Redirecting

Tuesday, January 17, 2006

Six Sigma Sunday

Sunday @ 10am, Dirty Dave woke me as he got up to go hit the Caribe Cafe. I could only utter one desperate word as I lay there feeling like my eyes were bleeding: "MEDIC!" I dragged myself out of bed, scrubbed up, and we threw down the Caribe Cafe brunch print. I went with the Buffalo chicken sandwich, while Dave chose the chicken fried steak.

As he left Pure the night before, Dirty Dave had pulled off the "what the fuck?" move of the weekend, by taking two full cups of Makers Mark out with him. He then bought a bottle of water, drank the water, and transferred the Makers into the plastic bottle with a cap. Of course, no one had any desire to drink this Makers Mark, but Dave couldn't bring himself to throw it away - he recognizes EV when he sees it!

Dave, Big Show and Craig headed over to Caesar's for a shave, but I had one thing on my mind: more poker. I threw my name on the 2-5NL list - for once there was an early game going, and I sat in the $5-$10 Omaha high-low full kill rock garden while I waited.

I lost 1/4 of my stack when I made an underfull, and was down to $60 from my $200 buy-in when my J-T-x-x flopped J-J-T with two hearts. I managed to triple up in this hand, which is incredible considering how rocky the game was: One opponent had TT, and the other had AA with the flush draw.

I was called for the 2-5NL game, but I was playing out the remainder of the hands until my big blind in the O8 game. I noticed some commotion around the 2-5NL table, but couldn't fully comprehend the situation until I actually sat down.

Six-sigma is a term used to describe a situation that is six standard deviations away from the mean in a normal distribution. It happens, roughly, NEVER. It's basically the perfect storm. This game was at least Six Sigmas.

Here is the cast of characters:

Seat 2: Chester: The apparent leader of this posse, dressed in an immaculate $5k looking Armani suit, with slicked back black hair.
Seat 4: The Button Man: One of Chester's henchmen: looks just like WWE's John Cena, but he's a little taller and thinner - wearing a slick dark suit, with a short tuxedo tie. He's trashed and relatively quiet, until Chester gives him the order to assassinate someone.
Seat 7: Avi: Chester's half-brother. He's a jovial guy, dressed down, and, like the others, wasted. Avi is moving all-in blind almost every hand, and having a blast.
On the rail: Darren : Chester's muscle. This guy is a giant Samoan/Hawaiian sounding guy with a shaved head. He's just come back from fighting for the Country, and is very drunk and emotional.

We can't figure out what the deal with Chester and his posse is. Guesses range from actor/model, to Albanian arms dealers, to Persian Playboys, to internet millionaires.

I sit down in seat 8, right next to Avi, and within 3 minutes he's picked up on my Red Sox hat and Patriot's sweatshirt. He's laughing and joking with me about the tough loss, and he grabs a USC hat off of the head of a guy on the rail and throws it on my head. "Now you're the ULTIMATE loser!" he says, and I laugh with him. He's throwing chips around like they're confetti, and I want a piece.

There's a guy in the 3 seat with about $3k, and he gets up and leaves. Avi takes his seat, next to Chester. Chester has racks and racks of chips on the table. The game has a $500 max buy-in, but Chester had $4k on the table. He's drunk, but pretty subdued and calm, compared to his brother Avi. Chester will call Avi's all-in bets with any two cards, but will not make crazy blind moves himself.

A guy who looks like Freddy Deeb with hair sits down in the now vacant 7 seat, and immediately wakes up to KK. Avi pushes all-in, and Deeb calls. He gets stacked when Avi's 5-8 flops trip fives. Deeb takes it well and rebuys. He gets all-in against Avi again, with A-K vs Avi's 6-8. Avi flops two pair and stacks him. Deeb rebuys. Deeb gets all in again with A-Q vs Avi's Q-8. Avi hits another 3-outer, spiking an 8, and liquidating Deeb for a 3rd time.

Holy cow: talk about a tough series of beats. Deeb rebuys again, and manages to double through Avi when he finds A-J, which holds up for a change.

