good luck. Nothing. I avoided $50 bills. I avoided a few bloggers who have been known to have "Cooler" abilities. I gave money to homeless people on the subway the last time I was in NYC. I adopted fourteen Malawian children and even backed one of those wastrels on PokerStars sweating my table begging for $5. I said the Our Father in Latin before every Pai Gow deal. I even sacrificed three virgins in The Rooster's room with a Haitian witch doctor sitting in the corner drinking Wild Turkey. And I still got fucking cold decked by those demagogues in Hawaiian shirts at the Pai Gow tables.

I know why I'm prone to fits of crappy luck at the tables... it's the karmic balance of all things in my life. At any given time, there has to be at least one thing completely fucked up going on with regard to my career, family, friends, relationships, health, finances, and my personal self. When most of those things are flowing smoothly, the powers to be decide to fuck me at the tables. It's a Philip K. Dickian struggle between good and evil as I develop a paranoia that everyone in the gambling industry is conspiring to get all of my money. I think the origin of my psychotic paranoia was all of those bad things I said about Harrah's during the WSOP. Sometimes those suits will go to the extremes to make field goal kickers with lots of vowels in their names miss chip shots so I lose my bet at Caesar's sportsbook or they set up cold decks at the Pai Gow tables at the IP just to drive me insane.

How else can I explain my horrible run of bad luck? Was it just a coincidence that guys with 2-2 flopped a deuce against my Pocket Aces. Or when I had a straight and Kings up in Pai Gow, the dealer miraculously has a higher straight and A-A?

There something called the Envy Bonus in Pai Gow and for $5 you're gambling that someone at the table is going to hit a bonus hand. Grubette is a staunch proponent of betting the Fortune Bonus at the Pai Gow tables, so much so that she gets visibly upset if you don't play the bonus. She'll furiously tap the table and question your manhood until you throw your $1 chips into the circle. F Train and I refused to give in and that set Grubette on Fortune Pai Gow Bonus Tilt. She had to get up and walk off the steam spewing out of her ears.

The best cure for envy is to repeat that stupid fucking ubiquitous mantra that's been repeating itself in my head continuously since 1986.

"The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence."

I knew some hippies from my Seattle days that used to say, "The grass is always better, when you smoke your neighbors' grass."

The "grass is always greener" mantra is about understanding that there no absolute perfect place or moment in life and that if you examine everything you will find some faults and come to the conclusion that the alternative is better. Sure sometimes it is, but the entire point of the saying is accepting the Zen philosophy of being in the moment.

That reminds me of an old saying from Lao Tzu, "To not want is to be."

By eliminating desire, you have a better chance at living completely in the moment. To think about having other things (material or non-material) makes you lose focus on the now and instead of living in the present.

Being able to live in the moment in Las Vegas became impossible for me when my mind started drifting and I began desiring the luck of the other gamblers. I was soon coveting my neighbor's wife and my neighbor's oxen. I wanted that winning hand. I wanted to be betting on the winning team. I wanted to be betting on anything that won. The number 23 at craps. The under in the Suns/Bobcats game. Anything.

I knew it got ugly when I was offering to shoot Odds or Evens with F Train in the lobby of the IP. I didn't think it was possible, but I fucked that up too. It was 33% less difficult that Roshambo. I had to only pick one of two numbers. Cold decked in Odds and Evens.

Humiliated, I peeled a bill out of my diminishing bankroll and paid my debt to F Train. My bankroll used to look like Fat Elvis. At that point, it looked like the ever disappearing Nicole Ritchie.

When people in recovery talk about the moment they decided to turn it all around, they speak about the flashpoint where you hit rock bottom. I had been at that destination too many times before in life. Like a bus station in the middle of nowhere that smells like cat piss and desperation, you know you've been dropped on Death's doorstep and only you can find your way back. It's when you having nothing left to cling to... that's when you decide to take the first step and improve yourself.

That's why I understand how people quickly trade addictions and find religion or God or spirituality after dabbling in booze, gambling, drugs, sex, and capitalism. As humans, we need to get off for one reason or another. Either it's for excitement or to dull the pain, whatever the root of the problem... it's there. That thirst has made many men and women wealthy. Depravity and decadence is profitable. And as long as there's that urge... that want... that desire... a place like Las Vegas will always make money.

I finally got my shit together when I realized that I envied those lucky folks who were at the airport ready to get on flights to go home. I don't have a home per se, but I wanted to get the hell out of Las Vegas before I lost any more of my money, my hair, and my sanity.


... to be continued.
posted by Pauly at 12/20/2006 10:43:00 PM | Permalink |

 
I Will Fly One Day: The Brandi Hawbaker Story

I gotta say something. Capt. Tom's penis? Are you shitting me?

Iggy wrote about the infamous 2+2 thread. Over the weekend I started getting random emails from people asking me about Brandi and if I knew the URL of her blog and what the deal was with her and Capt. Tom's penis. What the fuck?

Just when I thought I was completely bored with poker, this nugget falls out of the sky like that coke bottle in The God Must Be Crazy. We've been knocked on the head with a message from the poker gods. There's a behind the scenes freakfest going on that even I couldn't make up if I was locked in a hotel room for three straight days and fed half a sheet of blotter while Wagner's Ride the Valkyries blasted on the stereo. I mean... you can't make shit up like this. Or can you?

The WPT crew should stop filming the tournament at the Bellagio and should follow around Brandi, Capt. Penis, and Dutch Boyd for the rest of the month. That maelstrom of drama is better than The Real World, The OC, and Survivor all rolled into one. In the last 40 hours, the masses have been entertained with the thread of the year on 2+2 and possibly of the century. Tournaments are passe. Poker reality shows are the future.

Everyone's involved. Trust no one. WPT Champions. WSOP Bracelet winners. Anal sex. Bathroom meltdowns. Dutch Boyd. Missing passports. Late night penis to back action. Nervous breakdowns. Texas Dolly. Shaniac?

It's a Hollyweird wet dream and I've already written forty pages of a spec screenplay which I've tentatively titled I Will Fly One Day. It's got Oscar written all over it. Drugs. Sex. Dutch Boyd. What more can you ask for? It's better than a late night Skinemax flick. It's like The Bell Jar meets Rounders. It's like Prozac Nation meets The Big Deal. I'm already talking to Claire Danes people and we're working out a film deal as we speak.

I got get back to work, but thanks again to Iggy for pointing out the Never Trust Anyone thread.

And the dudes over at NeverWinPoker have posted a couple of NSFW photos of Brandi, just in case you dig nipple shots.
posted by Pauly at 12/19/2006 12:37:00 AM | Permalink |

 
Seven Part III: Greed & Sloth

The Seven Deadly Sins and Las Vegas Series continues with Part III. You can read Part I: Lust and Gluttony and Part II: Wrath. The last installment will appear on Wednesday.

* * * * *
Greed

Greed is, like Lust and Gluttony, a sin of excess. However, Greed particularly applies to the acquisition of wealth. Thomas Aquinas wrote that Greed was "a sin against God, just as all mortal sins, in as much as man condemns things eternal for the sake of temporal things." In Dane's Purgatory, the penitent were forced to kneel on hard stone and recite the examples of avarice and its opposing virtue. Avarice is a blanket term that can describe many other forms of sinful behavior. These include disloyalty, deliberate betrayal, or treason, especially for personal gain, as when someone lets themselves be bribed. Scavenging and hoarding of materials or objects, theft and robbery, especially by violence, trickery, skulldugery or manipulation of authority are all actions that are inspired by greed. Such misdeeds include Simony, where the sinner feels the urge to make money by selling things within the confines of the church.

I wouldn't be in Las Vegas if I didn't want to win money.

I didn't go to Las Vegas to act like an angel and a good Catholic. I went to gamble and raise hell. And as the pussification of America is slowly happening before our eyes, Las Vegas one of the few places on the planet you can still go and get yer rocks knocked without the self-righteous nitwits raining down sanctimonious barbs at you, while you let loose on a gold old fashioned bender.

The millions of visitors who fly into Vegas every year from around the globe to unleash their inner deviant moments after touchdown at McCarran Airport. And part of that degenerate behavior is a psychological urge to win money. Lots of it. And the sinister fuckers in Vegas even plotted to have slot machines in the airport. And why? To get every last cent out of you before you leave town because anyone who's stuck will tell you they're itching to get unstuck and will gamble on almost anything. Hence the rows of slots at the airport.

Money is the root of all evil and I-15 to Las Vegas is also known as Greed Freeway. No one drives to Las Vegas with thoughts of leaving Sin City a loser. Everyone thinks about the cash they are going to win. About walking to the cage with a security escort and racks and racks of chips. About walking around with enough money in your pocket to buy a brand new car. About raking in that monster pot in a juicy NL cash game...

