Of Poker, and Other Pursuits

I have recently been on a good run, having pulled out 9 and 12 racks from the 8/16 game at Bay 101. Well today, I beat them all. I increased my stake 21 times!

But first, a bad beat story. It's short. Your dollar is in the mail.*

Got aces. Flopped top set. Lost to runner-runner-flush to a guy with 10-7 off-suit who called three bets preflop AND called the flop with no draw.

See, that wasn't so bad. That bad beat story is short enough to tweet (which should be the criteria for all bad beat stories IMHO).

The end result was that my initial buy-in got down to 5 chips. Rather than reach for a re-buy, I dumped them into the big blind in much the same way people buy lottery tickets. Long story short, 5 limpers and I look down at AQ. I toss the extra chip into the pot. It checks around on the flop and turn. One bettor on the river gets called with pocket 6s, but I flopped an Ace and it was good for the main pot! WTF?!

From 5 chips to 30 chips. Sweet. Let it ride! I am in the small blind and call 1/2 a bet with rags, but I flop trips. I manage to get all my chips into the pot with a few callers along the way, and voilà, 21x. Of course, this basically gets me back my buy-in. I promptly racked up and called it a win. It almost felt better than dragging out 12 racks. Almost.

____

In other news, most of you know my passion for Ferrari. Before I owned the car, I did not own a single piece of Ferrari-related paraphernalia. Since that time, I bought a hat, a fleece jacket from my car club,** and a Ferrari key-chain.*** That's it. But, I've only really coveted one non-drivable Ferrari item, and never actually thought it would be mine. Until today.



* No, it isn't.

**We call ourselves FOG, for Ferrari Owners Group. It's apropos because we drive around San Francisco. Cute, eh?

***Since bequeathed to Drizz as my bust-out prize during the last WPBT. Still waiting on your visit so we can go busting through the Palo Alto hills, buddy.

Dream Rangers

Sometimes I wonder about the #wpbt. Will we still be together in 30 years? 40?

Give this video a minute. Epic.

MY Million Dollar Prop Bet

Editors Note: I may or may not believe any of this.

I'm fairly certain that 99% of my readers are already aware of the recent prop bet among a couple young poker phenoms, but for those that aren't, catch up here:

Part I

Part II

Today, I went for a nice 6 mile run (okay, it was 5.7 miles, but I'm allowed to round up). I often do creative thinking while running. I've made life decisions, wrote songs, and even invented a perpetual motion machine,* all while running. Today I wrote a blog post.

I love running. I hate when I've been away for a while and try to start up again, because I know that the first month or two will be painful. When you've run a couple marathons, struggling with 2 miles is embarrassing. But, after you get over the initial difficulties, it's fun seeing and tracking your progress. (As an aside, let me apologize once again for inundating you with all of the CardioTracker posts. I'm addicted to the stats, and I'm posting those on FB and Twitter mostly for myself).

As a poker player and amateur gambler, I love a good prop bet. Well, let me correct that. I love reading about a good prop bet. I was excited following Ted Forrest as he tried to lose a ridiculous amount of weight in order to win $2 million from Mike Matusow. He's had other legendary bets including running a marathon in the desert heat. Phil Laak stayed awake for a week playing poker. EDog walked 4 rounds of golf in Vegas. They all did it to win money and we loved watching it. You know what? Each of them could have died for their efforts. Some more than others, but there was an implied health risk in each situation in order to win money.

So, why was this running bet different?

It doesn't take a physician to realize that running 70 miles in 24 hours would put a terrible strain on your body. Believe me, I know what it can do. I will give you that this bet was probably more risky than the others. If you don't believe me, Google "rhabdomyolysis." But so what? Yes, he could have died. Yes, there was some terrific soul-searching on both bettors. Yes, if it was my son, I'd be terrified. Hell, if it was my son and he died, I would be devastated for the rest of my life. But you know what? I'd also be proud as hell. He died trying to prove himself. Isn't that what we all try to do in this life? How will we know what we're capable of if we don't push ourselves to the limit? I don't mean to overplay this, but isn't that the kind of stuff that we Americans envy? Isn't that what makes our country great? Could you imagine a young Iranian kid gambling for $1 million by running 70 miles? Only in America. Or maybe Canada (nah, they're probably too smart).