Every 5 hands or so, one of Chester's boys spills a glass of champagne on the table. They are drinking Dom, and Avi starts drinking it directly from the bottle. Darren, on the rail, is flipping out, telling Chester he doesn't care about the money - he wants to go home and see his babies. It's impossible to describe how ludicrous this scene was: the big muscle man crying on the rail - I'm not sure what kind of influence he was under, but I think he also had some kind of post-traumatic stress disorder from his service at war. He came over to me, and I offered a sympathetic ear, lest I provoke him to crush me with his bare hands (more like PAWS).

"I've seeeeen things. I've touchhhhhhed things.. I've smeelllllllled things... You can't even imagine. And now I come back here and it's all gone - I used to have money like him (points at Chester) - but I lost it all," I'm just standing there wide-eyed, nodding "I hear you Brother," and hoping he won't snap on me.

Darren puts his two index fingers on my chest and asks "Can you feel this power man? Can you feel the power?" "Fuck yeah man," I tell him. "That's from Japan. Korea. China." he tells me. I'm not sure if i'm dreaming or not.

He wanders back to the other side of the table, and Big Show walks into the poker room. I'm babbling like a kid about how this is the most ridiculous scene I've ever imagined, but Big Show can't comprehend until he sees it for himself.

I have to muck A-Q when Avi moves all-in and gets called before me - The caller was Deeb with A-K, which of course was cracked by A-6. I then mucked A-J suited when Avi moved all-in again, and a player called before me with QQ. Another guy woke up behind me with KK and tripled up!

I find KK UTG and raise to $25. It's folded around to Avi, and he smiles at me. "Let's do it, "I goad him, and he says "All-in." I call and double up.

Now, a dude in a striped shirt, who Chester is calling "Stripes" is sitting in the ten seat, and he's done something to get on Chester's bad side, but no one knows what. Chester tells him "Hey - Stripes - I just want you to know - I'm gonna knock you out - you're leaving here with us." He's not talking about a tournament knock-out: he's talking about a right hook knock out. "Darren - get that guy," he tells the big guy, and now things are getting really freaky. Darren is off on a tangent, so the Button Man comes over to Stripes: "Stand up - I'm gonna knock you out. Stand Up!"

The Mirage floor staff does a terrible job handling this situation, and pretty much ignores it. The Button Man starts asking everyone "are you with this guy?" while pointing to Stripes. We all deny it, fearing we'll get shanked in the liver or slapped in some sort of choke hold if we're with Stripes.

We deal another hand (we're playing less than 15 hands per hour) and I peer down at AhTh in the BB. There are 3 limpers, and I whisper to Big Show, pondering if I am committed to call if Avi moves in blind here. Avi instead raises to $80, and it's called once before it gets to me. I call, and two more players call behind me. Everyone wants to see a flop!

The flop comes T-7-5 rainbow, and I bet out $200. Two folds to Avi, who smooth calls. The SB folds.

The turn is another ten. I now bet out $300, and Avi looks at me. I give him the thumbs up, and he calls.

The river is a 4, and I have $380 left, which I miscount $370, and move all-in. Avi consults his cards again. He asks how much it is. I count it down again, to $375. He asks again, and I realize I have 5 $1 chips, which play, and I throw them in and say "Three Eighty." He has absolutely nothing unfortunately, and folds. I now have $1500.

I get one more big chance to crack Avi, when I limp with T-9 and he limps too. The flop comes J-Q-K with two clubs. There are 4 in the pot, and I am on the button. I bet out $80 into a $20 pot, and Avi calls. The cutoff thinks for a few before mucking. Holy cow - I'm feeling this - this is gonna be it: I'm gonna double up this now significant stack.

The turn is the single worst card in the deck for me: the ten of clubs. Avi now moves all-in, and I cannot call. He flips up 5-8 with the 5 of clubs, and we laugh about it.

Just when I thought this situation couldn't get any more sigmas from normal: with 50 people on the rail, blind all-ins every hand, two players physically threatening another while drinking Dom Perignon straight from the bottle, a completely ignorant Mirage staff, and me wondering if I'm dreaming - Jerome Bettis on the television compounds the impossibility of everything by fumbling on the goal line with Pittsburgh up by 3 and 1:40 left in the game @ Indy. More sigmas: Ben Roethlisberger makes an improbable game saving tackle, and Indy misses the game tying field goal attempt when Vanderjagt shanks it: his first missed postseason kick ever at home.

