Around the World in 150 Days, Day 12, The Big Game
April 18th, Las Vegas: I wake up naturally a few minutes before my inevitable wake up call, and by naturally I mean needing to piss horribly. I sprint for the bathroom then come out and check the time. Pretty much everyone has told me the $25,000 will start late, so I take my time getting changed into a suit and checking email. One annoying aspect of traveling with nice clothes is that they get wrinkled and semi dirty just by being in a suitcase so long and sometimes you have to bite the bullet and wear wrinkled up clothing, such as my shirt today. I figure if I just tuck it in very tight it should look snug, plus the suit will cover up most of it.
Before going down to the Fontana room I stop over in the Bellagio convenience store to get a meal replacement bar, which will have to be breakfast. I take it over to the lounge then sit outside in front of the Bellagio fountains eating it at a table with 'Shaniac'. I talk shit and demand a tennis match, but his wrist is still too messed up for it, so we agree that come WSOP it'll go down.
I move back into the room and find my seat. Our stacks are 100,000 in chips with 90 minute levels and the blinds starting at 50/100. Jesus Christ, 1000 big blinds, how will I possibly spew them all off? I take a glance around at the line up of my starting table, which is as follows: Scott Montgomery in seat 1, then Brandon Cantu, then Paul Wasicka, an empty chair, then Bruno Fitussi, myself, Barney Boatman on my left, then a guy I've seen around but whose name I can't remember, then Jennifer Harman, and then a total unknown older guy who is wearing an expensive dress shirt and I'm fairly sure is a recreational player. It's not a bad table to get in this tournament, and I've got position on Cantu and Wasicka who promise to be the trickiest guys at the table.
When Jennifer sits down Cantu remarks to her "I almost took a dog home last night Jen." I almost bite my tongue off.
"What kind was it?" asks Jennifer.
"A little one, but they're just too much time to take care of and I don't have time for it."
"Yea, they're a lot to handle, gotta be responsible about it" she adds.
"Wow, when you said that to her I took it in a totally different context" I blurt, then add
"I was like, how the fuck is that the first thing you say to her when she sits down? Hahaha"
The early goings are very uneventful for me. A ton of the hands I play are over on the flop, and I don't get into an interesting one until near the end of the first level:
Effective stacks: ~95,000, blinds 50/100, I hold AsJs on the HJ.
Preflop: Folds to Bruno in MP2, Bruno raises to 300, I call on the HJ, it folds to the SB, the SB calls, BB folds.
Flop: Ah Jc 6h
SB checks, Bruno bets 800. I think over my options. Unfortunately I've been incredibly tight and straight forward thus far from being card dead, so I'm fairly sure if I raise him here on the flop and bomb the turn he'll give up all one pair hands. Meanwhile I think if I call and the board doesn't get super scary I often get three decent sized streets from him with most one pair hands. I think if I had a better image I should be raising this flop, and I maybe just should anyway. I elect to call and the SB folds.
Turn: 9h
Bruno thinks for quite a while then bets 1000, I call.
River: 6s
Bruno thinks for quite a while then bets 2800, I call and he tables AhQh. Fair enough.
A few orbits later I witness a rather hilarious hand between Scott, Brandon, and Paul. It olds to Scott and he limps the button, Brandon completes in the SB, and Paul checks in the BB.
The flop comes down AKT with two hearts, and Brandon glances at it then mucks. Paul is considering his action then Scott says "Come on, you fold too" so Paul now open folds, giving Scott the pot before the action ever got to him.
"Wow! I didn't even look at the flop yet!" says Scott.
"That was a sick Jedi mind trick" I add "What'd you say to them exactly? I wanna write this shit down, not often you see someone just order people to fold and they do it."
Not long after the hand Scott and I get involved in our first major pot:
Effective stacks: ~93,000, I hold 8d8h in the SB, blinds 100/200.
Preflop: Folds to Scott on the HJ, Scott raises to 600, CO calls, button folds, I call, BB calls.
Flop: 5s 8s 9s
I lead out 2000, the BB folds, Scott calls, the CO folds.