Nobody thinks about losing. Even when we're losing, we're thinking about winning. They got you by the balls in Las Vegas. You're either pressing a win or chasing a loss. Regardless, you're gambling and playing with house money or digging deep into your pockets and sheepishly pulling out rent money to get unstuck. You can't help yourself. Greed is too strong to overcome for weak minded individuals.

"I'll bank," Maigrey announced to the dealer.

"This game is called 'Take Maigrey's Money'," I joked to the rest of the players at the Pai Gow table as I counted out my remaining chips.

Normally I don't like taking friends money. I shouldn't say that I don't like it. Money is money. But I feel a tinge of remorse when I know I won a big pot off a friend. And in that instance, I was chasing a loss at the Pai Gow tables. I had to get unstuck and it didn't matter to me that I'd be winning Maigrey's money or the IP's money. The greed clouded my judgment. I should have walked away and came back after I calmed myself down. I didn't and the slide continued.

Greed is a powerful entity capable of taking over all of your decision making processes along with denying yourself sleep, food, and relaxation. I was not content with the status quo. Being in Vegas with friends and having a good time gambling was not sufficient for me. I needed more. I needed a win. A nice score. A big hand. Something positive. Anything. Desperation set in and the only moments I felt any stimulation was when I won something. And the more infrequent that happened, the more numb I became to the rest of reality.

I was losing. I was conscious of losing. And I didn't care.

I became an accomplice in my own downfall as I spiraled into the darkside of Las Vegas where hopes and dreams cease to exist and your soul is quickly nibbled on by the voracious gambling demons who love to feast on fresh meat.

"A push is a win!" Maigrey yelled to the table.

They were all happy to push in Pai Gow. Not me. I needed to get unstuck. To me, a push was a loss. I didn't get off on a push. Like Lou Reed desiring that spike in his veins, I needed the rush and excitement of a win to get me out of that mud pit infested with the rest of Las Vegas losers. Like a pestilence on this land, the Losers were easy to spot. Their soulless bodies wandered through the casinos, with their negative auras howling at you as they trudged past you at 3am with the 100-yard gambler's stare and look right through you with their mind focused on one thing... getting enough money to help get them unstuck.

The Las Vegas valley is inhabited by over a hundred thousand of those zombies. Some of them are jacked up on crank just to help get them through the 72 hour gambling binges, when people's paychecks and dreams evaporate under the scorching Nevada sun. The rest of them are awake on the Loser's Adrenaline. Or what casino suits describe as "degenerate behavior that pays our salaries."

Winning at poker is easy for me. But it takes a lot longer. Blackjack is instant. As is craps. Sports betting is a two or three hour sustained high and if the game is close and you come out a winner, the high is better than cocaine and heroin combined.

That's why overtime games cause more heart attacks in gamblers than any other illness. Nothing is worse than having your team cough up a double digit lead in the four quarter while some flunky journeyman who couldn't even put on jockstrap correctly three weeks earlier is all of a sudden playing out of his tits like an all star and destroying your hopes at getting unstuck. In three weeks, his pro career is over and he'll be back to bagging groceries at the Safeway in Renton, but the damage has been done. He came off the bench and dropped 20 points in the 4th quarter as I lost yet another game at the buzzer as the worst case scenario quickly became my reality.

There are at least a dozen or so names on my Sportsbook shitlist. Those are guys that if I ever meet in real life, I'm gonna kick them swift in the junk.

Whack! "That's for missing the back end of a one-and-one and not covering against Old Dominion in the 2005 NCAA tournament, fucktard!"

Crunch! "That's for missing that field goal against the Vikings in the playoffs and costing me $500, you fucking burro!'

Stomp! "You assclown! Why did you throw that interception in the endzone of the Sugar Bowl when you could have thrown it away?"

I should know better than to bet large sums of money on horses (animals injected with speed) and pro athletes (humans imjected with animal growth hormones), when I know myself at the poker table is the best bet in town. Yet, I do it anyway and bet on -EV games. Because I'm an action junkie. And I'm greedy.

Live poker is so fucking slow sometimes and I usually get stuck next to a drunk idiot with bad breath who won't stop fucking bragging about how great of a poker player he is, or I'm stuck next to the most dreary person on the planet who incessantly prattles on about bad beat after bad beat so much so that I want to slit my wrists right at the table in a public display of total agony.

If I could two-table live poker, I'd have more fun running back and forth between tables, elbowing waitresses and banging into other degenerate junkies who are also two-tabling it in the same poker room. But with my luck, I'd get stuck to the smelly guy at both tables or the potential serial killer in Seat 3 who keeps wiping his snot on his chips.

I wish I could find a way to stop and stand up to Greed. I get plenty of opportunities to walk away, but like my prayers to God to help get me unstuck... they go ignored.

* * * * *
Sloth

More than other sins, the definition of Sloth has changed considerably since its original inclusion in the list. It has been characterized as what modern thinkers would describe as apathy, depression, and joylessness - the latter being considered a refusal to enjoy the goodness of God and the world he created. Originally, its place was fulfilled by two others, Acedia and Sadness. The former described a spiritual apathy that affected the faithful by discouraging them from their religious work. Sadness (tristitia in Latin) described a feeling of dissatisfaction or discontent, which caused unhappiness with their current situation. When Aquinas selected Acedia for his list, he described it as an "uneasiness of the mind," being a progenitor for lesser sins such as restlessness and instability. Dante built on this definition, describing Sloth as being the "failure to love God with all one's heart, all one's mind and all one's soul." He also describes it as the middle sin, and as such is the only sin characterized by an absence or insufficiency of love. Modern interpretations differ from either of these, and portray Sloth as being simply a sin of laziness, of an unwillingness to act, and of an unwillingness to care. For this reason Sloth is now often seen as being considerably less serious than the other sins.

My inherent laziness creates more problems than anything else. My laziness occurs the most when it comes with dealing with the other six sins. Every sin that I commit is coupled with laziness and sloth, which means I'm constantly committing double sins. If I wasn't so lazy, I'd get off my ass and do something about my greedy and lustful nature. But I have too much fun appealing to my inner Hedonist. Like a corrupt beat cop on the take, I look the other way.

Sloth is a terrible disease. The casinos profit on your laziness and want you to stay on their property so much so that they'll give you free stuff and cheap food on site so you don't wander off into another casino and donk off your bonus check at their table games.

Because you were too lazy to walk across the street and play at a different casino, your sloth has made Steve Wynn a wealthy man, so much so that he didn't even sneeze at dropping $700 million to build a new casino in Macau. That seems like a fair trade... you get a cheap buffet and free towels and Steve Wynn gets another brand new casino.

Of course, the worst trait of sloth is the unwillingness to change my behavior when I'm in Las Vegas. It's easier to surrender to the flow than to fight the tough fight and stand up to the other psychological liabilities that I tend to experience during stints in Las Vegas. My lazy nature to address my problems paralyzes my ability to rationally think. That's why I stay unstuck.

The worst episode of sloth that I've ever heard in Las Vegas had to be the story that Grubby told me where he sat down at a slot machine and discovered that the seat was drenched in urine. The previous occupant was so lazy and glued to the slot machine that they'd rather suffer from utter public humiliation and piss their pants than rather stand up and take a bathroom break.

That's an ugly and smelly secret that the Vegas casinos don't want you to know... that at any given time, hundreds of seats at various slot machines in Las Vegas are covered in urine by addicted gamblers who ignored their bladders and pissed in their pants in order to keep on gambling. Urine junkies. And if you know people are urinating on themselves, a few unlucky fuckers are shitting their pants while waiting for a Mr. Cashman bonus round.

At the same time, those stories are hysterical and sad. But that's the harsh reality that you don't get to see under the bright lights of the Strip, where dozens of shameless addicted gamblers are currently sitting in warm pools of their own urine.


... to be continued.
posted by Pauly at 12/18/2006 01:16:00 AM | Permalink |

 
Sunday Pimp

A couple of friends are busy covering two big tournaments. Check out:

1. Flipchip's coverage and Bellagio Five Diamond Classic photos.
2. Spaceman's coverage of the WSOP Circuit event in AC.

And yes, I'll be ending my tournament hiatus and going down under in 17 days to cover the 2007 Aussie Millions.
posted by Pauly at 12/17/2006 08:54:00 PM | Permalink |

 
Truckin - December 2006, Vol. 6, Issue 12

1. 12 by Paul McGuire
"Hey, let's go to ten hash bars today." Nicky shrugged her shoulders and motioned, "OK." I didn't think we'd actually do it and when the night was over, we'd go to twelve in all. Twelve hash bars in twelve hours? I'm glad I did that because records are meant to be broken... More

2. Zippers Come Undone in Vegas by Grubby
At the club, Maya chatted me up. She said she'd moved from Fremont, CA, and has been living with her mother for three weeks. She's been working at Rhino for half that. I believed all of it... More

3. Fugue in Geek Minor By Falstaff
I had torn off down to New Orleans for Fall Break, gotten drunk at Wet Willie's, pissed in a public park under a streetlight and gotten front row seats at Big Daddy's Topless & Bottomless, where a Eurasian chick with a black pageboy cut and three tattoos did things to Jason's hat that made him swear he would never do laundry again... More

4. The Man John Never Knew by Nick Cantwell
John spent all day with one eye on the latest share prices, and his other eye fixed on the neighbourhood - and when his job became second nature to him, it was this other eye that he found much more captivating... More

5. Grounded by Sean A. Donahue
I just wanted to rest. But Dad would have none of it, from the yard work being done to taking me out to lunch, we did everything but sleep... More

Welcome back to another issue of Truckin'. The December and final issue of 2006 features the return of Grubby with a hilarious gem about a recent trip to Las Vegas. Fellow bloggers Sean A. Donahue and Falstaff are back. I Also penned 12, which is a recap of twelve different hashbars that I visted one day in Amsterdam. And I'm happy to introduce a new writer and fellow poker blogger from the mix, Nick Cantwell from London.

