Viva Las Vegas — part five

Part Four is here.

Over the next several hands, the table tightens up significantly. I thought I was a tight player, but just about any bet gets the table to fold . . . and it’s Kotter who is doing the betting. He slowly builds his stack back up, eighteen and twenty-one dollars at a time, and I’d love to get into a pot with him, but my cards are consistently garbage: nothing but single-ply, rest area toilet paper.
At one point, Golf Shirt raises him, and they go heads up. I forget the exact board, but there is a Queen, at when Golf Shirt turns up Q-3 at the showdown, Kotter slowly nods his head, like, “I knew I was beat all along,” before showing K-5.
“You don’t have to show if you know you’re beat,” Pungent says. “You can just fold it.”
Kotter looks down at his chips, nods his head, and in that moment he becomes the single most tragic figure I’ve ever seen in a casino — hell, maybe anywhere — in my life.
Right around the deadly 2.5 hour mark (the time, I’ve determined, when my game completely falls apart, unless I’m on the greatest rush in history) I find A-9 of clubs, one seat ahead of the button. It’s called all the way around, and I decide to raise it. My reasoning goes something like this: “I haven’t been in any hands in a long time. Maybe I can just buy this now, and walk out of here a winner!”
It’s folded all the way around to Siegfried, who calls. Dianne calls, and Rob deals out the flop: Ad-5d-7c. Siegfried checks, Dianne checks, and I bet. They both call.
Golf Shirt’s wife walks up, holding a bucket filled with quarters. It looks like it must weigh fifty pounds.
“Gary! Gary! I won! I won!”
We all stop and look up at her.
“How much?” He says.
“I don’t know! This much!” She shakes the bucket, and some quarters slip off the top and roll under our chairs. Her excitement infects her husband, and trickles out onto the table a little bit.
“There’s nothing quite like winning in Vegas, is there?” I say to her.
She smiles and nods. “How’re you doing?” She asks Golf Shirt.
“Down a little,” he says. He’s actually played pretty well, by my estimation. He’s just not catching that many cards.
“Well, we’re up now!” She says, as more quarters spill onto the floor.
“Congratulations,” Dealer Rob says with a genuine smile, “Here comes the turn.”
It’s the 10 of clubs. “Oh! Top pair, overcard kicker, and a flush draw . . . excellent.”
Siegfried bets, so I figure he’s paired a ten, unless he’s playing 9-8, which I suppose is possible . . . but I’m still leading. Dianne calls, but she’s been in it until the River with just about anything, so I call.
Mrs. Golf Shirt kisses her husband on the cheek, and tells him she’ll be back after she cashes out her quarters. They’re a happy couple, and I smile as I watch them.
“Three players,” says Dealer Rob. He knocks the table — the first time I’ve seen this move since I sat down — and deals The River: the ten of spades.
I look out at the board: Ad-5d-7c-10c-10s.
Siegfried bets, and this time it’s back to foppishly. I wonder if that’s some sort of tell? Dianne calls, and I call.
“Showdown,” Dealer Rob says to Siegfried. I hear an explosion of cheering from a craps table. It’s the first sound from the rest of the casino that I’ve heard since I sat down.
Siegfried turns up the Ace of spades and the nine of diamonds. I laugh, and get ready to split the pot . . . until Dianne turns over the 4 of diamonds . . . and the ten of diamonds.
It’s my turn to look like Kotter. “Aw, fuck me.”
Siegfried purses his lips, and blows out a perturbed sigh. Dealer Rob pushes the pot toward her, and I say “Nice hand, Dia— uh, Ma’am.”
“Thank you,” she says with an embarrassed smile.
“Well, time to cut out of here while I’m still a hundred bucks ahead,” I tell myself, but my legs refuse to get up. A new inner voice, which sounds remarkably like Mr.T, says, “You gonna let her take your money? You better get it back, fool! Damn crazy lady playing Highway Patrol catches two runners to beat you . . . I pity the fool who leaves the table after that beat!”
It’s a pretty big “warning flag,” when I’ve got imaginary voices calling me out, (especially when I haven’t been drinking Guinness), but when Mr. T. speaks, I listen. Against my better judgement, I play “just one more hand” for another twenty minutes, but I never open until I find AK in the Big Blind.
