Once again confirming the old adage "Never trust a Russian":
At a meeting of American business executives and Putin on Saturday in Russia, according to Russian news reports, Kraft showed his 4.94-carat, diamond-encrusted 2005 Super Bowl ring to the Russian president, who, after trying it on, put it in his pocket and left.
It seems that Jim McManus, poker player and author, is writing a "poker journal" for the New York Times. His first entry, dated June 23, 4:31pm, appeared this morning. Perhaps this is the pot calling the kettle black, but man is it yawn-inducing. Yes, he's writing for a broad audience that may not be as familiar with poker, tournament poker, and the World Series of Poker as the average poker blogger, but couldn't he at least liven it up a little bit? He should take a nod from Nurse Pauly and provide some local color. I'm sure NYT readers would be quite interested in the urination habits of Vegas crack whores as opposed to, say, those found in the South Bronx.
Note to Jim: the photo of you throwing the ace, three and six of spades in the air is, in the vernacular of fifteen-year-olds everywhere, "super gay".
Thought I'd sit down for the first time in a looooooooong time tonight for a $20 MTT on Party. First ten minutes, I lose my entire stack with a horrific misplay of AK from early position. I mean, just bloody awful. Tonight, I was a big fat Party Poker Fish, and I wish I could explain why.
Blinds 10/15, I open for 75 from early position with AKo. Two late position callers for a flop of 2-3-6, two clubs. Here's the danger of AK out of position. I've missed, and in order to win this pot, I have to fire a round into the ether and hope nobody is willing to chase overs (entirely possible on this board) or has a wired pair.
One guy calls, so now I'm already in for 1/4 of my starting stack. I should have shut down when the turn came 9c. But no, I stubbornly have to try to buy it again, betting 300 and now putting over half my stack in - with nothing! Surprise, surprise, I get popped to 600. I have 0 folding equity, because he only has 120 behind the raise (this should have been another big fucking warning sign - the fact that he didn't put his whole stack in). Since I held the Kc, I just shrugged and pushed. He called, turned over 66 for a flopped set and leaving my 8 outs, none of which hit on the river. I went out in the first ten minutes and I wanted to go slice open my wrists for such retarded play.
I'd like to think I'm better than that, but tonight, it seems, I wasn't. Is it rust from not having played any MTTs in a while? Sheer stupidity? Who knows. Just call me Dead Money.
If you're not already aware (and really - how can you not be?) Dr. Pauly is helping the Poker Prof and Flipchip to provide some of the best WSOP content available on the web. Check out these sites for yourself:
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Maybe I should have been playing the Razz Bracelet Race every Thursday night for the last two and a half months. I sat down for Attempt Number Four on Thursday, and made the final table again. After the third break, five remained, average stack size 6 big bets. I had 5. Five minutes later, I was out in fifth. Still, two for four on final tables in this tournament. Something tells me if I had really concentrated on improving my razz game the last two months and taking down this tournament, I could have done it.
The final hand was ugly and shows just how far my razz game hasn't come. Limits were 2k/4k (ante ?), and I started with 7-T / 2. I completed the bring-in into one low card behind me, who raised me to 4k.
First mistake: I called. Against this guy, I should have thrown it away. A raise from this player signified a solid three-card hand, and I was sitting on a lousy three-card ten. But no, I called, hoping he'd catch bad to my good and I could take down the pot on fourth street. In fact, he DID catch bad (a queen) to my good (a four). The problem was that he didn't fold on fourth, and managed to draw into a 7 by sixth street. I knew I was sunk when he raised me on the river, but by then almost my whole stack was in. I had no choice but to call with my piddling 10.
One shot left.
AC Snapshot - When I saw the sign, I had to rub my eyes to make sure it didn't say "$1,000 + 50". As you can see, it did not. Just another example of Harrah's continuing efforts to give poker players the proverbial shaft, in this case in an attempt to maximize the World Series "brand". Seriously, folks, you're better off trying to qualify online, where the juice for a similar tournament will be more along the lines of $10 and where the field will probably pay out a greater number of seats. No need to encourage more of this type of behavior from Harrah's.
[Ed. note: This is the ninth in an ongoing series of reviews of the major New York City Poker Rooms, half of which have now been CLOSED by the NYPD for one reason or another. Bastards. Due to the quasi-legality of these games, no room will be mentioned by name or specific address. While I realize these restrictions limit the usefulness of the reviews, I also respect that most of these rooms are trying to operate without drawing much attention to themselves. Anyone interested in learning more specifics about any club should contact me directly.]