If you like these stories, then please do me and the rest of the writers a huge favor: Tell your friends about your favorite stories. It takes a few seconds to pass along the URL. I certainly appreciate your support. Feel free to shoot me an e-mail if you know anyone who is interested in being added to the mailing list or writing for a future issue.
posted by Pauly at 12/17/2006 02:05:00 AM | Permalink |

 
Derek's Vegas Trip Report

By the way, you have to go read my brother's Las Vegas trip report. It's one of the best I've ever read. You can find out how he managed to smoke 15 packs of cigarettes and get only a few hours of sleep. Enjoy!
posted by Pauly at 12/15/2006 02:31:00 AM | Permalink |

 
Seven Part II: Wrath

The non-linear Las Vegas trip reports continue...

Wrath

Inappropriate feelings of hatred and anger. Denial of the truth, both to others and in the form of self-denial. Impatience with the law, or seeking revenge outside of justice, such as with unnecessary vigilantism. Wishing to do evil or harm to others. A modern definition would also include anger towards others for no good reason, such as their race or religion, leading to discrimination. 'Minor' sins born of Wrath are some of the most serious, including murder, assault, discrimination, and genocide. Wrath is the only sin not associated with selfishness or self interest. Dante described Wrath as "love of justice perverted to revenge and spite."

I was pissed off after I got stuck 1K. I was once told it's "better to be pissed off than pissed on." But that mantra could not change the mean streak that illuminated my eyes as I grew increasingly more livid when my putrid gambling losses rose over 2K.

"I gotta get unstuck."

Nothing is worse in Las Vegas than desperately jumping into the deep end of the abyss while trying to chase a loss at a -EV game... by playing more -EV games. Behavior like that is what makes casinos super profitable and allows guys like Steve Wynn to punch holes into a $139 million Picasso painting without blinking an eye.

I fell victim to my own weaknesses of greed as I lost self-control. The pit games sucked the life out of my bone marrow and crushed my soul like a bug's ass going through his brains on a windshield at 85 mph on a California freeway.

"Greed is good," echoed the sentiments of Gordon Gekko from Wall Street, my favorite movie of all time.

Greed might be good, but it makes you do horrible things underneath the bright lights of Las Vegas. Once its spell has been cast, you have no other choice than to ride out the poison as it rushes through your veins. The true darkside of human nature is just once impulsive act away from distinguishing a story from being a comedy or a tragedy. In my case, it started out a comedy than took the wrong turn.

"I gotta get unstuck."

Dawn witnessed the darkside. I unleashed it at 2am early Monday morning. The beast had been lurking in the shadows until I snapped and all the frustration and anger spewed out of me. I had been drinking excessively. My gambling losses were racing towards 3K. I lost control.

Dawn described it as:

I then watched Pauly go on extreme Pauly tilt and threaten to beat Snail Trax in the face for talking about him behind his back.
"But we did it right here. Where you could hear us. And we're just trying to cheer you up."
Pauly was having none of it and slammed his remaining stack of red chips and his single gray chip into the betting circle.
"Going for broke, eh?" F-train commented looking at Pauly.
Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. I said a light bulb illuminating over my head.
"HA! Wow, I totally just now got that saying." I said.
F-train laughed.
Pauly pushed.
And? A push is a win! Win-Gow!
F-train went on tilt cause when Pauly went all-in, he was gonna go all-in, but it was too late... and since he won his hand, he would have gotten the Doble.

Yeah, Daddy and Change100 wee trying to figure out a way to cheer me up. And anyone who's been stuck knows that there's only one way to feel better... and that's getting unstuck.

The run got so ugly that I pissed away $500 at a $15 Pai Gow Table inside of an hour. What the fuck? That was today's Tao of Poker's What the Fuck Moment? Talk about getting cold decked. One female dealer from Korea smacked me around so much that I forgot how to play the game for a few minutes as I blankly stared at my hand, caught in a haze of Pai Gow amnesia.

At one point I was betting almost $100 on a single hand and lost all semblance of discipline. I had a Zen-like moment as I glimpsed into Otis mind for a few moments during his tumultuous run at the Pai Gow tables at the Gold Coast this past summer where he was betting $800 on a single hand.

"I gotta get unstuck!" I screamed at the dealer... at the cocktail waitress... at my brother... at anyone.

Shortstacked, I moved all-in four times in a row at the Pai Gow table. I chopped once and won three other times. I went from short-stack to a decent stack but promptly donked it off in true fashion. I woke up wearing the prototypical "Las Vegas Loser" shirt that day and my anemic poor luck lingered with me all day like an atrocious case of the clap. Yes, I was stuck so badly my penis hurt every time I had to go pee. I was bleeding so much cash at that point, I would piss Twenty dollar bills into the urinal.

The NFL games on Sunday killed me. Killed. Me. I started out hot after nailing two picks from Miami Don and then the action went spiraling out of control. I lost the next two big bets by close margins. Vince Young scored a TD in over time which sent me on mega-tilt for the rest of the trip. That would become the flashpoint for a mudslide of loses. Craps. Pai Gow. NFL. NBA. Prop bets. Ugliness.

I felt like Philip Seymour Hoffman in Owning Mahoney. My descent into degenerate madness was disturbing. Haunting. Chilling. Adding liquor to the mix kept the inferno raging as every one hundred dollar bill in my wallet slowly evaporated. I keep my gambling money separate from my bankroll and I was tempted to start peeling Benjamins off of my poker roll to help get unstuck.

"I gotta get unstuck."

That's what Sunday and Monday Night football are for. Those are the two most heavily bet games in Las Vegas. Why? Because degenerates like me have to get unstuck. But they don't and that's how people lose their spouses, houses, jobs, cars, and their dignity.

Maybe I really want to lose? Losing gives me something to get angry about. I had been in a relatively good mood the last few months. Maybe I'm addicted to anger, which often gets me fired up.

I'd eventually drive out of Las Vegas back to Hollyweird uttering those exact words, "I gotta get unstuck. Thank god for bookies."

Grubby and I have often talked about addiction and greed and the psychology of becoming addicted to losing. We both agreed that nothing sums that up better than what Dan Gilroy wrote in Two for the Money when Al Pacino's character crashes a Gamblers Anonymous meeting and gives the following soliloquy:

You're a lemon. Like a bad car. There is something... there is something inherently defective in you, and you, and you, and me, and all of us. We're all lemons. We look like everyone else, but what makes us different is our defect. See, most gamblers, when they go to gamble, they go to win. When we go to gamble, we go to lose. Subconsciously. Me, I never feel better than when they're raking the chips away; not bringing them in. And everyone here knows what I'm talking about. Hell, even when we win it's just a matter of time before we give it all back. But when we lose, that's another story. When we lose, and I'm talking about the kind of loss that makes your asshole pucker to the size of a decimal point - you know what I mean - You've just recreated the worst possible nightmare this side of malignant cancer, for the twentieth goddamn time; and you're standing there and you suddenly realize, Hey, I'm still... here. I'm still breathing. I'm still alive. Us lemons, we fuck shit up all the time on purpose. Because we constantly need to remind ourselves we're alive. Gambling's not your problem. It's this fucked up need to feel something. To convince yourself you exist. That's the problem.

You know, the best part of the best drug in the world isn't the high. It's the moment just before you take it. The dice are dancing on the table. Between now and the time they stop, that's the greatest high in the world.

... to be continued.
posted by Pauly at 12/15/2006 02:12:00 AM | Permalink |

 
Seven, Part I: Lust and Gluttony

There was something peculiar about this gathering of the tribes. Maybe it was the fact that the majority of bloggers have attended and experienced more than two or maybe the planets were aligned in such a way that it added an extra layer of weirdness to the last few days.

