Thanksgiving in London

A flurry of activity in the last two days, highlighted by my return to the Gutshot and Thanksgiving in London.

Pictures will have to come later as I don’t have any ability to use my laptop right now.  Let’s see, where to begin.  Wednesday I gained approval to head into London for a trip to the Gutshot.  Relatively spur of the moment, so I booked a room for £70 near the Gutshot.  Made it to the train station in time to watch the train leave and have to wait thirty more minutes for the next one, two trips on the Tube brought me to King’s Cross, then I figured out how to find the hotel/closet.  Then a mad dash of twenty minutes that I thought was going to be five, and there was the Gutshot.

They’ve expanded their operation, so a tourney was brewing in a big open room next door.  I think ninety players or so were in the £20+10 rebuy NLHE event.  Ten players huddled around round tables named for illustrious World Series champions (I started at the Ungar table).  We started with T1500, and I was able to chip up fairly early.  I don’t remember much until the last hand before the rebuy ended.  There was one maniac to my right who had been playing fairly recklessly.  The fact that he weighed twice what I do made it easy to remember him.  There were two limpers with blinds at 100/200, and I made it 1200 to go with A-10, assuming I would take it down there as no one would want to risk this.  He calls me, and the flop comes 9-7-6, all clubs.  He pushed all-in for a final 1800, and I had a read that he had nothing but a draw.  I didn’t have a club, but I just felt like I should make the call.  It would put me in great shape heading into the next round, although he had me covered by about 100.  I called, and he showed Jc-10d, then a jack spiked on the turn.  I knew this had paired him, but somehow after the river came I misread the board and thought that we both had the same straight for some reason.  That’s happened a couple of times when I’ve gotten caught up to on a turn or river, where my brain somehow rewired itself. 

I rebought and received 2000 in chips, with the blinds now up to 125/250.  I grabbed 500 quickly then our table broke and I came into the bb with the blinds up to  150/300.  I had 78, and an 8 high flop came with three limpers.  I bet 1k and had one caller, then ace spiked on the turn.  I bet out with my last 1k only to see the caller flip over AA for a nice knockout limp.  More than a man than I am.

I headed back to the main Gutshot and made my way down to the basement.  I bought in for £50 at the £1/1 Pot Limit Holdem game.  Pot Limit is the toughest of the three games IMO.  To win a sizable pot, you have to play after the flop and even to showdown often.  It was a table of big swings, with tons of pot-size raises early.  One hand two guys called a guy’s re-pot raise blind when it got to them, and the kings held up over J-7o and 7-9.  The hand of the night was Aces getting cracked by kings and eights (both flopped a set).  I made a nice play with A-Ko, grabbing all my chips and pushing them in with three limpers in front of me.  The dealer laughed, asked me if I was from America, I told him I didn’t realize we were playing pot-limit, and he took my raise out and gave the rest of my chips back.  Well, a young guy then grabbed his stack, put them across the line on the felt, then took the eleven pounds out as a call and took his chips back.  He didn’t realize that he’d actually raised, and once the dealer explained it, he said, “Well, I’ll never do that again.”  Which I interpreted as “Please reraise so that you can take the pot.”  Which I did, and I did.

The only other notable hand for me was a re-raise with 99, four calllers (£55 pot), J comes on the flop, I bet £18 (hoping to look like a please-call-me bet), then everyone fold.  One guy said he folded tens and says he thought I had flopped a set of jacks, which was fine by me.  I ended up telling him I had an overpair, and he told me he should have potted me. 

I ended up +£127 for the cash game, bringing the net including the tourney at +£67.  I didn’t get to find Pinky (tried to but had no mechanism to get his emails).  I took a cab back to the hotel rather than walking, getting there around 3:00 and falling asleep at 4:45 or so.  This place was beyond spartan:  no toiletries, you couldn’t receive phone calls, I could touch both walls if I spread my arms out.  I was awakened at 9:10 by the front desk, who told me that my wife had called and they would be getting in at 9:30.  I closed my eyes, then woke up and looked at the clock on the TV, and it read 9:13.  Well, when I got the call, I thought it said 8:10, so I thought I’d slept for an hour!  I showered (bought shampoo in a vending machine when I came in), dressed, and sprinted out with my laptop and a bag weighing about thirty pounds.  Sprint to the Tube, two trains, and I frantically make it to Waterloo station looking for Sweetie.  But she’s not there.  Long story short, she was on the 9:30 departing train, and Sweetie, All-In, and the Little Guy emerge around 10:20.  The Big Guy went to school with K at his International School, so it was just the four of us.  

Pictures will follow, but it was a great day of Buckingham Palace, a $100 lunch for four at Planet Hollywood (never good to decide where to eat when you’re starving), and The Little Guy’s obsession, the Double Decker Bus tour.  He’d been talking about Double Decker Buses for two months, and we all delightedly froze in the autumn air.  Another beautiful day, though, and it was a neat way to see alot quickly. 

Off to the shower, so I’ll give you more later.  Hope everyone can’t move from all the turkey and dressing/stuffing.  Have a great day as we head to the Tower of London.