Two weeks ago, I heard about a brand new poker room in Manhattan. Since I'm perfectly willing to spread my poker business around in the name of shlock "journalism", I figured I should schedule a visit to get the lay of the land and take the temperature of the fish. Before I could get around to making the trip, my internet celebrity status caught up to me, as I received an email asking me to review the place.
Take that, McGrupp!
Incognito, lest my reviewer's impartiality be compromised (ha), SoxLover and I picked a day and time, chowed down on some Mexican (food, you perv, food), and then spent the rest of the night shooting fish. Bankrolls were padded, and a good time was had by all -- especially when the entire seven-handed table was straddling around to the button. I was busy the next day, but with a steel trap for a memory, pushing the review off until the weekend didn't figure to be much of an issue.
Then Lt. Pasquale Morena of the NYPD had to go and fuck everything up.
But I'm not here to bitch about the NYPD treating the NYC poker club operators like some sort of back alley abortionists. I'm here to review the newest room. So lets get on with it already.
This particular room is tucked away in a somewhat more quiet section of the city than the Players Club or Playstation. Because of the general paranoia in the community, I'm not going to be any more specific than to say that it is "near" Chinatown and point out that there's a rather amusing (and ironic) landmark across the street from the club. Typical set-up outside: a buzzer and camera with no label. The first night there, knowing the drill, I hit the button and SoxLover and I stared at the camera. The door opened a few moments later.
"Yes guys, what can I do for you?" said Russia's answer to Fred Gwynne. This guy would have been a standout on the Soviet volleyball squad. Or one of Stalin's death squads.
"We're here to play some cards," I replied.
Fred looked at me suspiciously. "Who sent you?" he demanded through his thick Russian accent. I felt that if I got the answer wrong, he'd spirit me away to the secret dungeons of the KGB, and even if I got it right, he might still skewer me just for fun. I produced the name of the individual who had emailed me, and that was good enough to get us in the door.
Inside, a black felt curtain partitions the main room from the front door area, where a flight of stairs leads up to a second level. Fred directed us behind the curtain, where we found an oasis of beauty and classiness awaiting us. Hardwood floors. Exposed brick running the length of one wall. Brand new padded felt tables (memory's a bit hazy, but I believe there were 6 or 8, with room for more). Three-bulb light fixtures hanging low over each table. Flat-panel televisions mounted on the walls. Even a private bathroom in the back, stocked with amenities a touch above the usual.
In a word, "class".
Two desks stood at the front of the club -- one which acted as the cage, and another which was used to take in new players. When all was said and down, SoxLover and I each had our own brand new membership cards for the club. One great thing about the painless application process: Alex, our host, asked us what types of games we prefer to play and made a note of it. I'm sure that most of what will be spread in the future is no-limit holdem, but it's good to see a club that cares enough to find out if there's enough viability for other types of games.
In addition to the street-level room, there were two additional rooms up the stairs near the front entrance. One serves as a lounge area, complete with stocked kitchenette, comfy couches, an expensive-looking billiards table with all requisite equipment, and two large windows looking down on the street. The other room, on the third floor, could possibly serve as an "overflow" poker room in the future, with enough room for an additional four to six poker tables. Someone definitely has grand plans for the club. Or at least, HAD grand plans until Lt. Morena started shutting clubs down.
There's more I could tell you about the table banter and table play, and I feel like I'm forgetting a few details, but I'm coming off a marathon session in AC and you probably don't care anyway. Let's just close this off with the scorecard:
Location: Two major subway lines are nearby. It's out of the way enough to hopefully not draw much unwanted attention, but not so far that you feel like you're on some sort of extended expedition to find it.
Hours: The stated hours are Monday to Friday, 5pm to 6am; Saturday and Sunday, 2pm to 6am. I imagine it's more like "from the time the first table gets going until the last breaks down". I was recently there at 8pm and one game of 1/2 NLHE was going, with a second game starting up shortly thereafter.
Club Atmosphere: Like I said, this place is extremely classy, on par and probably even surpassing the Midtown room I reviewed last January. Somebody has spend lots of time and money on making the place nice. There was even a little Scotty Nguyen figure in the faux fireplace the last time I was there. The players and employees I encountered on my two trips were quite laid back. All in all, a friendly place.
Quality of Play: It doesn't really change from club to club. Lots of bad play. Nowhere near the level of donkey play you'd see at the Borgata 1/2 NLHE table late on a Saturday night, but still pretty bad. Just pick your targets and you'll be fine.