Regardless of the cosmic influences on everyone's aberrant behavior, there were more epic stories, misadventures, and tales of debauchery on this trip than in previous gatherings. A high water mark has been set after this assemblage of nefarious souls who all traveled long distances and called in favors with spouses, family members, and bosses so they could get the necessary time off to delve deep in the mischievous under world of Las Vegas.

Excess. That could be one word to describe the weekend. Excessive use of profanity. Excessive gambling. Excessive narco/alcohol consumption. Excessive horniness. Excessive use of the words "Dick Bro."

We descended upon Sin City to do just that, as almost a hundred of us dove head first into an orgiastic binge of the Seven Deadly Sins.

Lust. Gluttony. Greed. Sloth. Wrath. Envy. Pride.

The worst deviants among us managed to spiral into a frenzy that included all seven, while a handful mustered up enough courage to dabble in one or two.

Most of the "no fuckin' way I can't believe he/she did that" stuff that went down between the hours of 2am and 8am is not blogworthy. For now. So for a few of you (names withheld) that engaged in sophomoric behavior, you're secrets are safe with me... until I go completely broke or lose my entire poker bankroll and decide to blackmail you to help get unstuck.

I must say that I'm equally freaked out and proud of everyone's hijinks. If we could get medals for doing stupid shit and acting like soused sleep deprived wankers... than we'd all be walking away with gold medals. But then again, doesn't everyone get a medal who participates in the Special Olympics? Because when you are special... so very special... everyone's a winner.

* * * * *
Lust

Lust is best described as depraved thought, unwholesome morality, desire for excitement, or need to be accepted or recognized by others. It also includes obsessive or unlawful sexual desire, such as desiring to engage in excessive sexual appetites. Bestiality, rape, and adultery are considered to be extreme forms of Lust. Dante's criterion was "excessive love of others," thereby detracting from the love due to God. However, Lust and love are two different things; while love involves mutual appreciation, trust, deep friendship, and willingness to sacrifice, Lust is little more than extreme sexual arousal. In Purgatorio, the penitent walks within flames to purge himself of lustful thoughts.

Moments before the tournament on Saturday at Caesar's Palace, AlCantHang stumbled over to me and said, "I think that I broke rule #20."

AlCantHang rolled by a hooker? Yikes. Yes, the ladies of the night were crawling all over the Geisha Bar at the IP. Derek caught them in action as pimps and hookers converged upon the bar looking for tricks.

"Dammit bitch, I told you to get over to Casino Royale!" one pimp screamed at one of his girls in front of Derek.

Sex in Sin City comes at a price and if you want to bang a working girl, it's going to cost you anywhere from $300 to $3,000 depending upon your fetishes and the quality of the girl. Sure there are crack whores down at the Redneck Riviera that will blow you for $20, but that's the difference from eating something off the Dollar Menu at McDonald's and feasting on a Kobe steak. You get what you pay for.

The depravity of humankind is epitomized by Las Vegas. It is the modern day version of Sodom and Gomorra with an all-you-can-eat buffet and 99 cent shrimp cocktail.

Thursday night at the Geisha Bar was the best night of the trip. Hands down. And it's not because of the hookers that infested the bar. I'm glad that I picked the Geisha Bar because it was strategically the best place to have an informal meeting place since most of us were staying at the IP.

Sure the IP might be a gem compared to anything downtown, but for a Strip property, it was very ghetto. A tinge of seediness filled the air with plenty of campiness from the Dealertainers. That suited my friends perfectly. We don't need gaudy casinos to have a good time. All we needed was a bar with a fast bartender and it didn't matter if we were at The Plaza, The Castle, The Borgata, or the Geisha Bar. We were there to see each other.

I figured only a handful of people would show up from 10-Midnight. I was wrong. The drinking lasted way into the morning hours and almost everyone who showed up on Thursday night was there including Otis who came in at the last minute.

Most of the people at this trip were veterans and knew that Thursdays were always a fun night an decided to come in early. Everyone who had a hangover when they woke up on Friday (or Saturday depending on when you eventually slept) can attest to the excessive binge drinking that eventually led to a phenomenon that I would refer to in my notes as "bloggers groping other bloggers."

Most of the sexual banter among the bloggers was jaw dropping, comical, and in a few instances outright pathetic. But hey, it's Vegas. And I hope people used protection, like what Bobby Beer Goggles said, "What happens in Vegas... gives you herpes."

Supposedly your punishment in hell for lust is being bombarded with fire and brimstone. Sounds like every bad session I had online at PokerStars this year.

* * * * *
Gluttony

Modern views identify Gluttony as being associated with an overindulgence of food and drink, though in the past any form of thoughtless excess could fall within the definition of this sin. Marked by a refusal to share resources and unreasonable or unnecessary consumption, Gluttony could also include certain forms of destructive behavior, especially for sport, for example substance abuse or binge drinking. The penitent in the Purgatorio were forced to stand beneath two trees, unable to make use of the food hanging there and giving them a starved appearance.

The sound of my cellphone ringing ended up waking me up Friday around 9:30am after crashing an hour after sunrise. AlCantHang had arrived in Las Vegas and I found him raging solo at the Geisha Bar. I couldn't let my wingman down and started drinking as the first batch of Friday arrivals began trickling in. Daddy stumbled off his plane and headed right to the bar at the IP with GMoney as I ordered vodka and vitamin C drinks with on_thg. It got you drunk and was healthy for you.

Mostly everyone was shocked when they found out I lost 20+ pounds and started eating salads and exercising daily. I did it for a reason. Survival. I knew that I had a seven week bender scheduled that included two trips to Las Vegas (Vegoose and the bloggers) and jaunt to Amsterdam with Change100. I'm getting older and it takes longer and longer for me to recover from those long parties that last for several days.

The four day bender at the Bash at the Boathouse and my birthday in late September nearly destroyed my liver but it quickly crushed my soul after I was hungover for almost a week afterwards. And that happened after only four days of partying. How would I be able to handle 50 brutal days of the rock star lifestyle if I couldn't even lasting a long weekend without puking and waiting to crawl up in a ball and die? I had to get in shape.

Running up to five miles a day gave me the endurance that I needed to survive a music festival with Professional Keno Player Neil Fontenot and the Joker, a trip to Amsterdam (where we walked everywhere), and running with the bulls (AlCantHang) in Las Vegas. I knew that I could handle the intoxicants. That was never an issue. What worried me was the cumulative affect of lack of sleep and having to constantly ward off hangovers by staying perpetually drunk.

When my immune system is low due to lack of eating and too much partying, I'm susceptible to colds and infections and my body suffers. Plus since I travel so much, I'm constantly flying on germ-infested planes and in contact with many different people who are surrounded by random illnesses. I had to boost my immune system and getting in shape and changing my diet was the quickest way to do that.

Instead of giving up bad foods and drinking, I found a way to continue my overindulgence.

Sure, I had a few bad mornings over the past seven weeks, but I feel great physically considering the kind of torture and rigorous traveling that I put myself through. I only added five pounds and my bum knee feels great. Conversely, the days after the completion of the Boathouse bender were utter torture. My liver and my soul has since recovered.

In Las Vegas, my body felt like I was 24 again instead of 34 just from running a few days a week. I finally figured out a way to keep partying into my 40s. As long as I work out and eat healthy for brief periods of time, I can continue to enjoy the gluttony of eating whatever I want and partying like I used to when I just got out of college.

Last Thursday before the drinking binge at the Geisha Bar, I managed to have an excellent meal at The Palm, one of my favorite steak joints with locations in LA, Vegas and NYC (where the original is located) where Derek and I celebrated life with the Poker Prof and Flipchip.

Of course on Friday, I shrugged off my hangover and headed to the buffet at The Wynn where Gracie held court. She expected less than 20 people to come and over 30 showed up. The Wynn's lunch buffet was better than expected and rivaled the Bellagio's. I feasted on the Jerk Chicken and Kobe meatballs. I made several trips to the buffet stations and managed to eat dessert halfway through my meal as I stuffed my face with sorbet, cookies, and other pastries.

Sadly, that would be the only meal that I ate on Friday. Twelve hours later, after consuming enough booze at the MGM to keep the entire town of Sheboygan liquored up for a month, I would regret not eating another meal. Food is the perfect fortification for booze. Without it, you're pretty much going to get blitzed and saying stupid shit like a shitfaced Michalski offering to lick my balls... for free.

Of course, there was no shortage of excessive drinking on both Friday and Saturday nights. Poor Drizz jumped out to the early lead for the Lewey Award after passing out in the bathroom where it took a couple of security guards and a wheelchair to get him back to his room safely. It was his birthday and I know things got fuzzy for me after I started drinking Kamikaze shots with Drizz.

The word moderation randomly disappears from my brain and my vocabulary when I'm in Las Vegas. The inner demons that haunt me have an unquenchable thirst for food, drink, drugs, excitement, sex, gambling, and adventure. It's easier to just give in than to do the right thing and quell those urges. The Dionysian lifestyle appeals to me.