It’s called all the way around, and when Dealer Rob gives me the option, I say, “Raise.”
But he’s starting to deal the flop before I put my chips out. He stops short, and says, “Three more to play.”
“What?” Trucker Hat says.
“He said raise,” Dealer Rob says. “It was my mistake.”
Trucker Hat sighs and squints at me.
Golf Shirt quickly calls. His leg is as still as a dead salmon frozen in a waterfall, so I’m happy to get the extra checks. Pungent looks at his cards, then to me, then to his cards again before he splashes three chips out. Kotter stares at me and does the slam: “I call him.” Trucker Hat growls at me as he calls, and Siegfried raises!
I put him on a steal, and I’m happy to get the action, but the rest of the table is clearly unhappy with this move.
I’d have to lean around Dealer Rob to see Dianne, but out of the corner of my eye, I see her hand put out a call.
I look down at my stack, which I’ve arranged into a pyramid: three stacks of 20 chips lean up against the padding, then two, and finally one stack of reds out front. There are another ten or so reds that I’ve been shuffling to the side, so I’m still up just over 100 bucks.
I snap three chips off one of the back stacks, and drop them in front of me. “Call.”
Golf Shirt folds, Pungent sighs heavily and flicks his cards away with one finger. Kotter stares into infinity, slowly nods his head, draws his lips tightly together, and casually tosses his cards toward Dealer Rob.
Trucker Hat avoids eye contact with me as he calls, and I’m positive that he’s just pissed at me for what he thinks was a shifty play. “You just stay nice and pissed at me, mister man,” I think, with just a touch of contempt.
Dealer Rob dumps the rake and deals out the flop: it’s a rainbow, 8-4-2.
Dianne checks, and I think back to everything I’ve read about playing A-K, which I think of as a very powerful drawing hand, but pretty damn far from a made hand, especially in a game like this, where someone is just as likely to be playing 5-7 off-suit as they are to be playing a big pocket pair. Sklansky says that it can start out as a strong hand, but if the flop totally misses you, it can become the dreaded “dominated hand” . . . or it can be two really big overcards that make for a nice semi-bluff, especially if you’ve raised it before the flop. My gut tells me that check means she was hoping to make a hand on the flop, and it missed her. I’m under the gun now, so I decide to show some strength, and see if I can buy this pot right now. If Siegfried raises, though, I have to figure I’m beat.
“Check or bet, sir,” Dealer Rob says.
“Bet.” I say.
It’s called all the way around, and I pause briefly to wonder if someone has paired that eight, but when the turn is an Ace, my wonders cease.
Dianne checks it again, and I bet it. Trucker Hat folds, Siegfried folds, and I’m getting ready to scoop up the pot and call it a day when Dianne raises me, which sets her all-in.
“All-in,” Dealer Rob announces.
My inner Admiral Akbar screams, “IT’S A TRAP!!” But my inner Lando Calrissian says, “Here goes nothing,” as I say, “Hey, you want to play them up?” and call.
Before she can say anything, the river comes out: it’s a blank, but we all know I’m beat by now anyway, right?
I turn over my Big Slick, and Dealer Rob says, “Pair of Aces.” It seems like fifteen years before he turns his head away from me, and looks back at the board. “Two Pair: Eights and Fours,” he says, as he shoves the pot to Dianne.
Golf Shirt says, “Holy shit, man.” Trucker Hat laughs out loud, and I wonder why this guy has decided to make me not just his opponent, but his enemy. It’s not like we ended up in any confrontations . . . but I guess it’s the difference between me and a serious gambler. I wonder if I’ll ever be able to cross that Rubicon?
“Oh man . . .” I say. “Nice hand, ma’am. Seriously, nice hand.”
It turns out that it really was my “one last hand,” and I rack my chips.
“That’s all for me,” I say, to nobody in particular.
“Have a good night,” Golf Shirt says.
“Tell you wife to buy you something nice with her slot wins,” I say.
“If she hasn’t given it all back!” He says with a chuckle. I don’t know how I could ever have a killer instinct against this guy, and I realize that I’m relieved we didn’t end up in any confrontations.
Just before I stand up, Dianne walks out behind me, my chips cradled in both her hands.
We arrive at the cashier together.