Tournament Structure: To be honest, I'm not sure how well this club is doing in getting its tournaments off the ground. I saw one private tournament the first night I was there, but other than that it seems like none of the players are interested in playing tournaments. You might be better off hitting a different club for now, unless and until this changes.
Cash Games: The 1/2 NLHE tables are deep-stacked with a $500 max buy-in. There was a 2/4 limit game going the first night I was there at half-time ($2 per half hour instead of the usual $4) but no such game the second night I was there. The time charges were also raised to $5, after initially starting at $4. A minor thing, maybe, but slightly disappointing. Less competition? More risk? Who knows why they were raised.
Playerbase: My first trip to the club, about a week and a half after it opened, there were 16 NLHE players, a full table of 2/4 limit players, and a private tourney. My second trip, on the night the club reopened after the raid, it managed to pull in about 14 NLHE players before I left. These are good signs for a club that opened only four weeks ago.
Worth Your Time?: These days, you don't have many other choices. If you're looking for a replacement for NYPC or Playstation, you're just not going to find it -- clubs with that level of playthrough (in terms of numbers of tables and players) just don't exist in NYC right now. However, I think this club has a chance to do good things in the future, and if nothing else it is a GREAT environment. So, in short, yes, it's worth your time.
[UPDATE 07/30/05 -- More information on the club is now available (click through).]
Die by the hammer.
This was my first buy-in this weekend. A beautiful 7-2-5 rainbow flop turned into disaster. Even the muzak in the restroom where I sought solace afterwards burned me, crooning out the lyrics to Peter Gabriel's "Sledgehammer" in subdued mockery.
As SoxLover said, "You dropped the hammer on a rubber table, and it bounced back up and caught you square between the eyes."
Trip report coming as soon as I finish the NYC club review.
Hmm, just doesn't have the same ring, does it? Maybe that's because AC's such a shithole.
Regardless, I'm off this morning to relieve some tourists of their money, along with SoxLover and random other degenerate jagweeds. I'm bringing my laptop with me so that I can (hopefully) put the finishing touches on my latest poker review in the car - though given how much SoxLover talks, I'm sure I'll find it impossible to concentrate.
The bigger news - AC next weekend! The inimitable AlCantHang and the alluring MrsCantHang are making their semi-annual visit to America's Playground Junkyard By the Sea, and as everyone knows, where Al goes, so goes the party. Right now it's looking like the CantHangs, me, Derek, Bob, and Joaquin. However, I strongly encourage other East Coast bloggers in a four-hour radius (not naming any names, mind you) to get their asses to Atlantic City for what will, no doubt, be a rockin' good time. Email ACH for more information.
I spoke to the poker room at the Borgata yesterday and asked when they would be spreading satellites for the Borgata Open. The answer was pretty much what I expected: not until after the World Series. Last year, with the World Series in May, the satellites started in June. This year, it seems, they won't start until mid-July. That only leaves about 8 or 9 weeks to qualify, as opposed to the 13 or 14 last year. I wonder how that will affect the prize pools.
Read more...Rolling Stone has an article on "The Crew" (jumped the shark, anyone?). Here's a snippet relating to Dutch "Kill That Cat" Boyd:
Read more...
In the next two and a half years, Dutch's life became a nightmare of mental institutions, card rooms and casinos. At various times, he was living in fifteen-dollar-a-night Vegas flophouses or on Caribbean yachts...
But Dutch's psychotic episodes, mostly of the "let's take off our clothes and go naked" variety, had begun to get nastier, and backers were in short supply. Enemies weren't. "Dutch insulted some extremely fine and kind people," says Burton Ritchie, a Pensacola, Florida, cardplayer who says he spent months trying to arrange a deal between Dutch and a consortium of venture capitalists, Kansas City mobsters and NFL players. "Dutch signed a letter of intent and then went schizo. I'm sorry to hear he's bipolar, but he's also an asshole."
Improv Pimpage:
The bloggers are back from Vegas. I'm too lazy to link any of them. Pick a random link from the list on the right - the author of the corresponding blog was probably at the get-together.
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SoxLover finally went and got himself a blog. He calls it Fish Soup. For an asshat, he's a reasonably intelligent guy. I'm sure he'll have some interesting thoughts to post if he actually sticks with it.
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Hit my first losing day in a while on Full Tilt yesterday. Played a tourney with a cash game mentality and - surprise! - went out in Level 1 on a 50/50 when I missed. The post-flop call was +EV... if it had been a cash game.
