Saturday, March 25, 2006


It's official. I have NOT retired from poker.

email conversation last week with the Vortex:

KD: "You play at all live lately? I talked to Chris and I hear the game has been going strong and SICK!"

Vortex: "I was there last night."

KD (starting to TILT): "WHAT? Details please?"

Vortex (taunting me): "Crazy game. {proceeds to name a plethora of donators}

KD (Fully TILTed): "Aiyahh! I'm on high TILT right now. I want to play so bad, but I have to take care of my puppy after work."

Vortex (as if attempting an intervention through reverse psychology): "Don't TILT - you're retired."

No fuckin' way baby. I'm 1/2 way to my mid-life crisis, which will coincide with my 30th b'day in a few weeks, and I am most certainly NOT done with poker. Just because I have to take care of my baby when I get home

doesn't mean I'm not thinking about poker way more than any normal person should.

Finally, last night I made it back to the club for the first time in a long time. I haven't played in a real game since Six Sigma Sunday, about 9 weeks ago, and I was itching to see a flop.

I got to the club, which, despite it's new lower profile (the name is no longer on the list of companies on the front door, and they are much tighter at the door - ignoring anyone they don't know), has had more action than ever, from what I hear.

I hit the buzzer and look up at the camera.


Again. Buzzzzz... Pause.... Nothing.

Someone is leaving the building, and I sneak in as he exits. I take the elevator up to the club, and buzz the next door.


I buzz again. Finally Asian Paul comes to let me in. I walk in and see Eddie on the phone. I give him two middle fingers, and a "What the fuck? Do you know who the fuck I am?"

"Sorry - I didn't recognize you - none of us did."

Jeez. Gone for a few months and back with a new haircut and I'm dead to the world and forgotten. Unreal.

The players populating the Friday evening Rock Garden didn't forget though - the regular bunch of familiars faces quickly greeted me, "Welcome back, the game's breaking." I laughed and bought chips.

Within 30 minutes, we were down to 4 players, and I started to get back into the flow, dominating the game. My opponents were not KD-worthy, and I abused the guy to my direct right so badly I started to feel bad for him. I won every fucking pot I played with him. Bluff. Value bet. Value call. Everything.

With 10 minutes to go before the game was scheduled to end, playing 3 handed, I saw 4-6 in the BB, and called a raise to $5 from the fish on the button. The SB came along for the flop of 4-4-A.

SB checked, I bet out $15, and the button called. Nice. This will work out nicely when he gets committed to his ace.

Turn: offsuit jack - no flush possible. I bet $30. He calls.

River: 9. I bet $50. He moves all in for a total of $78: $28 more. I call, still fully expecting my hand to be good, and he turns over... FRIDAY IN VEGAS! Pocket jacks! How fuckin' poetic. Trumped by my signature hand on my triumphant return to the felt.

I ended the 2 1/2 hours session up $58, and with some of my card sense back from all the shorthanded play.

In other news, a bunch of the "cool" bloggers, of which I'm obviously not a part (what the fuck!?) are going to the Playboy Mansion this weekend! Unreal. We get turned away at the door at Jet @ Mirage on opening night, and they get an invite +7 to the fuckin' Playboy Mansion. Aiyahh! At least Dr. Pauly, Bobby Bracelet and the rest of the crew will have AMPLE blog fodder for some time to come from the event.

until next time,

1 comment:

Blonde said...

Happy Birthday!!!! I had my midlife crisis on my 30th bday. I started drinking with friends at 9am, bought an overpriced convertible sportscar and had a fling with a 23 y.o. pro hockey player all that day. Enjoy the shit out of it because it is all downhill from 30.

I melt over every pic of your dog. Oscar is the ultimate chick magnet.