“Can I ask you two questions?”
She looks at me, warily. “Okay . . .”
“What’s your name?”
“Jennifer,” she says, a little puzzled.
“Of course it is, just like Jennifer Harman.”
“Hi, Jennifer. I’m Wil.” I extend my hand. As we shake I say, “How could you cold-call with just 8-4 unsuited?”
She flushes a deep crimson and says, “Oh that . . . well, I was down to nothing, anyway, and I just thought I’d play one last hand to see if I could get some of it back before I met my husband for dinner.”
Touche, Poker Gods. Tou-fucking-che.
The cashier counts my chips, and gives me two hundred and twenty-seven dollars.
“Well, you trapped me like a pro,” I say. “It was a hell of a hand.”
I pause, and I have to say it again. “A hell of a hand.”
“Thank you,” she says, “but I’m not really much of a poker player.”
“Could have fooled me,” I say. “Have a nice night.”
“You too.”
I tip the cashier, and walk out of the room. As I pass my former table, I see that Trucker Hat is heads up with Golf Shirt, who is bouncing his leg. I smile to myself and send him some mental mojo that he most certainly does not need.

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90 thoughts on “Viva Las Vegas — part five”

  1. Here’s a brief epilogue I wanted to add, but didn’t think fit into the main body of my story:
    “When you lose, don’t lose The Lesson,” an unknown sage once said, so the entire way back to my hotel room, I replay the last few hours, but especially my last hand. The third or fourth time I hear Dealer Rob say,”Two Pair: Eights and Fours,” I realize that I made my fatal error on The Turn. Even though I was raised, I ignored the information that bet gave me, and stayed in the hand. Winning players have to turn on a dime and change it up, you’ve got to be able to bet, raise, and fold, all in the same hand. If I’d been listening to Jones (In a low-limit game, if you’re raised on The Turn from someone who’s previously just called, you’re probably beat, unless you have the stone-cold nuts), or Krieger (If you’ve made it to The Turn, you should have a made hand, a powerful drawing hand, or complete certainty that your bluff will buy the pot.), or Sklansky (Every time you play a hand differently than you would have with all of your opponents’ cards visible, they gain; every time you play your hand the same as you would have with all of your opponents’ cards visible, they lose) . . . if I’d been listening to everything I know, instead of Mr. T, I’d be walking out of here about $100 ahead, and not $27 ahead, but I’m still happy. It may not be that big a deal to anyone else, but I did stare down some fear when I sat at that table, and I learned a three very important things that will help my game:
    I can’t play longer than 2 hours.
    When I think I’ll play “just one more hand,” it’s always a bad idea.
    I have to be willing to bet, raise, and fold — all in the same hand — if I want to be a consistently winning player.
    The way I see it, learning those lessons cost me about 73 dollars, but if I can save at least 73 dollars in the future by not making those three mistakes, I’m still ahead.
    I had a lot of fun writing this story, and I sincerely hope that you WWdN readers enjoyed it. Now, I’m off to Gnomedex for the weekend . . . and I hope I’ll return with another story.

  2. Thanks for the story Wil, it was a great read. I’ve learned the rules of poker just so I could follow your poker stories and understand what was happening.

  3. Thanks Wil! Great story… kept me coming back everyday. You are quite the writer. I think maybe I will go order your books now…

  6. See.. this is why I don’t go by the books. Sometimes its just the luck of the draw.. sometimes you just got to go by intuition.. this may be why you slaughtered me before.. but I have improved…however I still like to mix it up. 😉

  7. I was on the phone with my girlfriend, while sitting at a 9 person home game. She says, “How much longer?”. I says, “20 minutes”. I hadn’t won a hand all night. I stick with my promise, and leave 20 minutes later. Coincidentally, having just split a huge pot on my last hand. I was lucky, and I know it’s easy to walk away when you just won a pot. It seems to be harder to walk away when you are down, or haven’t won a pot. I know you couldn’t resist. Nice playing. Nice story. I’m out.
    -K

  8. Man, Wil. I know absolutely nothing about poker, but I was riveted. Great style you got going there. Can’t wait for the next one!
    Iyyak

  11. I like the “King of Pain” reference. A hint as to how the hand was going? 🙂
    I love your writing, and thanks to far too many hours watching WSOP, I can even kinda keep up on the poker stories.
    Have a great trip to Gnomedex; can’t wait for those stories!