So, for those of you who argue that this was terrible, I want to know why. There is a very well reasoned blog post by my buddy Grange** who takes the side that this may have been a manifestation of mental illness, and worse, it was taking advantage of someone who is impaired. I'm not arguing that point. I used to play poker with Barry, a wonderful man about my age with cerebral palsy who seemed to have an endless supply of money and kept giving it away at the Muckleshoot Casino. I sat at his table many times, as did the whole poker community. It doesn't detract from the fact that I really liked the guy and would often chat with him away from the table. It's poker, and if you have it, I want it.

So, the argument is that this kid must have been mentally ill to attempt such a feat. What you're saying is that attempting something that has, not just a theoretical chance, but a very REAL chance of getting you killed, means you are mentally ill. Especially if it's for money. Well, you know what? I did the same thing. For $1 million. And guess what?

I won.

Like I said in the beginning of this post, most of my readers know me. For those that don't, or may have forgotten, let me refresh. It was 1988. Two years prior, I had dropped out of college and joined the Army. I chose the Army because it was the only branch of service that let me sign up for two years. I sure as hell wasn't staying in longer than that. But then, in 1988, I was given a choice. If you sign here on the dotted line, you'll commit yourself until 2008 (for those mathematically challenged, that's 20 years). And, BTW, if we go to war, you go too. You might get killed, but it's a risk we're willing to let you take. On the positive side, we'll give you $1 million dollars. It will be spread out over 20 years, but it's yours. Sign?

Of course, I signed. And, I did go to war. And I didn't get killed. And I got the dough. So, my question is, who is crazier, a kid who tries to prove himself by pushing the absolute limits of human endurance one time in a 24 hour stretch, or a kid who signs up 20 years of his life and agrees to fight in wars that he may or may not believe in?

I know I'm a little crazy, too. I guarantee you this: he and I both acknowledged the risk, but it really didn't factor into the decision (Me: I can do this! My Brain: Really, how do you know? Me: Only one way to find out.)

I also know that if I'm going to war (or doing anything that takes risk and determination), I want that kid on my side. Every time.


* I am almost embarrassed to tell you how much time I have devoted to inventing a perpetual motion machine. Think hundreds of hours. Thousands, probably.

** who, BTW, is going to lose a bunch of dough to me on a distance-running prop bet. There's irony!

Ferrari Run!

I've been hesitant to post anything Ferrari-related after the last dust-up, but you know what? It's what I love. It's my passion, and it's my blog, dammit. Don't like it? Don't read it.

Today was an amazing run. The weather here is spectacular* and the old crowd, as well as a bunch of newbies, came out of the woodwork. We had 30 cars in all. 27 were Ferraris, but there were two Jags and a Lambo rounding out the bunch. There is no pretentiousness in this group. We call ourselves FOG (Ferrari Owners Group), but we love it when other interesting or classic cars show up. Today we had a few special treats, including one car** worth more than all the others. Combined. Several times over, in fact. These folks just love cars. No way they're going to let these beauties sit in a garage, ala Cameron's dad.

We drove over Mt. Tam in Marin county and waved at our friend Dacia, who it apparently hiking up there today (Hi, Dacia!) and then stopped for brunch at Murray Circle, in Sausalito. What an amazing place! Great food with great people. I'm still smiling.

Enjoy the pics.






*I figured if people are pissed I'm writing about my Ferrari, they might as well be REALLY pissed so I'll brag about the weather amidst one of the worst snow storms in memory.

** Yes, I know my big fat finger is in the way, but I'm too lazy to crop the pic and it doesn't detract from the beauty of the machine.


One more pic I stole from a friend:


Edit: If you want to see more from today (and far better pics from a real photographer), check out this site.

A Poker Post!