Now, Chester stands up, and tells the dealer to "get the fuck up," so he can sit next to his pal, Stripes. The dealer declines, but still doesn't get the floor involved! At this point, a young local sitting between me and Stripes calls the floor over and says that she should have security at the table if she's going to allow the game to go. The floorperson, who shall remain nameless even though she was completely incompetent and wrong, replies "It's one or the other: if I call security, they'll be kicked out."

Chester sits back down and is eyeing me. He turns to Avi and says "What's up with Boston?" Avi says "He's ok - he's with us." "You're ok," Chester tells me. I blurt out "Whoo! I'm not on the hit list?" And clap my hands loudly as I pump my fist. Chester eyes me suspiciously, and I give him the thumbs up... His attention wanes.

Now, it's 2:45 and I have to be out of my room by 3pm, but I don't want to leave the game. I eventually do a super-speed sortie to the room to jam my stuff into my suitcase, and return with my bag, fighting through the crowd 4 deep around the table to find that the Big Show is seated right next to me in the 7 seat now. I have my camera, and Avi is drinking Dom from the bottle. I ask him if I can take a picture, and he smiles and says "absolutely." Before I can even turn the camera on, Darren, on the rail, freaks out again, and screams/grunts "AVI - NO PICTURES!" The lady in the one seat is starting to get scared, and Chester tells her, "Don't worry, he's big, but he's just very emotional right now."

The Button Man comes back again, asking if we're with Stripes. He's been asking this non-stop every few minutes for the last hour. We continue to deny it. I only know "Stripes" from having seen him in the poker room over the course of the past 3 days. He sarcastically says "Thanks for the backup," and I tell him, "Hey man - no need for all of us to get killed. Just don't go to the bathroom by yourself."

Eventually, it all catches up with Chester's posse, and they decide to leave the game. Chester racks up $6k, most of which he's taken from Avi, and they disappear into the crowd. The game breaks almost instantly, but not before I find AA on the button 4 handed... 10 minutes too late.

It's really hard to do this game justice in words. I tried to get a picture, but figured I wouldn't be able to type it up with a broken arm if Darren got mad at me for taking it. If you imagine Quentin Tarantino filming a poker game in the style of the acid-induced scenes in Natural Born Killers, all compounded by a 3 day Vegas binge, you can try to build a picture in your mind.

Big Show and I went to rock the Mirage Pai Gow game for 1/2 hour before I had to head out to the airport for my flight home.

Trip Totals:

Thursday IP Double Deck BJ: -$264
Friday AM 1-2NL Mirage: -$200 1 hour
Friday AM 1-2NL/2-5NL Mirage: -$400 9 hours
Friday night Harrah's Texas Holdem Bonus Table Game: -$180
Friday night Harrah's Roulette: -$20 (Martingale attempt with remainder of Hold'em buy-in
Friday night Harrah's Pai Gow: +$40
Friday night IP Double Deck BJ: +$514
Saturday 2-5NL Mirage: +$385 6 hours
Saturday night IP Double Deck BJ: +$88
Sunday 2-5 NL Mirage: +$1065 4 hours
Sunday Mirage Pai Gow: $+45
Football Pnl: zero (SEA/CAR cancel out NE)

Hours of poker played: 20
Games played: 1-2NL, 2-5NL, 6-12 limit (back to the roots!), 5-10 O8 full kill
Times stacked with A-Q: 1
Times stacked with small suited connectors or one gappers: 2 (4-5s, 4-6s)
Quads flopped: 1
Straight Flushes rivered: 1
Net Poker PnL: +$850
Net overall PnL: +$1073

Playing in the most insane poker game I've ever been a part of on Sunday: priceless.

-KD

2 comments:

Huge Junk said...

I've spent a few minutes performing the math on this, and I think I have it to within one dollar.

The approximate price of a water bottle full of Maker's Mark, purchased originally at a nightclub in Las Vegas, is $3,450.58

Tell your buddy he played that one correctly.

Twin C said...

Nice recaps!

Looks like I'm going to get the opportunity to check out the Mirage myself - I think I'm heading to Vegas at the end of February for a few days. My girlie will be there, but I should be able to get a night or two of poker in.

See you at your table soon!