Turn: 3h
I check (I should be betting here, Scott is loose enough), Scott checks.
River: Qs
I think things over then check, and Scott checks behind.
"Do you have a spade?" I ask.
"Nope"
Then I must be winning. I flip up my set a second before Scott flips up his, a set of nines. Good thing the 5 didn't pair.
I remain card dead for quite a while and try to find spots to get involved but considering that it's a fairly loose and active table I'm unable to stop anyone's aggression without some degree of hand. I get involved again near the end of the level:
Effective stacks: ~90,000, blinds 100/200, I hold KsJh in the BB.
Preflop: Folds to the unknown in MP2, MP2 raises to 600, HJ folds, Cantu calls on the CO, Wasicka calls on the button, SB folds, I call.
Flop: Qd 7c 7h
Everyone checks.
Turn: 8c
I bet 1800, MP2 calls, CO folds, button folds.
River: 4s
I think MP2 might have a decent amount of missed draws and will fold any pocket pair not over a Q he peeled the flop with given my very tight image. I doubt he'll fold a Q, but he's also the type to bet the flop with it a ton, so I'm not overly worried. I bet 4200, MP2 folds.
Yet again I go very card dead and stay out of the action for quite a while. I don't play another serious hand until the next level:
Effective stacks: 95,000, blinds 100/200 with 25 ante, I hold 8s7s on the HJ.
Preflop: UTG folds, Montgomery limps UTG+1, Cantu raises in MP1 to 825, two folds, I call on the HJ, Boatman calls on CO, Harman calls on button, SB folds, BB calls, Montgomery calls.
Flop: 8c 7d 2c
It checks to me, I bet 3500, Boatman calls, Harman goes into the tank for quite a while then raises to 13,500 and it folds back to me. Christ, this sucks. Harman has been incredibly tight in her time at the table, and I've been equally uninvolved. I find it very unlikely that she'd play any draw like this, and there's no worse two pairs in her range, so I fold. Boatman folds as well and her hand remains a mystery.
Just a couple orbits later I get in another big pot with Harman:
Effective stacks: ~90k, blinds 100/200 with 25 ante. I hold 7c7d on the button.
Preflop: Folds to Wasicka on the HJ, Wasicka raises to 700, CO folds, I call on the button, BB folds, Harman calls in the BB.
Flop: A 8 7 rainbow
Harman checks, Wasicka checks, I bet 1700, Harman calls fairly quickly, Wasicka folds.
Turn: K full rainbow
Harman checks, I bet 4100, Harman thinks for a while and checkraises to 15100. Ah fuck, she's probably got a better set cause she's Jennifer Harman. I call with the intention of calling most rivers and hating my life.
River: 5
Harman fairly quickly bets 25000, and I quickly fling my chips into the pot, forgetting to kiss them goodbye first. Harman tables 88 and I glance back at my cards then exhale slightly, an explosion of emotion for me at the table.
Then things go back to being card dead. I am folding hand, after hand, after hand. Occasionally I mix in a random three bet on one of the more aggressive players on my right and mostly take it down preflop, particularly going after Wasicka because he's good enough to both open raise a lot and not make spazzy out of position reraise calls.
At the 200/400 level I see a flop 5 ways with 63o in the BB in a limped pot. The flop is 754 two diamonds and I lead out 1600 which gets a call from Harman and a raise to 5000 from Wasicka. I shove my stack of about 34k. Harman tank folds what she says was Ad5d and Wasicka fairly quickly folds.
Outside of that hand I'm still enormously card dead and mostly unable to play a hand because there's action in front of me. It's not until near the very end of the day that I get involved in another hand:
My stack: ~46,000, Cantu: ~160k, Boatman: ~80,000, blinds 300/600 with 75 ante. I hold 66c on the CO.
Preflop: Folds to Cantu in MP2, Cantu raises to 1900, folds to me on the CO, I call, Boatman raises to 6000 on the button, olds back to Cantu, Cantu calls, and I call despite fairly weak implied odds because it's multi way and Boatman three bets so rarely I think he has a hand that stacks off to a set pretty frequently.