I last wrote about the 8/16 game at Bay 101 after a killer session where I cashed out 12 racks. This session wasn't quite as good (only 9 racks), but this time it was on my original buy-in. I was a bit of a card rack. I'm guessing I flopped a set about 50% of the time I held a pocket pair, and I netted a huge pot with pocket 6s on a board of QQ44 when I got called all the way with Ace high. On the flip side, I got my KJ-high snapped when my tilty victim called with KQ-high. It was a ballsy call and I congratulated him for it. He was on his 5th $200 buy-in and soon dumped all those chips back to me. I almost took a picture of him standing at the table looking at his last ATM receipt to see if he had enough for another hit, but I wasn't fast enough.

The other day I posted a picture on Twitter of a large gentleman with "Sticks & Stones" tattooed on his arm. I left the pithy comment: "I'm told THIS can break your bones." I'm certain it was true. The dude was huge. Unfortunately, when I went to snap the picture, I forgot to turn off the flash on my phone, and he was all, "WTF, dude?!" I quickly recovered and showed him the neat flashlight feature of my phone and apologized for the accident, but it was sketchy for a bit. I thought I was going to be testing the whole bone-breaking feature of his forearm, and that was not what I had planned for my Monday night.

Back to the Bay 101 - I really tried hard to put folks on hands and was able to loosen my starting hands quite a bit. Still, it's a bit of a crap shoot when there are 5 or 6 to see every flop. I got a huge kick out of the fact that a couple dealers stopped by after their down to check on my progress. It's nice to book a win.

WHO Got Arrested?

I have strange dreams. I woke up this morning certain that a blogger was arrested. It bugged me so much I was certain it was true. So a quick search of Twitter, Facebook and my G-Reader revealed no such arrests. Then I got to thinking - who would be the most plausible arrestee?

Which of these headlines is most believable?

Otis Arrested

Drizz Arrested

Change100 Arrested

Bammer Arrested

There are many other logical choices, but I think these four represent the four corners of our blogging universe. If any of them were actually arrested, it would likely be for widely different reasons. It's kinda fun to think what they might be.

PokerSlut

Bammer convinced me to play a stud tourney tonight. Here is my first hand. 8s was good here, right?

Stupid New Year's Resolution Time!

Well, it was hit and miss with my resolutions last year. The hit was pretty big. Not only did I swear off Diet Coke for the month of January, I went without for the entire year (other than that one accidental slip-up at Mastodon when SOMEONE (*ahem* HEATHER) gave me a sip of her drink and only afterward told me it had Diet Coke in it. I'm not counting this.

I didn't do so good in the gym, however. I never quite got 30 workouts in 31 days. Didn't even come close, in fact. The best I could muster was losing 13 pounds in September for a weight loss challenge at work. In my defense (there's always an excuse, right?), I changed jobs, moved to California, and took a new job that requires a 90 mile commute. There isn't a lot of time to work out.

But a new year is coming. I've settled into a routine of sorts, and I'm ready to try again. This time I think I can achieve the workout goal. Here's my plan - I'm going to run 365 miles in 2011. It should be attainable, right? Who can't go an average of 1 mile a day? My friend Laurie just cleared 1000 running miles in 2010 (awesome, BTW). Mine should be a piece of cake (mmm, cake). I have some additional motivators, not the least of which is the Mud Run at the end of April with the G-Vegas crew (seriously, are you building Mastodon around this?). I'd also like to run a couple other races, too. I did the Angel Island 12K last January and it was a blast. I'd like to do it again. I also wouldn't mind running at least a 5K every other month - I think I can get my time below 25 minutes. I'm also seriously planning on bringing my running shoes to the next #WPBT.

You'll be able to follow along on Facebook since I'm still using my CardioTracker. I'm motivated, psyched and ready to kick some ass. Who's with me?

An Open Letter to the Green Bay Packers

Dear Packers,

I owe you an apology. But first, a little background.

I grew up in upstate New York and was born into a Giants family. I have fond memories of sitting between my dad and uncle while they screamed at the Giants on TV. LT (the real one, not that fake dude pretending to go by the same name) was my hero. I first became aware of the team around 1976 when they went 3 and 11. I didn't care. I even had a Larry Csonka helmet, despite him playing only three seasons with the team.

Then I was off to the Army. I floundered around, briefly trying to be a Bucs and Broncos fan. Despite living in Texas, I NEVER became a Cowboys fan (although I'm not ashamed to admit fantasizing about the cheerleaders a time or seven). I had a flash back to the Giants once again when, in 1991, they practiced at my alma mater in Tampa prior to dominating the Superbowl. Watching LT practice was a special privilege.