In the city of excess, there was only one thing to do... surrender to the flow.


... to be continued.
posted by Pauly at 12/13/2006 07:25:00 PM | Permalink |

 
Preamble

Two years ago after the first every gathering of the tribes in Las Vegas, I wrote:

There's never a perfect place to start a Vegas trip report. You just have to close your eyes and pluck moments out of the air. Ah, and notes are a godsend.

That's how I feel about this past weekend. There's simply too much for me to construct the events into a running narrative. Hopefully I'll do my best to piece together the past weekend with friends.

I must admit that I've been taking less notes and less pictures these days. For me, I have more time to live life and experience it in the moment while it's happening than worrying about getting down all the juicy details. That sucks for readers and friends who couldn't make it. However, that means the experiences have reached a higher level of enrichment. And I cherish everyone one of those moments.

I have mentioned to more than one blogger that I consider myself one of the luckiest persons on the planet. I have been living the good life and the last two years have been some of the most fulfilling in my three plus decades in this universe. I also live with a morbid fear that the powers to be (pick your higher being: God, Buddha, Allah, Raelians, or Thetans) will take everything away from me at any given moment. It's a matter of time before all this is over. It's inevitable of course. Birth. Life. Death. Because I know there's an expiration date on all this goodness, I'm enjoying every second of it while I can.

If all this ends tomorrow, I'll have zero regrets because I've become friends with some of the coolest people that have roamed Earth (e.g. AlCantHang) and poker has brought me closer to my brother. For some reason whether it's fate, destiny, or pure coincidence... we have all crossed paths at this time and place in the cosmos. Our collective shared experience is what make life worth living. And despite whatever badness and negativity hovers over our daily lives, for a couple of days a year everyone leaves their protective bubbles and heads to Sin City to participate in the gathering of the tribes.

I've been to all five gatheings and aside from the first one, this one was by far my favorite because of you guys and girls who attended. Without all of you in my life, my world is dark without passion and any semblance of meaning. With all of you in it, I'm energized, motivated, and feel secure. My world is brighter because we have crossed paths. For that, I'll be eternally grateful.

I also wrote the following passage two years ago and the words still resonate with me today:

It was a freak accident that all this happened.... from me still being alive and not drinking myself to the gutter, to starting this blog, to discovering other bloggers, to developing friendships, becoming a part of a cool community, and then celebrating it all in Las Vegas... it's absurd to think that my life as I know it today... might never had come to fruition if certain tragic events had not happened.

I lost touch with me for a while. And when I least expected it, I rediscovered myself and found a dozen new friends along the way.

Vegas with the bloggers was one of my five favorite trips all time and I've been overflowing with inspiration since then. And I'm someone who's lived life and cricled the globe. I've traveled to a lot of places, seen a lot of different faces, and certainly done my share of wallowing in the hedonistic rock star lifestyle.

You have to believe me when I tell you the trip was extraordinary...

not because of the poker...
not because of the partying...
not because of the poker pros...
not because of Vegas...

the trip was amazing but because of the people involved.

I'm forged some new friendships, strengthened old ones, and bonded with a group of people whom I am proud to call my friends. I'm not exaggerarting when I say that the poker blogging community (not just those who were in Las Vegas)... saved my life in more ways than you'll ever know. Thanks again.

Well said. Stay tuned for more updates.
posted by Pauly at 12/12/2006 02:25:00 PM | Permalink |

 
Snailtrax, Male Prostitute

6:53am...

Moments ago, my junk was fondled by a hooker with breasts the size of watermelons at the Geisha Bar at the Imperial Palace. Daddy, Derek, BG, and myself were closing the convention with one final drink(s) to celebrate an amazing weekend of friends and debauchery, as we bullshitted about the weekend over a couple of SoCos. That's when the hooker appeared out of nowhere like a cockroach scurrying across your kitchen floor at 5am.

She looked used and abused and about thirty-five pounds overweight. She walked over and gently touched Daddy's beer gut. I wondered about how many tricks she's done in the last two weeks.

"Listen honey, I'll let you have sex with me for $800," Daddy shouted loud enough that one of the dealers from an adjacent Let It Ride table looked up.

"I have to pay you?" the hooker inquired. "What kind of bullshit is that?"

"Yes you have to pay me. You don't get to see the vanilla gorilla unless you show me eight one $100 bills."

As the two negotiated the price, she occasionally rubbed one hand on my crotch as my brother gave me a look like, "this fuckin' chick is nuts and I hope her pimp doesn't see us in action."

"Be careful," Derek warned as he made eye contact with Daddy. "Don't forget about Rule #20."

"You're a freak," Daddy mentioned to the working girl as she pointed out the multiple stains on his Johnny Unitas replica football jersey.

"Yeah? So what? There are a lot of ridiculous things about this fuckin' world. And I'm one of them."

For some reason that line stood out. Hookers pontificating about philosophy on a Monday morning in Las Vegas was the last thing I was expecting as I sipped on my Corona.

She sat down at a video poker machine and made two phone calls. An intoxicated Daddy leaned over and whispered something in her ear. He asked if she would be interested in letting BG sniff her underwear for $17.

"I'm not that kinda of girl," she said.

"Doc will do it for $4," he counter offered.
posted by Pauly at 12/11/2006 10:05:00 AM | Permalink |

 
WPBT Holiday Classic: -EV Prevails

Congrats to -EV for winning the Third Annual Holiday Classic on Saturday in Las Vegas. And congrats to Easy Cure for winning Gigli.

Here's the final table results:

WPBT Holiday Classic Money Winners:
1: -EV
2: Veneno
3: Michael Friedman
4: Daddy
5: Jim Gallagher
6: Sox Lover
7: April (CA)
8: Mattazuma
9: Vinny
10: Biggestron

Over 80 players bought in for $80 plus one $50 rebuy. I finished in 55th place and my starting table included -EV, Kat, Carter, Poker Nome, F Train, Maudie, Dawn, and Grubby who showed up almost an hour late. Vinny and Toby joined soon after.

I was shortstacked most of the first level until I doubled up on consecutive hands. My A-A held up against Kat and then I cracked Dawn's A-A with A-Ks. I flopped a Broadway straight and a nut flush draw and pushed because I had outs. 13 twice. I rivered the flush as Dawn flashed me a scowl. I went from a shortstack to a big stack.

I lost 95% of my stack when -EV cracked my A-A with 2-2. He flopped a set and I got my junked kicked in. Vinny knocked me out on the next hand.

My buddy Friedman went deep which was great because he had just gotten the pink slip from Card Player a week earlier. Daddy's run was epic.

"I played remarkable to say the least," mentioned Daddy about his performance. "And please do not link me."

Congrats to -EV and all the money winners. Stay tuned for a more detailed update of the tournament, pictures, videos, and tales of random hijinks.
posted by Pauly at 12/10/2006 04:20:00 PM | Permalink |

 
First Vegas Update: Tourists with Bad Hair 1, Pauly 0

The drive from LA to Vegas took about four hours. We stopped off in Baker for gas and Change100 courageously went into Taco Bell and ate an E. Coli Taco. After a quick nap, we headed over to the Mirage to play some cards. She signed up for a 3/6 Limit table while I wandered over and checked the list for 10/20 Limit and 1/2 NL. I got on the waitlist for 10/20 and sat down at a juicy 1/2 NL table. There were no cowboys playing, but a couple of fishy tourists were bleeding stacks of $5 red chips so I quickly jumped into the mix.

A-8s: 1/2 NL at The Mirage

During the first orbit I limped in at the CO with A-8s and flat called a raise from the button. The flop: 8-2-2. I bet out and got two callers. The turn: 4. I bet out and one player called. The river was a lovely Ace. Thinking that two pair is the best hand, I bet the pot and quickly got min-raised. I almost mucked because that raise was too suspicious. It was like he wanted me to call. I went into the tank and replayed the hand in my head. He raised me preflop but cold-called my bets on the flop and turn. Was he slowplaying something? I sighed and reluctantly called as I pushed a stack of red chips to the center of the table. I flipped over A-8 and my opponent flashed A-4 and tossed his cards into the muck.


A-A: 1/2 NL at The Mirage

I also won a rare big pot preflop. I was shocked because tourists on the Strip have a tough time folding to a re-raise preflop. With A-A in MP, I cringed when I saw two limpers in front of me as my testicles shrunk to the size of peas. I raised 6x BB. The guy behind me called and the button re-raised me about the size of the pot. One fishy middle-aged chick with big hair circa 1985 called. With almost 100 in the pot, I raised another 100. The guy next to me mucked and later told me he had J-J. Like I believed him.

The button rubbed his eyes for two minutes straight before he muttered something like, "That guy has Aces or Kings." He folded and the chick with the bad hair tried to get information out of me by asking me a dozen questions. I just shrugged my shoulders and sat in silence. She eventually mucked and I took down a hefty size pot preflop.

