I woke around 8AM Friday morning, it being 11 AM my time. When I finished showering and dressing, Logan was awake as well. Together we went across the street to the Mirage buffet.
Though the selection at breakfast wasn’t great, the food was quite good for a buffet. The bacon was crisp and the french toast was hot and soft, not like the cold and stale hunks of egg-soaked bread I’ve seen elsewhere. The room looked a lot nicer and better designed than other buffets I’d been to, and judging by the promised lunch and dinner offerings, it would be a good place to have either of those meals.
We got back to the Venetian poker room around 10:30, as I wanted to register for a tournament that I thought started at 11. I learned, however, that it did not start until Noon, so I took a seat at a 1-2 NL table where Joe was playing. I quickly won $200 with a set of T’s on a K-high flop, and a little while later, got up to use the bathroom before the tournament.
I was playing a $500 deep stacked event that runs on Saturdays and Sundays. For a regularly scheduled live tournament, it’s a great structure: 10,000 chips to start and forty-minute blind levels. I had over 100 BB’s for the first two hours of the tournament, which is generally unheard of if you aren’t spending four figures on the buyin.
The play was predictably weak tight and terrible, and my aggressive play quickly drew the ire of my tablemates. Unfortunately, they kept outflopping me, and though I made some good laydowns, I soon found myself below average, with the blinds and antes rapidly spiraling. A passive guy with a ton of chips limped UTG+1, someone else came in behind, and I decided to take a flop with 86s on the button. The stakes were 300/600, so my 17,000 chips didn’t allow for big implied odds, but the play was so passive that I wasn’t too worried about either of the short stacked players in the blinds moving all in, as they almost surely would have were this an online tournament.
What I hadn’t counted on was the BB thinking he was the SB and tossing an extra 300 chips into the pot. When it was explained to him what was happening, he pulled the chip back, but the floor ruled that he had to raise. “OK, I’m all in.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but that would be a string bet. You must raise 600 more or forfeit the 900 chips.
“Fine!” he exclaimed angrily, firing his cards into the muck. The big stack just called the raise, as did the player behind me, and I was sorely tempted to move all in, as I felt either of them would have taken the opportunity to raise if they liked their hands particularly much. But a glance at the first player told me he might well look me up, so I just called.
The dealer spread the flop: 762r. The guy up front quickly bet 3000 into a pot of about 5000. I wasn’t sure what to make of this, but I didn’t think he could have an overpair, even 8’s, given his failure to reraise pre-flop with the limpers behind him. After a few seconds of thought, I moved all in for roughly 15,000. “I call you,” he told me quickly, though for some reason I felt like he was just being spiteful and I could be ahead. I turned over my hand, and he showed my KJ off-suit for no pair and no draw. Turn J, river J, and I’m out.
Leaving the others to play cash games, I went up to our room to unwind, check my email, call my girlfriend, etc. Afterwards I checked out the pool exclusively for denizens of the Venezia Tower. Nestled amidst a beautifully landscaped garden, I found no fewer than five pools of varying sizes, some heated, some sporting fountains or statuary, and all looking very relaxing. I read for a while on a stone bench in the shade of a large-leafed tree, and then headed inside to get ready for dinner. My only complaint about the pool is that there was no view. I later realized we were on the tenth floor of the hotel but unable to see anything about the hotel’s towers rising around us on all sides. It would be nice if there were a view of the city as well.
We dined at Delmonico’s, a Wolfgang Puck steakhouse in the Venetian. Since I don’t eat steak, I’m probably not the best person to review this place, but I found the service somewhat lacking for a restaurant of its caliber and price. When I eat at an expensive restaurant, I’m generally looking to try something new and appreciate the gourmet preparation. I’m expecting the wait staff to be knowledgeable enough to make suggestions, explain the preparation, and generally help me appreciate the meal.
When I asked our waiter about the soup of the day, he said simply, “lobster bisque,” with no attempt to make it sound appealing or tell me what was special about Delmonico’s lobster bisque. I got a very similar response when I asked about the fish of the day. My friends who ordered steak didn’t get much more information, and the waiter also offered no assistance as we were selecting a wine from a very extensive (and expensive) list.
By this time, our fourth roommate for the weekend, Darren, had also joined us. Darren’s a few years older than we are and recently married, but he has a baby face and routinely gets carded when we go anywhere. He didn’t get carded at Delmonico’s, but Logan did tell them that it was Darren’s birthday and asked the waiter how old he thought Darren was.
“24?” he asked after sizing him up for a minute.
“You’re off by nearly a decade,” Logan told him.
“I’m 14,” Darren chimed in quickly. Our heretofore stolid waiter unleashed a deep belly laugh that instantly tripled his charm. After the meal, he brought out a chocolate gelatto on the house for the birthday boy. Darren shared with the table, and we found it quite delicious, particularly the whipped cream.
From there, we went straight to the poker room to catch some of the Friday night action. The Venetian poker room is probably my favorite in Vegas. It’s spacious, with good game selection and higher-than-average maximum buy-ins ($300 at 1-2 NL and $1000 at 2-5 NL). The staff is also excellent, with some very efficient and friendly dealers, helpful and accommodating floor staff, and some of the best (and best looking) cocktail waitresses I’ve seen.
Having left my traveler’s checks in the room, I bought into the 2-5 game for the $700 I had in my pocket and ran it up over $1000 pretty quickly. To my immediate right was a vivacious Asian woman who looked to be about 50, and to my left was a dark-skinned, comical, slightly drunk, and downright maniacal young poker player named John. I was anticipating a fun and profitable game.