But when the Superbowl was over, I didn't have the same passion I once had. 1991 was the same year I graduated college and started med school. It's also the same year I met the future Mrs. Chako. She was a farm girl from your great state and, unlike me, kept her passion for the hapless Packers despite their pathetic record (they were 4 and 12, but I'm sure you knew that). Her passion became my passion and we spent many Sundays curled up on the couch watching a young Brett Favre fling that ball like a robot. I was hooked.

But then it happened. Brett left. Mrs. Chako was steadfast in her commitment to the Pack. I was not so sure. Do I follow the green or, like so many others, do I follow my hero? I am almost ashamed to admit that I followed Brett - first to the Jets and then to They Who Will Not Be Named. Conflict arose in the Chako household. Cuddling was no longer an option.

But now the iron man is done. Do I stay with the purple? Do I go back to the Giants? Or, if you'll have me, do I come back, hat in hand, to Green Bay?

So, my dear old Packers, will you have me back? I'm terribly sorry, and I really miss cuddling.

-Dr. Chako

WPBT 2010 - Trip Report - Part Deux

The memories are fading fast, so you get some random thoughts before they're all gone:

I neglected to mention the actual best hand I played, but it was kindly pointed out to me by my victim, the lovely CKBWoP. Set vs. crub frush draw and I GOT THERE! Against CK. With crubs. Well, she did let me borrow the whistle several months ago and I don't recall giving it back.

One oversight - my foursome discussed reconvening in Colorado because we were stuck together all day and still managed to have fun. All like-minded fun seekers would be welcome on any future golf outing (which I suppose includes just about every member of the wpbt), but especially the intrepid souls who joined us on the golf excursion (yes, that includes you Katkin).

Here is what you've been waiting for - the hot girl-on-girl action. There was a lot of it. I often wonder, as people look forward to the wpbt, if they anticipate the possibility of seeing hot chicks making out as much as I do. It's like, "I love going to Vegas for wpbt. There's drinking and poker and good friends and we might get to see hot chicks making out!"* The fact that a lot of the making out usually happens in close proximity to me makes it even better. At one point, with two lovelies in my arms going at it right in front of me, I turned over my shoulder to the crowd and said, "This is for me!" I don't care if it wasn't true. In fact, I most certainly wasn't. The two couldn't care less that I was standing right there. I'm totally OK with that. For the details, you are just going to have to imagine it, or by me a few drinks and I'll do my best to describe it.**

I always enjoy meeting new faces and this time didn't disappoint. I wish I had more time to talk with Shelly, who is new to me but not new to wpbt. Next time we both bring our running shoes and actually use them! Wolfie and son were generous and kind. Lightening was hysterical with his advice seeking ("I have an issue with accounting and Ferrari's. Can you two (meaning The Wife and I) help me?").***

Grange is a special case (in more ways than one). I hope to see more of the big guy, and I know The Wife has a total crush. I'm trying not to be disappointed that of the two Chakos, The Wife is the one he finds more attractive. I take solace in the fact that since he has no fashion sense, he's probably not really gay. Doesn't anyone find me attractive, dammit?****

A few quick mentions and then I'll wrap this us. The amazing Peacecorn has been saying she had a gift for our boys for quite some time. I don't know how long she's been carrying this around but we finally got it - actual moon rocks! I cannot tell you how jazzed I am about this. You'll be pleased to know that when I showed my boys, they were more excited than you would believe. Totally cool.

Before the tournament started, Dr. Pauly gave me my trophy for winning the Turkey Cup 4.0. It was a bottle of The Glenlivit 15, Red Oak Reserve. I still haven't cracked it open, so if anyone finds themselves in the Bay Area, let me know. This is better enjoyed with company.

My tournament play was poor. Grubette had my number and picked on me constantly for the 1st 5 levels. She eventually crushered me when her AJ flopped trips and I turned a King with my AK. I hung on for a little while longer, but totally killed our last longer when Drizz took me out with his KQ vs my Presto. He got my bustout prize which was my Ferrari keychain. I'm serious dude. Bring it to California, and I'll toss you the keys. You'll have to give them back of course, but not before we enjoy some of the great twisty roads over here.