"Did you have a pair? Aces?" she asked.

"You'll have to wait to see that hand on TV," I joked.

She was not amused. Too much hairspray hinders your sense of humor. I should have shown her my Aces because she might have given me respect in a future pot. Because I never showed her my hand, a seed of doubt festered inside the hallways of her mind.


A-10s: 1/2 NL at The Mirage

I ended up losing a big pot to the chick with the big hair on a hand she had no business being in. I called a raise preflop with A-10s and flopped top two pair. There were two clubs on the flop and I played my hand strongly. After bad hair bet 1/2 the pot on the flop (about 30), I reraised another 100. She thought for a few minutes and called. I knew she was on a club draw. Both times she flopped a set earlier in that session, she played it hard and made sure no one outdrew her.

The turn was a blank and she bet out about 1/10 the pot. If I raised all-in, she had me covered and would call in a second. I min-raised her to see where she was at. She just called. My stack wasn't big enough from deter her from chasing her flush to the river. Against players like that, the right play would be to get all the money in the pot while I was ahead, but I decided to wait to see the river card instead of moving all in. She was catching cards and on a rush. If she missed on the river, I'd push.

Of course, the river was a club and she fired out a huge bet, worth almost 3/4 of my stack. I picked up my cards and tossed them into the muck. She showed the second nut flush. Had I pushed all in on the turn, I would have been felted. As is, I only lost 1/2 my stack and was still up overall for the session.

Against tourists who won't fold a flush draw and who don't understand pot odds or fold equity, it's nearly impossible to get them off a hand. In those instances, it's better to build a smaller pot than a bigger one and wait to see the river before making a move. I played defensive poker on that hand and ended up saving half my stack.


7-2o: 3/6 Limit at The Mirage

When my table broke and I sat down at Change100's table with a slew of awful players. She was on slight tilt after an old Asain lady sucked out on her. I raised UTG with The Hammer and hit the flop of 10-7-10. I bet out on the flop and turn. One guy called me all the way to the river with nothing except K-Q. He promptly spiked a King on the river and acted like he won the WSOP when the pot got pushed to him. When I sheepishly turned over my hand, he gave me a look of bewilderment before celebrating. The old lady in seat 9 simply laughed upon seeing 7-2o.
posted by Pauly at 12/07/2006 05:58:00 AM | Permalink |

 
WPBT Holiday Classic Flashbacks

I leave for Vegas in a few hours as I drive from the sunny hills of Hollyweird through bat country to frigid Las Vegas to meet up with bloggers and friends for the 3rd Annual Holiday Classic and fifth overall gathering of the tribes. Stay tuned for updates, pics, and videos.

Here are the posts that I wrote up about the first ever gathering two years ago when we had the inaugural event at Sam's Town. They represent some of my favorite pieces of writing on the Tao of Poker because my peers and friends inspire more than anything. Enjoy.

Chapter 1: Day 1, Part I
Chapter 2: Day 1, Part II
Chapter 3: Day 2, Part I
Chapter 4: Day 2, Part II... WPBT Holiday Classic
Chapter 5: Day 2, Part III
Chapter 6: Day 3, Part I
Chapter 7: Day 3, Part II
Chapter 8: Day 4, Part I
Chapter 9: Day 4, Part II
Chapter 10: Closing Thoughts

And here's a video that I put together of last year's gathering and tournament which was held at the Imperial Palace.


If you are viewing this via RSS or Bloglines then you'll have to click through to the Tao of Poker to view the video. Enjoy!
posted by Pauly at 12/06/2006 03:22:00 AM | Permalink |

 
Some Hands

Here are a couple of random hands (in four different ring games - Limit Hold'em, NL, PLO, and TD) which I played online the last few nights that were blogworthy.

7-7: 1/2 NL on Full Tilt

I had been mucking tons of crappy hands during my fifth orbit at a nine-handed NL table. Most of the pots were being played by three different super-loose players and the majority of the money was being pushed back and forth between the three. The remainder of the table was weak-tight with two short-stacks. The biggest stack had 3x the max buy-in. In MP, I raised 4x the BB with 7-7. The CO, button, and both blinds called. I lost position in a five-way pot and asked the poker gods to flop me a set. A beautiful 7 of diamonds appearedl on the flop along with a 3 of clubs and the Ace of diamonds.

"Action flop!" I yelled at my laptop. I bet the pot (about $40) and the button raised to $80. The LB check-raised all in for $100 total. I had both players covered and pushed my remaining $150 in as well. I was up against A-8o and Jd-10d. The turn was the 2 of diamonds and the river was the case seven. My re-suck felted two players. I left two hands later because the nimrod who went broke with TPSK (top pair shitty kicker) did not rebuy. I tagged him for future hunting expeditions.


2-2-3-4-7: .50/1 Triple Draw on Poker Stars

I raised on the button and got three callers in a micro-limit TD game. I'm drawing smooth to the nuts, but any 5 or 6 or 8 would suffice. One opponent drew four and the others drew three. I kept jamming the pot during each betting round. My first draw: 2c. Second draw: 2d. What the fuck? I picked up all four 2s in the deck. The last draw: 7. I wanted to shoot myself when a guy with Queen high won the pot.


Kh-Kc-Qh-Jc: 2/4 Pot Limit Omaha (Six-handed) on Full Tilt

I'm a big fan of double suited royal cards in PLO, especially in a short-handed game. I lost 1/3 of my stack two hands earlier after I flopped a straight and missed a flush redraw. That happens a lot in Pot Limit Omaha and I was ready to get my chips back after a flop of: Jx-Jh-9c. I flopped trips and had two backdoor flush draws with a gutshot straight draw. I bet out and was raised the pot. I thought about reraising the guy with the donkey as an avatar, but wanted to see if I could pick up more outs before I committed the remainder of my chips. The turn 10c. I made a straight and picked up a redraw to a straight flush. I bet out and he raised the pot. I re-raised and he pushed all-in. I called the rest of my chips and yelled, "Awww fuck me!" when he showed: 9-9-x-x. He flopped the boat and I was chasing outs for a bigger boat or the coveted straight flush. Both missed and I got felted.


K-Q: 5/10 Limit on Full Tilt

Classic example of how my luck prevails over any skills in my arsenal. I dunno why I called a raise in MP with K-Qo after the guy UTG + 1 raised, but I did. Usually those hands are tossed into the muck or if I do play them, I come in for a raise especially in EP. For some reason I felt like gambling and quickly hit the call button. The flop: A-10-9. He checked to me and I checked. The turn: J. My money card gave me a Broadway straight. He checked-raised me on the turn and I three-bet. He quickly capped. I had to put him on K-Q or J-J. Would he be raising with K-Q in EP? I've seen a plethora of Partyfish that have invaded the 5-10 games on FT raise with marginal hands like that so K-Q was possible. J-J seemed more likely and I hoped that the board wouldn't pair. River was a blank. He bet out and I raised. He called and my Broadway took it down.

He had A-9 and slowplayed his flopped two pair. His fancy play cost him the pot. His first mistake was playing A-9 in EP. At least he raised with it. His second mistake was slowplaying two pair. He got greedy and wanted to check-raise me. That backfired when I checked behind him. If he bet out on the flop, I would have folded my gut-shot. Instead, he let me catch up and nail a four outer. Always play your hands fast online. Like Grubby used to say, "Never slowplay in Limit unless you flop the absolute nuts."
posted by Pauly at 12/05/2006 04:00:00 PM | Permalink |

 
EPT, James Bond's Car, PokerStars Caribbean Adventure, and the Aussie Millions

Dear PokerStars,

Thanks for the car.

Sincerely,
Pauly

That's an inside joke that's funny for like five of you. But if you want a shot at winning a real car like an Aston Martin DBS, the one James Bond drives, then you should head over to PokerStars and check out their special promotion.

What: Win James Bond's Car
When: Saturday, December 9th at 3:00PM ET
Where: PokerStars
Buy-in: 10,000 FPPs

The only way to qualify for James Bond's car is to use your FPPs. You can buy-in directly or satellite your way in. PokerStars is running satellites that start as low as 25 FPP. They also have double-shoot outs and different SNGs.

For all you beach-loving poker players, you have until Sunday, December 10th to win your seat at the PokerStars Caribbean Adventure, which will be held at the Atlantis Resort on Paradise Island in the Bahamas on January 4-11, 2007. The PCA is a great opportunity to win some serious points with your wife or girlfriend by satelliting into a prestigious tournament and getting to take her to Paradise with you.

The Aussie Millions will be held at the Crown Casino in Melbourne, Australia starting January 14th. I'll be there but won't be playing in the main event. I'll be working the event so if you win a seat, I can come sweat you. I'll be posting more specifics of the Aussie Millions gig in the upcoming week or so. I am looking forward to spending a month in Australia playing some cash games, traveling to Sydney and Brisbane, and hanging out with Jules one of the original CBGCs. Satellites to the Aussie Millions are running on PokerStars as we speak.