  13. Really nice story. I enjoyed reading it. I hated having to wait another day for the next part, but it probably added to the story so Im not going to complain. Keep’em comin’.

  14. I really enjoyed reading this. Weekend before last i was in the hospital of a Vid EEG (i dont recomend those, by the way. Pain in the ass), and mom and I killed time with Hold Em with M&Ms for betting.
    Sounds like you had a great time! Looking forward to your next adventure.

  15. Sounds to me like you were getting about 14:1 on your last call, Wil. Even if you figure you’re beat at that point, you’ve gotta think you have five outs (As & Ks), which is roughly 9:1. If you fold that regularly, you’ll lose money; and besides, you actually had more outs than that (I figure it eight, since if the two paired you’d have a higher two pair). While no limit and pot limit are games where the biggest mistake is a poorly-timed call, limit is definitely a game where the biggest mistake is usually a poorly-timed fold.
    As for whether or not you should’ve bet the flop… well, I’ve never been a fan of just overcards at a loose-passive game (shoot, someone could be playing 84o!). But aggressive is generally good. So don’t beat yourself up too much about that last hand.

  17. That was a really interesting story! I don’t know much about poker but that really kept me entertained. I’m kinda new here so the first post I’ve read of yours was Part 1. I think I’m going to stick around bit more now.

  18. WOW! WHAT A STORY! IT WAS LIKE I WAS THERE! THANKS WIL! I AM A POKER PLAYER TOO BUT NOT AS GOOD AS YOU. IT REMINDED ME OF THE FEW EPISODES IN TNG WHERE YOU ALL PLAYED POKER. THANKS
    PATRICK

  22. I don’t play poker and I don’t understand much of the strategies you describe but you are a fabulous story teller. You do great biography work on people you don’t know. Congratulations on not loosing money !!

  23. yep, fetters and chains baby, fetters and chains.
    First, I’ll say some of what others say. You pace your stories very well. Us reader folks can really ‘get into’ the story. Always a good job.
    Now, about poker. I don’t have nearly the experience you do, but I feared the Diane/Jennifer from your foreshadowing earlier in the story. She was just too cool about it all. Perhaps it was because she had no problem taking or leaving it. Her time limit was what she was playing against, not her stack, or even you. I think that made it harder for you to read her. (but hey, you tell me, cuz you were there, and I’m just an almost spectator). This doesn’t make her a good player, far from it, just a kind of player can’t read as well. You were sort of steaming in my opinion as well. What’s a less intense version of steaming? You made an emotional decision to stay at the table. You knew better, and it cost you. But hey, you know all that, so why am I talking about it? Well, I guess because I’d bet you forget this again a few more times before you win the WPT. 🙂
    great story mr. wil.

  24. Great story! I loved coming back every day to read the new chapters. Looking forward to more. From your first description of Diane I actually felt my scalp tingle with warning signals–‘Look out for this one, Wil.’ I said out loud to my empty apartment, ‘She’s going to be tough to beat!’
    I have never, NEVER talked back to a story I was reading before. It was pretty amazing. And a little disconcerting. Great writing.

  25. You still were ahead $27 so good on ya Wil! Lessons learned are more important than the loot. I’ve lerned that even though I don’t gamble.
    Have a wonderful weekend Wil.

  27. Yup, what everyone else has been saying: great story! You tell a very captivating and entertaining tale, and it’s lot’s ‘o fun to read. Have fun at Gnomedex!

  29. Excellent story!
    Well, look at it this way… you got some good entertainment playing, your readers got some good entertainment reading about it, and you walked out with enough for a dinner & beer. Not too bad of a night!