Lagasse Stadium was off the hook. The food was grand even if the service was a bit slow. The company was better. Cuddling on the couch with The Wife and CK, shooting the shit with Brad, Curtis, Falstaff, Katkin, etc. was the perfect denouement to the wpbt experience. And then it was time to go.

I have one final post about one of the best nights I ever spent in Vegas. Brad, Jeff, half of Gordon, Drizz, Al and I skipped Steel Panther for a trip to the Hard Rock and an amazing concert by the Black Crows. I'm not sure how to write it, but it deserves it's own page. Maybe one of the better scribes will do it first.



*Or, if you're like me, it's like, "I love going to Vegas for wpbt. There's hot chicks making out, and... some other stuff."

**I tried to write it, but as you've already figured out, I'm no scribe. After typing, "Their tongues intertwined like two snakes fighting for a bird egg," I simply gave up.

***I'm calling a penalty on myself for inappropriate and excessive use of parentheses and quotations in one sentence. See Asterisk #2.

****I know Kat finds me hot. I have no idea why, and believe me I'm not complaining. Still, when a gay guy finds you attractive, it's like a badge of honor. I'll just have to try harder.

WPBT 2010 - Trip Report

I just got back from my 2 hour commute from work and finished a lovely dinner cooked by The Wife, complete with a glass (or 4) of wine. I'm not up for an uber-post, but I wanted to get some Vegas highlights off my chest while they're still fresh.

Day 1:

• Got a good laugh watching The Wife get felt up by the TSA agent. Her reaction when I asked if I could take pictures was priceless.
• Dacia allowed me to get close to her ankles at MacCarran airport. She has no idea how dangerous that is (but I'll pull down your pants anytime you ask. Especially if you are wearing those killer heels).
• Bungalow Suites at MGM are quite nice, even if your view is the airport.
• Off to the IP. Saw a few bloggers, but only had eyes for Kat, who bypassed me to lock lips with The Wife. I got a great show before I got my turn. I must admit I was really looking forward to her classic greeting (all Canadians say hello like this, right?), and she didn't disappoint.
• Then I got a tongue stuck in my ear. Unfortunately it belonged to Falstaff, but I gave the big lug a hug anyway. And I bought his books!
  
• Poker was played. I finally got to the blogger table and really enjoyed beating up on civilians. I just missed the CaityCaity explosion. Don't know why she blew up, but it was epic.
  
• My poker highlight happened right before I moved to the blogger table. I turn 2 pair and the river counterfits me, but I sense weakness so I move all in. The civilian snap calls and announces, "Straight!" But, he flips over queen-high and I drag the pot.
• I tap Caity (who is right behind me) so I can have a witness to this nonsense, and the dealer quips, "Figures you know Caity."
• I drank. A lot.

Day 2:

• Slept late but got up in time for a wonderful breakfast with The Wife, Drizz and Kat. MGM buffet is adequate, but the company was perfect.
• Golf was played. Golf was won. It helped that my partner Dr. Jeff is an 8 handicap and far more competitive than I, which is saying something. Seriously, who let the doctors play together without demanding strokes?
• A secret weapon was deployed on the course, in the form of the cute beer cart wench delivering tequila and a six pack to Drizz in the foursome behind us. I noticed there were no more 300 yard bombs into us after that.
  
• Our foursome was completed by Iggy and the newly wed Speaker. What great company. We made plans for a golf outing in Colorado with just the four of us. I hope it materializes, because it would be a helluva lotta fun.
• Got to and from the MGM thanks to the overly generous F-Train who shuttled us both ways. Thanks, man. Sorry we didn't get to hang more, but the #Reidbill interpretation waits for no man.
• Poker was played. The Wife and I were winners.
  
• I drank. A lot.

More to come...