If you don't know, the third season of European Poker Tour is more than half done. The EPT is where young Americans such as Brandon Schaefer and Carl Olson cut their teeth flinging around chips against some of the best players that Europe has to offer.

The next EPT event in Copenhagen, Denmark is currently sold out. That's how popular these events have become. But if you want to play in Copenhagen, you can only get a seat by qualifying online at PokerStars. There are a few seats left and satellites are running right now. With plenty of seats still left for tournaments in 2007 such as Deauville (France) and Monte Carlo, you can win a free trip to Europe by winning a satellite on PokerStars. I've been trying to win my seat to both events playing FPP freerolls.

In the last few years, I've spent most of my bankroll trying to win seats into the PCA, Aussie Millions, or various EPT events because the extra appeal of traveling overseas seemed a lot more exciting than playing in a cities I've visited a hundred times like Las Vegas or Atlantic City. If I had a choice, I'd rather play in the EPT Grand Finale in Monte Carlo than play in the WPT Championships at the Bellagio. Then again, I've been to the Bellagio more times than I can count and have never set foot in Monte Carlo.

If you are looking for something to do this week, PokerStars is giving you plenty of chances to win a seat to Paradise, visit Australia or Monte Carlo, or win a brand new car.

And if you don't have PokerStars Blog (edited and written by Otis) added to your bloglines folder or your blogroll, then what are you waiting for?
posted by Pauly at 12/04/2006 11:59:00 PM | Permalink |

 
Bloggers Invading Las Vegas Tips 4.0

I will be cutting and pasting excerpts from three previous posts and rewriting parts of them on tips on surviving Las Vegas, meeting bloggers for the first time, and advice for Vegas newbies.

Feel free to print this up and hand out copies to your entourage.

Disclaimer: I do not want to disappoint anyone who is meeting me for the first time, but I want to warn you that I am not as wild and crazy as every thinks I am. For the record, I will not be showing up in Vegas with two nymphomaniac teenage gymnasts from a Eastern European county that no longer exists, along with an eight-ball of Colombian Snow Flake and a brick of Moroccan hash the size of Herve Villechaize. Believe me, if I had access to those kind of drugs and were able to woo nimble nymphets like that, the last thing I'd be doing would be hanging out in Vegas with a bunch of degenerates gamblers.

So here we go... my Top 20 Tips on Surviving Las Vegas:

1. Cut back on sleep immediately.

As of right now, cut back on your sleep by 45 minutes every night and get down to about 3.5 hours of sleep per night. The average Las Vegas visitor gets around 3 hours of sleep and the average poker blogger gets substantially a lot less. Cutting back on sleep right away is an easy way to get adjusted to sleep deprivation by following my simple routine. Seriously, if you are used to getting 8 or more hours per night, you're in trouble.

2. Sip, don't chug.

Pace yourself with your alcohol consumption. Al Cant Hang is a machine. His blood type is 180 Proof because Al is really an alien. He's not of this world. Don't succumb to the frission of being in a casino bar with all your favorite bloggers and foolishly attempt to keep up. If you do, you'll end up clutching the porcelain God at 4am wondering why the hell that cab driver punched you out after you yaked up your dinner and a half a bottle of Southern Comfort in his back seat. Surviving the Sherwood Forest bar at 9am on the morning of the blogger tournament was a moment I'll never forget. It's a badge of courage like a soldier who managed to get through D-Day without a scratch. I'm glad that we made it through an entire weekend of partying in Vegas the last two Decembers and benders in the last two summers without anyone getting their stomachs pumped at the hospital or landing themselves in the drunk tank at the Clark County jail. Let's keep it that way. Moderation is the key to happiness.

3. Water and Motrin are your best friend.

Las Vegas is in the middle of the fuckin' desert. Drink water. Lots of it. I used to try to drink one glass of water per alcoholic beverage consumed. In Vegas I do my best to double that amount. Sure, I'm pissing every eight minutes, but you're head will thank you the next day when you're experiencing a hangover-free morning. One of my biggest expenses in Vegas is my water tab, well that and trips to strip clubs with Grubby.

Motrin is essential for combating hangovers. During college, one of my friends' girlfriend gave me several Motrin after I complained about my bum knee. She took Motrin for cramps and it's a reliable pain killer. If you expect to going running with the bulls and attempt to go shot for shot with AlCantHang, you will most likely die of SoCo poisoning. If you do survive, you will have the worst headace on the planet and wish you were dead. Dr. Pauly suggests taking four Motrin every three hours after a night of heavy drinking.

4. Bring a cell phone charger.

Don't forget one. Since you will be staying up from anywhere from 20-36 hours straight, you might want to make sure your cell is charged before you begin your gambling session. With bloggers in town, having a phone will be necessary to arrange meetings or if you need someone to post bail money. Besides, you should throw your loved ones at home a bone every 12 hours and send them a drunken text message or get someone on the horn for a Dial-a-Shot. When you are sleeping, charge up your phone during the few hours that you're crashed out.

5. Take pictures.

Come on, I know you geeky bloggers can't wait to spice up your Vegas trip reports with pictures. I encourage it, especially if you have never been to Vegas before. Don't be afraid to go camera happy and take more pictures than a menagerie of Osaka businessmen. Bring a camera, even if it's one of those disposable ones for $7. You have to leave Vegas with at least one good story and at least one good picture.

6. Ask before you post pictures on the internet.

If you are a person who thinks they look awful in photos or is just camera shy or they want to keep their identity a secret, then by all means please tell everyone now. Conversely, if you are going to post pictures of bloggers, make sure you get their consent with the exception of anyone who passes out in my room like the Poker Geek or Bill Rini. My ugly mug is all over the internet, so snap away.

7. Speak your mind and stay in the moment.

One of my regrets of these trips is not making enough time for everyone. I simply assumed that I'll have time later in the trip to shoot the shit and play cards with everyone, but that never happens. Don't make that crucial mistake. If you have the chance to talk to someone, take advantage of that opportunity. If you see Iggy at the pisser, seize the moment to talk shop with him. You never know what might happen during your time in Vegas. With such a big group, you won't have time for "quality one-on-one time" so whenever you cross paths with a fellow blogger, whether it's Otis sitting by himself at the Pai Gow table at 4am or running into Bad Blood at the Bellagio at 2am or shooting craps with Obie at the Plaza... stop by and shoot the shit. You won't regret it.

And don't feel shy or intimidated about saying what you want to me or anybody else. Our time is limited, so speak up! If you want to ask me questions, feel free. If you want blogging advice, just ask. If you want to buy me a drink, let's do it. If you want to go to strip clubs, then hold on a second and let me call Grubby.

8. Understand that it will be impossible to spend quality time with everyone.

I have already accepted the fact that I will not be able to hang out with everyone, even my friends and my brother Derek. With the huge number of people inovled with this event, it will be impossible to find blocks of unfettered time to spend with everyone. Expect splintered conversations that last about five minutes or ten minutes if you are lucky. Use meals and time at the poker tables as an opportunity to get to know your fellow bloggers.

So please understand ahead of time that I'm gonna feel horrible that we didn't get to spend quality time together. However, whatever time we do spend, it's going to be special and meaningful for me... so let's just have fun and live in the moment. I'm sure we'll all get together in a smaller setting at sometime in the future.

9. Don't be Gigli.

Former winners of the Gigli Award include:

Dec. 2004: Bill Rini
Jun. 2005: Poker Nerd
Dec. 2005: Tanya
Jul. 2006: Spaceman
Dec. 2006: ????

If you bust out first in the blogger tournament, then you will awarded the infamous Gigli DVD for coming in last place. I bought a new copy of Gigli (how sad is it when the postage costs more than the actual DVD?) which I will be giving to the first blogger out of the Holiday Classic tournament. Will it be you? And rest assured I will torment you for the rest of the year with chants of "Gigli! Gigli!" in your chatbox every time you play on PokerStars.

10. Never underestimate the importance of a $20 tip.

Do you wanna get shit done in Vegas? Tip the hell out of every person you see. I'm from New York City and we tip everyone. In a town like Vegas, most of the people working in the service industry are not paid extravagantly. They rely on tips to supplement their wages. You would be surprised how much attention you can get with a simple $20 tip. Heck that's like one big bet for some of you.

Example #1: I call this move The Grubbette. When you check into a hotel and they ask for your credit card, carefully place a folded up $20 bill underneath your card. As the front desk person is picking up the cash and card, quickly ask them if they can bump you up to a better room. It never fails. But then again, Grubbette is a lot cuter than me!