  30. You were playing against tourists and the temptation was there just on the basis she was on her way out I would have been handing over my chips as well :p
    Just note this – you started out witha great BB and SB to set you up AND how many people get a few hours poker lessons at the Mirage and walk away having paid for it?!
    Great ending to a great story. Love the poker tales.
    Pete

  31. It’s good to see that one of my favorite actors as a child (I’m 25 now, right in the heart of NextGen and old favs such as Toy Soldiers and Stand By Me) turned into such a damn good writer. I will definately be buying your books now.
    Quick question tho.. why no RSS feed?
    — Chris

  32. Great conclusion to a fun story. When Dianne flopped two pair and checked it, it was perfectly reasonable for you to think the flop had missed her. When she checked again on the turn, she looked like someone who didn’t have a hand and was hoping for a free card. When she then check-raised, she looked like someone who didn’t know how to play – or was just taking a shot in the dark with her last checks at buying the pot. She certainly didn’t strike me as someone who would set a conscious trap, so I can fully understand why you called her; I probably would have done the same.
    The lessons learned will probably be worth much more in the long run than the extra $73 you could have walked away with. But in any case, we WWdN readers are winners because we got to read your excellent recounting of your experience. Thanks again!

  33. Wow. Great finish to a great story, Wil. Glad you came out ahead, even though you didn’t catch your cards on that last hand. Coming out ahead isn’t anything to sneeze at, given the temptation of staying in just “one more hand” to try and hit the big pot.
    Have fun at Gnomedex!

  34. Wil,
    I don’t play poker, I don’t understand poker and had no clue what you were talking about BUT you had me hooked. Great story Wil. Would you please hurry up and write a movie script or something. You really have a gift.
    ~Heather

  35. Great story. I defintiely need to start reading up on more limit hold-’em. I read sklansky, but I need to read some of the others. CLoutier is a good read but it’s all no-limit and I’m CERTAINLY not good enogh to play no limit for real money yet.
    I hope you write some sort of poker story (true or fiction) someday. You have a real knack for it, for drawing the reader into the action.

  38. hey Wil,
    Thanks for the great poker story! I love coming to your site but this week, you made each trip worthy of anticipation of my next time here reading about your adventures!
    ~~Linda

  40. Great story Wil. Definitely gave me more things to think about at tonight’s game at my friend’s place.
    I’ve been chomping at the bit waiting for this final chapter to yet another great poker story.
    Have a great weekend.

  41. I just started reading your blog, which I found through the way-cool RSS/Blog site Bloglines. Your poker story has been a highlight of the week for me. Keep the great stories coming!

  42. That ending was worth the wait. As I predicted, it looks like you went on tilt there (spurred on by the voice of Mr. T), but recognized what was happening and ejected while you were still ahead. And hey, you finished up $27 after 2 1/2 hours, which is better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick any way you look at it.
    I hope Jennifer reads this story; I think she’d like it. Congratulations on the strong finish, and keep up the good work!

  43. Man.. I started playing poker a little while. I wouldn’t consider myself good by any stretch, but I remember the sheer terror I felt when I walked up to the booth at The Luxor a few months back to play hold ’em there. My knees were shaking before I even got to sit down.
    The were giving “lessons” daily there, so I decided that it would be a good idea to do that. It was fun, and the table was about the same. Quite a few people that would pay to see the flop and a few that would go heads up with you just to see your cards.
    By the end, I resolved that I want to go back and spend more time on my game. If you’re in Seattle, you have a standing invite to our home games. We usually end up drinking a lot, but the poker is fun and more than a little competetive.
    Nice work on the story.. you have a gift.

  47. My inner Admiral Akbar screams, “IT’S A TRAP!!” But my inner Lando Calrissian says, “Here goes nothing,”…
    Holy sh*t! Laugh-out-loud funny. Made my day, thanks.

  48. Great story, Wil! I really enjoy the way your write!
    Have a great time at Gnomedex!
    Thanks again, for everything! 🙂 You rock! Looks like we’re naming another kitten after you! Wesley Crusher has a little brother that looks just like him! My daughter says we should name him Wil after you! You can see his picture here: http://www.livejournal.com/users/rambeaux/46400.html

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