The Ghost of WPBTs Past

I was reliving some fond memories of my first WPBT in 2005. My write up included this hand:

I pick up A23Q on the button and call $3 into a five way pot. The flop is K53 giving me the nut low draw. I call a $15 bet and three of us see the turn. It’s a 10 and it checks to me. I check and the river brings an 8. I have the nut low. The Mark bets $50. Drizz folds, and without knowing what I’m doing, I say, “pot.” The dealer (very sharp, BTW) says, “that’s $262.” Did anyone see my balls jump up into my throat? Geez, I hope not.

The Mark goes into the tank. I’m praying he has the high when he says, “I’ve got the nut low, I think I need to call.” Shit. All I have at this point is A-high. Even a pair of 2’s and I get ¼ of the pot. I just keep smiling. Finally, he calls and turns over…

***

I also found this great pic - still one of my favorites:



I can't wait for the stories and memories that will be created in a few days.

Oh, can go check out The Wife. I think she's also excited.

The Hammer

Herbie Hammer

In honor of our upcoming World Poker Blogger Tour event (my 5th!), and also because I just changed my Blogspot template and wanted to see what it looks like, I decided to chronicle a hand where I threw The Hammer. I can't stop thinking about it.

In the beginning of these WPBT events, the hammer was a bigger deal than it is now (although I suspect that will change with the new "hammer-throw bonus") but there was always one rule - play them like they're aces. I forgot that rule at the worst time.

It's Bay 101 and I'm playing 8/16 with a half-kill. I'm half way through my 3rd $200 buy-in when the rush kicked in. I'm pretty sure I've never had a rush like this before or since. I had to ask the lovely Asian chip runner to help me stack chips. I was in the zone. Before the carnage ended, I broke three players at the table and eventually cashed out over 12 racks.

Ah, but the one that got away haunts me.

It's a 12/24 kill pot. In late position with 3 limpers in front, I raise with 7-2 off suit. Since everyone was gunning for me, I was sure to get a bunch of callers, but instead I was re-raised by a fairly bad player to my left (we'll call him Moron #1). I hadn't seen this before from him, but he was on mega-tilt. The big blind caps and 5 or 6 of us see a flop of 9-8-2 rainbow. It checks to me and I bet. Moron #1 raises (and secretly I was applauding this because isolation is rarely done in this game), but of course it's capped before it gets to me and I come along. The turn is a 4 and it checks to me again. I have no idea what I'm up against, so I check again. Moron #1 checks (!) - the bastard. Button now bets and gets one fold, but I smell a rat, so I raise. Moron #1 tanks, but eventually calls. So does the button. The river is a queen. Button bets.

Here is where I failed. I flat called. (FLAT? Are you f-ing serious?!) Moron #1 tanks but calls as well.

I have a pair of 2s
Button has pocket 6s (and a massive pot)
Moron #1 has Ace-high

I am certain that if I raised the river, Moron #1 would have called and the button, a fairly good player, could not have over-called with his pocket 6s. After firing 8 small bets and 3 big bets at this pot, I couldn't bring myself to fire again when it mattered most. And I lost an almost $800 pot because of it.

Beware of hammer-throwing doctors in Vegas.

7 days.

PVC Pipe WIN

Many of you also waste your time with Fail Blog. Occasionally they have WINS. This is just such an example. Maybe this means more to me because I fancy myself a musician (perhaps entertainer would be a better moniker - I have only a modicum of talent). This combines real musical talent with invention.

And when I saw it, it only had 302 views. Get in early. You'll be able to say you saw it early after it's been seen millions of times.

Enjoy.

Turkey Cup 4.0

Been a while since I had some poker content to contribute, but this was a good one. Like most of you, I had gotten the invite from Dr. Pauly to attend his Turkey Cup tournament on stars. I've never played it before (I don't think), and I really didn't intend to play it this time. I was vegging in front of the TV with the family when I realized it was 8:53 pm and I remembered the tournament started at 11:55 EST. This meant I had two minutes. I hadn't played on stars in quite a while, so I got the damned "You have new software to install" message. I figured I would miss the start time and I didn't know if I'd be allowed in late. When the software was finally up, I had to remember the login (duh), but I got my seat as the 2nd hand was being dealt. I was quite happy to see the good doctor seated at my table as well as the lovely Katitude. Kat was sitting out, but I assumed she was making a clever play to allow the regular donks to do what donks do and donk themselves out in order to allow the real poker players to start playing. What I didn't realize is that 1. her "play" was actually a nap that got out of control, and 2. It turns out that the "donk" I was referring to was me.