The Asian woman struck up a conversation with me and started giving me some pretty basic poker advice. Playing the part of confuzzled tourist, I asked if she wasn’t a professional. She told me no, explaining that she played for the first time a few years ago and fell in love immediately. “At first, I lose very much money, but I get better, and I love this game. My husband ask me if I want have sex, and I say, ‘No, I want play pokah, baby!!!’” Hmmm, perhaps it’s better that Emily doesn’t play.
Still in a playful mood, I asked if I hadn’t seen her on TV. “I doh knoh, I dohn watch pokah on TV.”
“You weren’t at the final table of the World Series?”
“Just a ladies’ event!” she announced proudly.
“Oh, are you Annie Duke?” I asked.
“Hahahaha, your friend, he is big boolshitter,” the woman told Darren, who was sitting on the other side of her. He nodded.
“Oh wait, I know who you are. You’re Johnny Chan!” she laughed even harder.
A little while later, she won a big pot off of a loud guy with huge arms bursting out of a muscle tee and frosted hair gelled into a prickly ridge. She got her money in pretty bad and made a runner runner straight. He said something about how badly she played the hand, and a big fight ensued. They ended up betting $200 on whether she had a gutshot or an open-ender on the turn. Although the guy was out of line for running his mouth, he was right that she had a gutshot, so I didn’t get involved. She insisted she wouldn’t pay unless she saw the tape, at which point John cut the tension with a deadpan incredulous, “Wait a minute, you all have cameras in here?!?!” to the dealer.
The meathead left not long after, without collecting his $200, but the fight pretty much killed the jovial mood at the table. The woman on my right seemed upset that no one took her side and was no longer willing to joke around with me. As luck would have it, the episode of ESPN’s 2006 World Series of Poker coverage in which I make a very brief appearance came on TV, but I could not get this woman to turn her head in look. I think we had lied/BS’ed with her too much for her to believe anything we told her.
I was up to about $1200 when I made a few mistakes. I had been playing back at John’s aggressive play, pulling a few squeezes on him, though it was tough being to his immediate right, especially as we got deeper. He straddled UTG, got two calls, and I made it $70 with red Q’s on my BB. He called, as I figured he would do with almost anything, and everyone else folded. The flop was a less than ideal KcT6c, and John called a $120 bet.
The dealer turned a 6, and I checked. Without much hesitation, John bet $300. With nearly $1100 behind, I had a tough decision. I really felt like he was on a draw, but my only move now would be to check-raise all in, and if he did have a K or a 6, I’d be drawing near dead. After much thought, I folded, and he showed be 95cc. Darren and I discussed the hand later and concluded that I definitely should have shoved on him. I was basically just playing scared with 220 BB’s and over $1000 cash.
Still steaming from that fold, I raised to $25 with AA in early position, and both John and a short-stacked guy who seemed kind of tight called. “I have the best hand right now,” John told me. The flop was a very dry Q85r.
“You say you had the best hand?” I asked him.
“Yeah.”
“OK I check.”
“Well it’s not best anymore, I check too.” The other guy checked pretty quick, and the dealer turned a T to complete the rainbow. I bet $55, John folded, and the other guy min-raised to $110. Immediately I had a sinking feeling my my stomach. I asked what he had left, and when he told me $160, I rationalized a reraise all in by telling myself that after the flop checked through, my hand was pretty under-represented. He quickly called with QQ for top set.
I later learned that calling this guy “pretty tight” was like calling the cocktail waitress’ outfit “pretty revealing.” He went to showdown twice in about three hours, both times holding big pairs pre-flop that turned into sets on the flop. I’m also pretty sure he (correctly) folded K’s to me pre-flop, which really burned me up.
I did make one play with which I was very satisfied. I had moved seats to get off of John’s left. The player three seats to my right was extraordinarily passive, as revealed by this hand: he limps behind a bunch of limpers and bets an A64 flop checked to him. I call with A2 on my BB, everyone else folds, and he immediately comments that this is “suspicious” of me. The turn is an A, and I check and call again. The river brings an 8, I check, and he checks behind with A4 for a full house, telling me that he didn’t see how I could call with a worse hand. Although I was ready to muck my A2, I still hate his check.
Anyway, in the hand I want to talk about, I called an early position raise with 76s in middle position, and this guy called from his BB. The flop came 56c9c, he checked, and we both called a bet from the raiser. An 8 on the turn filled my gut shot, but when the BB bet out $100, I figured he had the same hand and just called, hoping to bluff him off of it if a scare card came on the river. Sure enough, the river was a 9, and he checked. After thinking for a few seconds, I bet $300, and he told me he was folding a straight.
By midnight, we were done playing serious poker and ready to get drunk and have some fun. We put our names on an interest list for a 6-12 Mixed Games table and kept bugging the floor staff until they finally helped us round up another group of friends to play with us.
For the who don’t know, the 6-12 Venetian Mixed Game is some of the most fun you can have playing poker in Vegas. Everyone is there to play some unusual games, drink free drinks, and have a ball. The mood is very laid back, and the dealers do their part by joking around and letting the players decide how the game should be run.
We were joined by one pretty weak player and a group of four young guys who seemed pretty solid. One kid in particular was not drinking and had a very strong grasp of the triple draw games like deuce to seven. This was kind of annoying since we were just looking to screw around and have fun, but he sort of got into the spirit, and he didn’t leave with too much of our money.
The nine of us settled on a rotation of Stud/8, Omaha/8, 2-7 Triple Draw, Razz, and Badugi. Impressively, several of our dealers avoided a very common error when dealing Stud/8, which is to pull the chips into the pot once the action is heads up. Since these pots are so often split, it is more efficient to keep each player’s bets in front of him for the duration of the hand once it is heads up, but very few dealers do this. Yet another feather in the cap of the Venetian poker room staff.