Example #2: I called around to find a reservation for dinner on Easter Sunday, I found out that every place was booked. Grubby, Senor and I made plans to meet Flip Chip and Poker Prof at Ceaser's Palace. I decided to pop into The Palm to see if they had any open tables. The hostess checked her reservations book and said she didn't have any open spots for us. When I spotted two open tables, I slipped her $20 and said "Did anyone every tell ya that you have beautiful eyes? By the way, can you check again? That's Dr. Pauly, for a party of five." We were seated within five minutes.

There is only one instance where I will tell you to save your tips... and that's in a strip club. Never, under any circumstances give a stripper a tip. If I find out you did, I will smack you personally.

Now if you think $20 gets you a long way... try tipping $40 or $100.

11. Food is fuel.

If you have the opportunity to eat, do it because you never know when you might never have another chance to get some grub. At the first ever gathering of the tribes, I never saw Iggy eat one bite during our last trip. He was on the ciggies and Guinness gambler's diet. And never drink on an empty stomach.

12. Wear comfortable shoes.

As a native New Yorker, I walk everywhere and I'm used to trudging along for five or six miles in a day. If you are a lazy fuck who's a slave to their vehicle, then start walking a mile or two everyday to get yor legs in shape. Plus if you want to walk the Strip, everything appears much closer in the desert. Otis can tell you how wonderful Ecco shoes are. Buy a pair.

13. Bring a watch.

There are exactly six clocks in the entire city of Las Vegas and you won't see any of them in an actual casino.

14. Keep your gambling bankroll separate from your other cash.

I think this one is self-explanatory. Don't bring more cash to Vegas than you are willing to lose. Always keep your bankroll separate from your strip club money. You'll thank me later.

15. $50 bills are bad luck.

Don't feel weird about asking to change in your $50 bills. That is one superstition I've been following every since Grubby clued me in.

16. Avoid the slots.

Grubby will try to turn you over to the dark side of gambling and get you to hit the Mr. Cashman slots with him at 3am. Resist the temptation!

17. Don't tell people at your poker table that you have a poker blog.

Please for the love of God, do not tell anyone you're in town for a poker bloggers convention. Why don't we just slap the loser mark right on our foreheads and walked around with Bonus Code Iggy tattooed on our asses? The only thing worse would be to mention we're at a MySpace pedophile convention. I never tell "civilians" that I'm a blogger. If they recognize me, then that's fine. But never reveal who you are. Because if you do, then you can't talk about them or make fun of them in our blog!! And please don't out me at the tables to civillians. If anyone says, "Do you know who that is?" and points to me will get to experience the wrath of The Rooster.

You're in Vegas. It's a surreal place. Make shit up. Pretend you're a fish. I lie to dealers, strippers, cab drivers, and my tablemates all the time when I'm in Vegas. During previous trips, I've told random strangers that I was a marine biologist, an aquarium salesman, a trumpet player in a Latin jazz band, a radiologist, and my favorite... that I've just got out of prison. The ladies seem to like that one. Bottom line is this: if you can't successfully lie to the people at your table and if you are unable to convince them that you are in fact an astronaut, then you shouldn't be playing poker in Las Vegas. Go home and fire up Poker Stars instead.

During this trip I intend on telling folks that I'm former priest who left the church to pursue a career in e-banking or I'm thinking about being the malcontent heir to the "Spork" fortune. A spork is not a fork, but not quite a spoon. One of my fraternity brothers in college used that line to try to pick up girls in bars. He even convinced a few that he had a spork shaped swimming pool. And if I happen to stumble into a strip bar, my cover story will be that I'm the tour manager for a metal band called The Al Cant Hang Experience.

18. Bring a jacket and sunglasses.

Sloshr suggested that I tell everyone to bring a jacket or sweater. It gets cold in Las Vegas in December so pack something warm. It's cold in parking decks and most card rooms have high powered A/C.

19. Never burn the locals.

Hunter S. Thompson mentioned that in Fear in Loathing in Las Vegas and it's the travelers mantra. Never, ever piss off the locals. That includes hotel and casino staff. They live in Vegas and don't need your drunk ass berating them.

20. Don't get rolled by a hooker.

This is self-explanatory. But if you have the desire to hire a working girl at the nearest Hooker Bar, then make sure you're not too drunk and never flash around your bankroll because you will get robbed. A 2005 WSOP bracelet winner picked up two hookers to celebrate his win and not only did he get rolled, they also stole his bracelet.

Ok that's it for now. Those were my half-baked ideas on how to survive Las Vegas. If you can remember half of these, then you should make it home in one piece. I'm scheduled to leave for Vegas on Wednesday. And it's only four days and counting until the 3rd Annual Holiday Classic...
posted by Pauly at 12/03/2006 07:27:00 PM | Permalink |

 
Book Review: Hunting Fish

Every time Jay Greenspan entered the media room at the 2006 WSOP, I ordered every person inside to give him a raucous standing ovation.

"Can I get your attention please! Jay Greenspan, everybody!"

And the room would erupt into applause as Greenspan would wave and we'd carry on our business. There was one time during the main event when we got "shushed." Yeah, I was in shock.

After I yelled out, "Jay Greenspan, everybody!" someone in the back, a wide-eye fresh-faced media rep (who had know idea what pot odds were and had just gotten in a day or two earlier) had the audacity to yell, "Shhhhhhhhhh!" back at us.

I turned to Wheaton who sat two seats down from me. We both shook our heads and muttered, "Fuckin' rookies."

"That's no way to treat a Big Shot," I screamed back.

In the past I've referred to Jay Greenspan in my blogs as "Big Shot." Part of that was in jest but part of that was a true assessment of him as writer. Jay got a gig we all wanted... he would travel America playing poker and write about his experiences for a book.

The result of his journey was Hunting Fish: A Cross-Country Search for America's Worst Poker Players (St. Martin's Press, Aug. 2006). In his book, Greenspan eloquently describes his search for poker games while trying to pad his bankroll $20,000 so he can play in high stakes cash games in at Commerce Casino during the LA Poker Classic. That would be the last stop on his trip as he drove from NYC up to Foxwoods, Atlantic City, DC/Virginia, South Carolina, Atlanta, Tunica, Texas, Las Vegas and eventually to several stops in California. At the same time, he's struggling internally with the decision if he should become a full-time poker player while worrying about how his poker pursuits affected his family, friends, and his fiancee.

Greenspan is a writer and a damn good one at that. He has the most flavorful vocabulary out of any poker writer I met. He once described John Bonetti as "the saltiest character in all of poker." After a stint in comedy writing in Hollyweird, Greenspan flourished as a technical writer for many years before focusing on poker. He started up a site called Poker Savvy before he sold it last year and had been earning a living as a poker journalist. He covered the WSOP the last two years for Full Tilt. We officially met at the 2005 WSOP.

Greenspan is a lanky 30-something New Yorker. With salt and pepper colored hair, he has been stopped on numerous occasions for an autograph because he resembles American Idol star Taylor Hicks.

I spent many long and tedious hours in the trenches at media row sitting next to Greenspan (and BJ, Otis, Michalski, Flipchip, and the Poker Wire girls) during dozens of final tables at the 2005 WSOP. Poker tournaments are very boring affairs and there's a lot of down time. Getting stuck next to someone for hundreds of hours during the WSOP allows you to get to know someone pretty well. Greenspan and I have seen each other on our best and worst days. I was fortunate that Greenspan was a cool dude and we riffed on a multitude of topics including sharing plenty of dirty secrets and soul-crushing gossip.

Residing in Brooklyn, Greenspan has played numerous hours in the different underground clubs in New York City and several of his stories appear in Hunting Fish. Greenspan happened to play poker in many of the same areas that I've played, so the book has a little extra special meaning for me.

He aptly describes playing with rocks at Foxwoods, crazy gypsies at Play Station and the Russians who colluded by speaking Sputnik to one another in the NYC card rooms, the grumpy old folks in AC, racists and anti-Semites in the South, cowboy-fish in Tunica, loose Asians in the California casinos, and the overweight track-suit wearing professional grinders at the Mirage in Las Vegas.

He also has a couple of hilarious stories about bluffing Mike Matusow out of a pot in a tournament and the time he went to the Lodge in Dallas to play in Michalski's Sunday night tournament where the dealers were strippers who dealt the cards topless.

Greenspan also weaves in discussions with his psychiatrist along with colorful hand histories of the games he's playing. Along the way, you're pulling for Greenspan to do well in every game he crashes so he can win enough money to play in a big game in LA or win enough money to buy his fiancee a really nice ring.

The pacing of the book is quick and you can easily read it all on a long airplane flight or over a weekend. It's a fun, entertaining, and educational at the same time. I wish that I read Hunting Fish before last June's blogger trip because then I would have not let Greenspan steal so many of my blinds. Bastard!

And contrary to internet rumors (that I started)... Jay Greenspan does not get paid in hookers and blow. At least, that's what he wants us to think.

If you don't have a copy of Hunting Fish, you can order one.... here.
posted by Pauly at 12/01/2006 01:02:00 AM | Permalink |