I don't remember exactly how the hand played out, but Pauly got me all-in on the turn with his QQ vs. my AJ and I spiked an ace on the river. I think the board was KKx, and I think I picked up straight and or flush draws on the turn, but I know I got my money in behind. I felt bad for knocking Pauly out of his own tournament, but I vowed to put his chips to good use.

I spent most of the tournament in the top 10, but there was a player I didn't recognize Shackedin05 (who I now follow on Twitter - @bloomey ) who was sitting on a pile of virtual chips. He was running over the table with massive pre-flop and turn bets. I vowed to stay out of his way, but eventually had to put up a stand and bluffed him off a pot with king-high. I showed it, but there is certainly a chance it was the best hand.

Only the final table got paid. Bubble boy was the unfortunate Joe Speaker, who chose to spend his bachelor party playing this tournament. His tweet about it was classic:

My first bachelor party, I puked in a San Diego alley. My second, I spent/lost $2.5K in Vegas. This seemed prudent.

I tightened up as the final table got underway. It got down to four of us, including last year's winner Derek. It was great seeing fellow scotch enthusiast Shane Nickerson go deep, and if I ever drift back to the Islays, I'll definitely look for an Ardbeg Corryvreckan as my next purchase.

Then is was time to shift gears and when we got heads up we were pretty close in chips - a fact pointed out by Dr. Pauly who stayed to rail the whole thing. I made a small adjustment to my preflop raises because Shackedin05 was showing a tendency to push all in with my 3x raise. He was a little too aggressive, so I felt if I was patient, I could capitalize. On the button I'm dealt QQ and I make a min-raise. He shoves with 33 and I insta-call. Amazingly it held up.


Thanks again to Dr. Pauly for hosting a great post-Thankgiving tournament with some great people. Now I have even more to be thankful for.

Blogging Again

I have a lot of things on my mind, which is impressive given that I'm not prone to all that much introspection.

Life is pretty good here at Casa Chako. We had a wonderful birthday celebration for The Wife. The kids are happy. In fact, I just got back to the computer from reading a bedtime story for my youngest. He requested Narnia again and giggled at the Chapter 4 title, "Turkish Delight." We were just talking about what food we wanted for Thanksgiving and he was struck by the coincidence. Today I took the family (minus The Wife, who preferred a nap to the wonders of Harry Potter) to the movies and we had a great time, even though I ate too much popcorn. My run times are getting better. I did a short run out in Stockton before work the other day and averaged 7.2 miles per hour, which is pretty close to what I was running for my PT tests when I was back on active duty.

All that is to say that things are pretty good. I don't like a lot of strife in my life. Most strife around here is self inflicted anyway. The Ferrari discussions were well chronicled. Lots of strife there. The Ferrari troubles have been well documented - it's still in the shop BTW (I'll have a whole post on that soon). My back and right leg have been bothering me when I get back from my commute. 90 miles never used to bother me at all. I've taken a few bad beats at poker. Nothing to brag about, but a string of 2 and 3 outers gets old. I also have been feeling very creative lately, but have no outlet. I've picked up the guitar a few times in the last several days but put it right back down after strumming a few chords. Other than playing requests for my eldest at night, I don't play much anymore. Also, back to the Ferrari for a minute, there was that brief controversy about people who I thought were friends getting offended when they felt The Wife and I were either bragging or ungrateful for the success we've had in life. That bothered me a lot more than it should. I had these brief fantasies about totally shutting down, but I like too many of you to let a few naysayers get to me. I once heard that successful people could only have successful friends because everyone else just ends up being a drag (actually, it was that rich people could only have rich friends, but if I imply we're rich I'll get more detractors and The Wife will scream, "No we're not!").

I have never apologized for being who I am. I don't intend to start now. I'm a regular guy with regular daily triumphs and tribulations who happened to make a few good decisions about 25 years ago. I'm also the guy who's gonna hang with like-minded folks in Vegas in a few short weeks who don't judge and don't expect anything other than good conversation and good friendship.

