At tourney time, I drew seat 3 at table 1. On my right was a portly gentleman probably around my age. He’d settled in with a service table and his accouterments as though he expected to be there a while. On my left was a younger lad, very typical of younger lad poker players.
The rest of the table was a mix of intense, rough looking and quizzical.
I donked my way to the break without having to rebuy. Thanks to a shorstack gamble right before the break I padded my stack up to about T-9,700. I made a crying call on a gut-shot draw and hit it on the turn. I can imagine the invectives the kid wanted to hurl at me after getting busted by that donkey call. Hee-haw.
I got my comeuppance later with cards that were shipped in from Siberia and playing too much by the book. I should have kept donking along. Two hands worthy of a knife, rope and 2×4 would have had me tripling up each (sextuptling up???) had I played them.
I busted way out of the money (top 9 paid out of around 73 players).
The hospitality for the tourney was excellent, by the way. We were fed Texas BBQ at the break and the staff was very accommodating.
I sat at a 1.2 NL game with Jason, Jeremy and new Pokeratizen Michele Lewis. It was clear right off the bat that this was no ordinary table in no ordinary poker room.
Responding to a friendly dig from the 1 seat, the dealer turned to him and uttered, “Fuck you, don’t mess with me, I’m tired.” Attitude – bad ass dealer attitude. Sweet. Revenge of the dealers. I liked it.
In fact, the room was rife with attitude. This was a close knit group of comrades sharing their pursuit for a passion – willing to risk incarceration for it, no less. In-jokes and their own peculiar language of sorts, spoke to the comraderie. No punches were pulled.
In fact, at one point, it was announced “If you are easily offended, then you will be offended!” Nothing was off limits. Nothing.
Case in point: the lengthy discussion of the penis-shaped water stain on the felt after Michele spilled her water….. And certain discussions with Jews as the subject.
I played a couple of hours, adding about $115 to my bankroll. I lingered for the final table and watched as a guy known as Austin Pete come from behind and take it down.
I then said my farewells and toddled off to hotel down the street to put my tired head to a pillow and sail off to dreamland.
A big thank you to Dan for inviting me down! I had a great time with a fun group of people. I’m just exasperated that governments – state and federal – expend so much effort to prevent everyday folks from pursuing this bit of constitutional happiness.
The people who came to play were your neighbors, your business people, your Rotarians, your dentists, doctors, the kid who used to mow your lawn, professionals – all familiar faces who are good people who just want to play cards.
Just give us our game, please. Just give us our game.