Then 5/10 razz got going, but the two fish at the table lost their money too quickly and I wound up just grinding out a $20 loss over the course of about an hour and a half. I've read that this is the problem with razz -- that the fish have very little chance against skilled players, and they get carved up so quickly that they stop coming back.
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I'm really beginning to detest playing online. I think I just need the other players around me to make poker a more enjoyable experience.
To a cop, the explanation's always simple. There's no mystery to the street, no arch-criminal behind it all. If you find a body and you think his brother did it, you're gonna find out you're right.
--Verbal Kint, The Usual Suspects
Rooms are slowly opening back up. "Yes, we're open" seems to be the typical response on email and via phone. Two major clubs are out of business for now; all those players are going to have to go somewhere. How many of them are already members at other clubs? I have a feeling that the "open door" policy at some of these clubs is going to be much, MUCH tighter for a while.
Yes, yes, I suppose you could say the NYPD was just "enforcing the law". Sure they were. The thing is, it's common knowledge that the NYPD engages in selective enforcement of the laws. It's a simple question of efficient allocation of limited resources, combined with targetting the crimes that are most likely to beget other crimes. This begs the question:
Why enforce this law?
What does driving the rooms further underground accomplish? Is it a fear of organized crime? Loan sharking? The only relevant quote I could find is just as cryptic as most of the rest of what the NYPD had to say about the raid: "We realized that this was the start of a problem because there is lots of money involved," Lieutenant [Pasquale] Morena, [head of special investigations for the vice squad] said. "We don't know where the profits from the gambling are going." (New York Times)
Read that again. "We don't know where the profits are going." Excuse me, Lt. Morena, as I cough out a hearty "Bullshit." Does the NYPD ever know where the profits of any small business are going? Of course not! "Legitimate businessmen" have existed in this city for decades.
That's the real crux of the matter, though. Because New York considers poker to be "gambling", and because gambling is immoral and has been a hallmark industry of the mob for generations, the mob MUST be involved in this new wave of gambling. I'm not going to say that's not the case, because I sure as hell don't know, but would it be that hard to, I don't know, investigate that issue before shutting the clubs down? What's the harm in letting an honest guy run an honest club, where alcohol isn't served, where rude and/or violent behavior isn't tolerated, and where disruptive patrons are forced to leave?
There's more craziness to the story. Take a look at this quote from the Daily News:"More than a dozen other illegal poker clubs continue to operate in the city, police said."
Ok, if the NYPD knows about all of these other illegal clubs, it begs another question - why the hell weren't they shut down too? Doesn't this fear of "not knowing where the money is going" apply to the other clubs as well? This has been my argument from Day 1. The cops KNOW the clubs are there. As long as they keep a low profile, what's the big freakin' deal?
I smell a rat, and the rat smells like a socially conservative jagweed with a necklace/tie wrapped too tightly around his/her neck. Be that as it may, for now this is the state of affairs that we're stuck with.
I have a review pending of a brand new room that I visited for the first time last week - prior to the raid. A small part of me is a bit hesitant to put it up. Despite the fact that I've always been very vague about the location of the rooms I discuss on this site, I almost feel now like being "very vague" isn't vague enough. The first rule of Fight Poker Club, ya know?
Then there are the people who email me asking me where the rooms are. I have some general standards as to what I'll respond to and what I won't respond to, but should I just cut them all off entirely? That seems self-defeating to me; we want the games to be as well-populated as possible. Nobody wants to see the games shrivel up and die (except maybe some joyless police lieutenant) and nobody wants to see them banished into the gloomier corners of Gotham.
What a mess it all is. Sometimes it seems like it would be easier to just move back to LA.
Some of my friends are just nucking futty.
Where the Streets Have No Shame:
Charlie Todd is the creator of Improv Everywhere, a rotating cast of comedians, actors and other interested participants that travels around New York to carry out what he calls "missions" - bizarre, anonymous happenings such as staffing the restroom of Midtown McDonald's with a bathroom attendant, or performing a synchronized swimming routine in the fountain at Washington Square Park. When U2 announced that it would be playing a concert on May 21 at Madison Square Garden, just two blocks from Mr. Todd's apartment - and when the show sold out almost immediately - he conceived his latest mission. In the spirit of the band's impromptu public concerts, which include a famous rooftop concert for the video of "Where the Streets Have No Name," Mr. Todd planned a U2 concert for his own roof - with his own U2.
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