You know what? Fuck it. Putting these thoughts here, as rambling as they are, gets things in perspective. Life's pretty damn good. So I raise this glass of Highland Park scotch in your general direction and toast to the good life. Cheers!

Mastodon Prep

I realize I should be talking about the upcoming WPBT, but we don't play darts there. We DO play darts at Mastodon. I've been hearing the Mastodon buzz ever since Otis discovered those fossilized Mastodons in Colorado. Who knew he was an archeologist as well as an awesome writer?

In any event, I've been watching this video in order to train for some epic darts matches. Enjoy.

Stupid PLO Starting Hands

So this is better than this?

Vegas Trip Report - October 2010

I've thought on more than one occasion that I'd like to live in Las Vegas. There's plenty of upside, but there's a downside, too. Vegas is a destination city. The good news is that friends who might not visit you in Poughkeepsie will stop by regularly for the sin city experience. The bad news is that some of those friends don't get out of their constricted lives as parents, teachers, doctors, etc., and they may tend to overindulge when they get there. As the host, there is an expectation that you will obviously meet up and entertain on some level, but at what point can you back off? What if your friend goes over the top in making a fool of themselves? Are you expected to then take care of them? Can you simply shake your head and walk away? How about if they drink 5 shots of tequila before dinner, sample 7 different beers during dinner, and then throw it all up in a planter outside the Aria?

Not that any of that happened. This is just a hypothetical.

***

This trip was so I could attend a course put on by Dr. Stoller. He is a radiologist who wrote several of the textbooks I use every day in the practice of medicine. The course was fairly basic, but so well done that I came away with far more pearls of wisdom than I expected. Money well spent. I only nodded off once or twice during the two and a half days of lectures, but it's Vegas. It could have been much worse. It was held at the Wynn, which was extra good since they house a Ferrari dealership. It normally costs you $10 to go in and see the cars, but if you own a Ferrari, they let you right in. There's some amazing metal in there, including a $2 million (approx) Ferrari FXX, based on the Enzo. Strangely, other than the Ferrari, I own no Ferrari paraphernalia, but I rectified that situation.

The highlights of the trip were:

• Seeing my buddy Josh, who let me crash in his comped Aria suite. I always enjoy hanging with Josh, even though we've never had a great craps run when we play together. We stepped it up a level and threw the dice exactly 6 times. 6, 7, 8, 7, 6, 7. Brutal. Just brutal.

• Seeing the lovely CK and CaityCaity, who, along with Steve (a true foodie) were my ever-present companions and eventual saviors. Seriously, I can't thank you enough. Before I went seriously south* our conversation was brilliant and lively. It's great to hang with like-minded individuals with different life experiences. Thanks, too for the lessons playing mixed games. If I subtract my losses up there, I was actually pretty close to even for the trip (thanks to some great PLO and a very loose 1/3 NL game).

• Hanging out with Katkin. Sorry to be the half of the Chako household that won't make out with you. Sitting around chatting with you and Caity in the Mirage was terrific. The look on your face (and the subsequent tweet) about losing me and then finding me grinding at 3/6 LHE was priceless. What, I'm going to sit around and do nothing while you run to the bathroom? There was an open seat, dammit!
  

Every experience in life is a learning experience. This one doubly so. If nothing else, it should prepare me to pace myself for the WPBT.


*I have a HUGE bruise on my neck. I do not remember getting it, but I'm fairly sure I lost a battle in the Sage** bathroom. My assailant may or may not have been a toilet seat.

** (Yes, I put a footnote asterisk inside a footnote. Deal with it). Sage restaurant in the Aria hotel is insanely good. Seriously, if you appreciate food, go there. It's so good, you should plan your vacation around it. Get the pâté . If you really want to add to the experience go with a foodie. I know where you can find a couple. Just please don't overindulge.

Rush Poker LOLZ

Odds of sitting next to the same person twice in a row in Rush poker are pretty low. Having that same person catch a gut-shot on you twice in a row must be astronomical.

Hand 1:

Hand 2:

I'm gonna need some blood pressure pills if I join BadBlood and start playing this stuff on my Droid.