You've Got Top Secret Clearance, You Can Read About It

For those of you who haven't been re-clicking all weekend, there is a rather lengthy post just below this one that details all of my adventures on Wednesday. You can scroll on down to read it now and come back later if you wish.

Anyhow, that epic post took me almost three hours to write, I started on it sometime after 2 in the morning, and the sun was coming up once I hit the submit button. Then I slept like a cat in a ray of sunshine on the living room floor for about six or seven hours. I did a few chores around the house, but one thing I haven't mentioned is that I wasn't feeling too well yesterday. No, not quite sick, but not quite right, either. I just felt worn out by the heat and the stress. So I didn't get a lot done--I stayed in bed drinking Gatorade for most of the afternoon.

Saturday was rather non-productive for me. Since we were up all night drinking beer and playing poker, I ended up sleeping until almost one in the afternoon. I posted a quick update, took a shower, and put in a load of laundry. By then, it was time for me to head out.

My plan for the day was to go down to Binion's again and play in the very last of the Poker Classic tourneys that interested me, the second casino employees event. I got there a half hour early, paid my $110 registration fee, and then headed over to the snack bar for some nourishment. I ordered a cheeseburger and a Coke, but then just a minute later, I saw the guy next to me get a bowl of navy bean soup and some cornbread. So I asked if the chili was available, and since it was, I got a bowl of that and some cornbread, too. I was starving, having not eaten anything since breakfast the day before.

As hungry as I was, I couldn't finish everything (except the chili with cheese and onions--I ate every bit of that!), so once I gave up on the burger, I left my change for the server and headed back over to the tournament area.

When I signed in, I was told that I was the 30th player to sign up, but that they were expecting a hundred or more.

I told Kevin, the tournament director, I'll take the under.

There was no way they were gonna get a hundred casino employees in that tournament on a Saturday night of a holiday weekend. But when the cards went in the air, there were nine tables open. Not all seats were filled, of course, and within just a couple of minutes, they started breaking the outlying tables. Halfway into the first round, they put the numbers up on the closed-circuit TVs that hang over the room--there were only 57 players registered. Six tables. First place was only $1800 or so.

That kind of sucked, but the ongoing joke at our table was that we were all likely to be able to brag that we'd cracked the top 50 in one of the 'big tournaments at Binions'.

Unfortunately, it was the tightest tournament I'd ever played in. Nobody went broke. After the first level, we'd only lost one player. Hell, in other big tourneys I've played in, they've lost 25 or more before the blinds went up the first time. Two hours in, when we got our first break, we were down to 50. Only seven players had busted out. It looked to be a long, tough slog.

When I got back from break, we had new table assignments, and I had a pretty good group. There was a bad beat that went down, and I spoke up and told everyone about the sick runner-runner Queens that got my full house on Wednesday, and the player in the 2-seat spoke up and said "Yeah, I dealt that hand..."

Doh!

Yep, one of the dealers from Wednesday was playing at my table! I told him that while I had forgiven him for his costly foible, I was now gunning for his stack, and we all had a laugh. That opened up a round of bad-beat stories at the table, and while I thought mine was bad, nobody could top the player in the 8-seat who played in the second Day One of the World Series Main Event on Thursday.

He didn't satellite in, he paid the ten-grand entry fee out of his pocket, and on the very first hand of the tournament, he was dealt pocket Aces under the gun. He raised to 25 times the big blind, and another player went all-in. Everyone else at the table folded, so he had the dream scenario--a chance to double up at the Worlds Series and have an immediate commanding chip lead, along with having the best possible hand. So he called. The other guy had pocket fours, so he was golden. Unfortunately, a four spiked on the flop, knocking out the Aces on the first hand of the tournament, not two minutes after it started. Ten grand down the drain, just like that...

Man, I didn't feel so bad after hearing that one. He said that he just stood up, stunned, and without saying a word, headed for his car, drove home, drank heavily, and passed out. I told him he should've stuck around because he would've gotten some face time on ESPN--I was reading the live updates later that night and they'd said they were trying to chase down the 'un-named player' who had busted out on the first hand, cameras in tow and everything, but he ron-pauled himself out of the room before anyone could catch up to him.

Again, I was enjoying the vibe of the tournament because it was mostly all dealers in the field. There were a few cocktail waitresses and valets scattered around, but it was mostly people just like me. No drunks, no annoying losers, no hard-core wannabes. So the conversation was pleasant and the stories were interesting. That's probably the best part about playing in one of those casino employee events.

But it wouldn't be poker without a bump in the road. I had a decent stack going, and I was on the blind with a suited Ace-four (again). One of the players in front of me raised, everyone folded, and since I was getting it cheap, I called.

The flop came out Ace-Queen-Four.

While I tried to control the happy-naked-muppet dance going off in my head, my opponent bet a thousand dollars at the pot. I had him covered, so I went all-in. He called. I *thought* he had Ace-King, and that's what I was hoping for, but when we turned the cards over, he had Ace-Queen, making a better two pair.

Damn.

The turn and the river brought me no help, and I was suddenly the low man on the tournament totem pole. My chip stack was rather anemic.

I managed to make a few moves and double up a couple times after that, but I was still in dire straights. The blinds and antes were getting big, so I had to make a move fairly soon. Luckily, I was in middle position and found myself with a couple of sevens in my pocket. So I announced to the table, Well fellas, it's now or never, I need some chips. I'm all-in! and I pushed my last meager crumbs out into the middle of the table. Everyone folded around to the big blind, and thinking I was going to steal 'em, I was a little bummed to see that player look at his cards and cap them instead of mucking them.

He said, I'm not gonna create any drama here by thinking about it... I call.

He turned up pocket Kings.

Crap.

No seven came on the board, and I bid farewell in 45th place, three hours into the tournament. So that's three tournaments I've played in this week, and all three times I've been knocked out by pocket Kings. The ironic thing was that I was knocked out of the first employee event a month ago when I was the one holding pocket Kings. Apparently, the cowboys are not much good to me.

That totally ruined all my plans for the next few days, getting busted out like that. In my mind, I felt like I was almost destined to cash large in that tournament, if not win the thing outright. My plan was that if I'd won at least $500, I'd use it to pay my way into the World Series casino employee even on Monday, with it's $500 buy-in (I certainly didn't want to pay for that out my pocket). And that would've been a chance at a six-digit payday! (The guy that won it last year got $104,000, and this year they're expecting about a 30% increase in the number of entrants due to the timing). Alas, it was not to be.

So instead of lying here under my ceiling fan rubbing a bunch of Benjamins together and daydreaming about all the naughty things Kimmy would agree to do with me if I had a hundred grand in my pocket, well, I found myself calling down to the casino and seeing if they had any shifts available. I've been on call the past two days, and I've gotten nothing. I was scheduled to be off tomorrow, but they called me back a few minutes ago and told me to come in at 6:00 am. That'll help. But it won't be nearly as interesting as playing in a bracelet event over at the Rio for a six-digit jackpot.

So I'll work all day tomorrow, and even though I'll have significantly less than ten stacks of high society in my pockets, once I get home, I can still lie here under the ceiling fan and daydream about doing naughty things with Kimmy. Hell, I do that anyways...

Besides, next year is my year at the World Series. I know I wasn't quite ready for it this year. I know how much better I've gotten in the past several months, so if I get another year of practice under my belt, I'll be downright dangerous.

That's right, Ice....man. I am dangerous!

Mikey