Flop: A 8 3 rainbow
Cantu checks, I check, Boatman checks.
Turn: 8
Cantu checks. I decide that since most of Boatmans range is big pairs and I have an enormously tight image he'll likely fold to a large turn bet from me. Cantu flats reraises quite wide, so God knows what he can have, but with the way I'm playing it's unlikely he tries to bluff me too much. I bet 11,000, Boatman folds, and Cantu check shoves. I drop my cards into the muck.
A few orbits later play ends for the day, and when I count up my remaining chips they total 28,350. An Australian friend suggests we get dinner together so we hit the Bellagio buffet with Ross and Barney Boatman. Everyone has done vastly better than me today.
When we finish we go back to my room and I call an Australian couple, Lisa and Scott, that are visiting for a few days that I set up at the Bellagio. They come up to my room and then roll up a big joint and smoke out my bathroom. I glance around my bedroom, I have trashed it again. Lisa, Scott, and I discuss what to do with the evening. We decide we should get wasted.
The three of us hop in a cab over to the Wynn to try and get into their club. We wait in line for 45 minutes and it stops moving. We decide to just walk down the strip and find somewhere easier to get into. We settle on 'Margaritaville' and start dropping jagerbombs and beers. I tell Lisa about the Adelaide hospital situation, then use it to open the girl sitting at the bar and get her opinion, then start arguing with her about it. It doesn't go anywhere.
We keep drinking then hit the dance floor and take your standard drunken idiot jumping all over each other pictures that everyone takes on a big night out. I approach a table full of woman by insinuating that they left their respective men home for a reason. The interaction does not go well.
Eventually we leave the bar and stumble down the strip towards the Bellagio. As we're walking through the Bellagio hallways I look a woman in the eye and say "Hi." She turns around with her friend and we start chatting. Eventually I realize that they are too aggressive in the interaction
"Are you girls working?"
"Are you?"
"Are you asking if I'm a jiggalo?" (several hours later I realized they were asking if I was police)
"Hahaha no."
"Well I'm not working."
"Well then maybe we should have some fun tonight."
"Yea that'd be really cool. I'm staying over at the Bellagio, why don't you girls stop by about 3:30am? Ask for the room of Christian Harder okay?"
"Okay sweetie we'll see you at 3:30."
"Great."
We walk through the Bellagio and decide to go into 'Caramel' despite already being wasted and it being stupid late. We get in quickly and immediately hit the bar and get another drink. I somehow wind up in a conversation with some woman and within a few moments my arm is around her and hers around me. Beer goggles are in full affect. Things start getting blurry, I tell her that we'll go wine tasting. She tells me she's 29, I say age you're only as old as you feel. I don't have a phone, so I tell her she needs to email me her number using her blackberry. She does it then I add
"Well I should get going, give me a kiss on the cheek for good luck tomorrow." She leans up and kisses me on the check.
"Better get double coverage, go for the other side." She does.
"Upon fullest consideration better cover the lips too."
"I'm not gonna kiss you! I just met you!" she retorts.
I don't react at all for a moment then shrug and say coldly
"Yea, yea you are." Then we make out a little. I can't believe that worked.
I stumble back towards the elevators from the bar. I don't seem to have my key. I try to make cohesive sense to the guard about why they should let me up. I seem to do a good job of it because they let me up. When I get in the room and fire on the computer I start chatting to Chewy and Charder and tell them I should come downstairs and entertain them. They tell me to stop by.
I take the elevator up to their room and burst into the room in a whirlwind up drunken rambling and nearly falling over. During one such long gesticulating rant I nearly knock their TV over. I apologize to Christian for sending the prostitutes to his room, though it doesn't matter because security would never send them up to the room. He finds it amusing, it seems. Chewy is playing tomorrow and before I leave I leap into his bed and hug him several times yelling "GOOD LUCK CHEEEEEEWY!!"
After I leave I take the elevator back to my room, order Indian food from room service, then pass out in my bed.