Nope. Not gonna apologize for never posting on my blog anymore. Because once I apologize and say I’m gonna write more, it never happens.
However, I will tell you that the very talented Manuel Reese of Stigler, Oklahoma is redesigning this bad boy. Might take a month or so before the new look is debuted.
The point of this post: some of you might be interested in following my progress at the World Series of Poker this year. The World Series is pretty much poker’s holy ground, where every dreamer who knows how to play cards puts down some cash in the hopes of winning a championship gold bracelet and some serious cash.
Follow my progress on Twitter (where I can update from the casino in real time on my phone); my Twitter name is stephenamurphy.
I am going to definitely play in three events (there are 57 in all), possibly four. The days I will play:
Saturday, May 30, $1,000 buy-in
Saturday, June 20, $1,500 buy-in
Saturday, June 27, $1,500 buy-in
And the iffy that I still haven’t made up my mind yet: The main event, Sunday, July 5, $10,000 buy-in.
Just so you all don’t think I lost my mind, all of the money that I am going to put up for the World Series is profit from my poker playing over the past six months. I’m not spending my lunch money on this. I’ve been successfully grinding out a profit in the past few months to allow me to take these chances in these big tourneys.
What’s at stake? Well, the winner of the $1,000 buy-in will probably get more than $800,000. The winner of the main event — $8.5 million. Of course, more than 5,000 players are likely to sign up for both, so there will be a lot of work to be done.
Anyway, hope all of you who still manage to check this stale site are doing well.
As you might remember in a previous post, I was pretty “over” journalism when I left my last job. Even though the people I worked with were great and the actual job was pretty chill, I got burnt out on a lot of the details, most specifically the design aspect of the job. While I do have design skills, it’s not what I’m great at or at least not what I love doing.
I love letting pros do the work for me. For instance, look at this site. I can write the garbled mess that you see here, but I’d much rather let an established design artist like Ashlee Goodwin make it look pretty. By the way, Ashlee and I are in discussions to redesign the site with a more Las Vegas feel, so stay tuned.
I told myself when I left Stigler that I didn’t want to work in another journalism job, unless it was for a poker magazine. It was the only journalism job I could see myself truly loving. Writing and poker combined. It’s like adding salt to french fries. It just makes sense.
So a couple months into my stay in Vegas, supporting myself through modest earnings at the poker table and spending most of my time working for the Obama campaign, I was in the Venetian poker room and a very excited Texas businessman nudged me in the side and told me he just met the president and chief financial officer of Card Player magazine, arguably the most respected poker magazine in the billion-dollar business.
Needless to say, I was intrigued. I casually mentioned that I was a journalist, and the jolly Longhorn (who, despite disapproving of my politics) insisted that he introduce me to the Card Player people. He did, and a few emails and interviews later, I was Card Player’s newest staff writer.
The job is great so far. With no design responsibilities, I can spend most of my time researching and writing. Plus, with a regular income, I can start saving my poker earnings instead of just putting them in my Bank of America account to make sure I could continue to pay the bills. I told myself when I took the “real job” that every penny I earned from the poker tables from then on would go toward World Series of Poker entries for next summer (there’s about 55 events, with the ‘cheapest’ events at $1,500 to enter).
Well, after a month of grinding it out, I hit my first big payday since taking the job. I made just shy of $10,000 today after coming in 2nd place in a $55-to-enter tournament that had about 1,900 entrants. It is my third biggest ‘cash’ to date — the $16,000 cash that helped finance my move from Oklahoma to Las Vegas and the $14,000 Aussie MIllions prize package in 2007 being the two bigger ones.
Anyway, the ten grand funds at least six $1,500 WSOP events, so I very excitedly can say that I will definitely play in the 2009 World Series of Poker. Hopefully, the tables will continue to be kind to me.
With both sadness and great anticipation, my “Middle America” experiment has come to an end.
On Monday, I will finish packing up my U-Haul truck and start driving west. Destination: Las Vegas.
I first set foot in Stigler, Oklahoma last December and began working as the sports editor for the newspaper here full-time in January. In the eight months since I first arrived, I have had the opportunity to experience a new place and a new environment.
I mean, people are people. It’s not as if Small Town, America is an entirely different world than the coasts. But there are little things. Little things that I’ll miss.
Part of me thinks that I could’ve lived here forever. I don’t really miss the ocean. It’s not like I’m an art or culture freak who craves museums. A small town really has all that I need. Especially a small town with a Wal-Mart.
But I am leaving. For many reasons, for no reason in particular… I just feel like it’s time to move on.
One of the so-called reasons is that I’m pretty sure I am over journalism. This was probably the ideal journalism job I could’ve gotten. They gave me so much independence, allowed me to do my own thing, and tried to help me out whenever I needed it. But I just don’t love the work. I love writing. I love strangers recognizing me, asking, “Are you Stephen A. Murphy?” That ego stroke will never get old.
But I didn’t love the grind of it, the deadlines, the mundane moments, the design aspect of the job… In short, I just didn’t love the idea of working in print media anymore.
I’m not saying I will never work another journalism job again. I look at my resume and it screams journalism. But for now, I am over it.
So… Vegas. A place where I’ve spent no more than four days of my life.
In the spirit of trying something new, I decided to go to a place that probably least resembles Stigler. I mean, there is practically a church on every block here. In Vegas, there will probably be a stripper on every block. But don’t worry, all of you moral supporters out there, just as I avoided the churches here, I am sure I will be able to resist the strippers as well.
I’m thinking more seriously about law school. I’ve finally cracked open my LSAT practice book, and the test looks manageable. I am a notoriously slow reader, and that’s something I will need to work on to score well. But again, I think it’s doable.
Besides studying the LSAT, I also plan on becoming an Obama campaigner. Nevada is one of the true swing states, and should be a solid battleground state come November. One of my good friends, Robbie, is working with the campaign now and he seems to like it. Since I think I might want to get involved in politics in the future, I feel like now is probably the best time to get my feet wet in the environment.
And finally, yes, there will be poker in Vegas. I do not want to become a professional, but for a short time in Vegas, I think it will keep me on my feet. In my seven months in Oklahoma, I have made more money playing poker than from my real job. Even if I fail miserably, I have enough saved for a while.
I don’t plan on living in Vegas forever. I’m thinking somewhere in the 3-6 months range. But who knows, maybe I will get a job that I love. Maybe I will meet a girl that I can’t get over (just kidding, Meggo). Maybe I will feel at home.
But more likely than not, I will spend a few enjoyable months there, get some great political experience and get a solid score on the LSAT before relocating either back to Southern California or the greater NYC area.
As I mentioned last month, I will consider playing in this year’s WSOP main event if I make 10 grand playing poker before the end of June. After a successful weekend, I am now 16% toward my goal.
On Feb. 6, I was at 14% with just under $1,400 in profits. But a failure to cash in the $340 Oklahoma State Championship event and a losing session in Pocola brought me down to nearly $950.
I know what most of you are thinking. You lost over $400. Are you insane? But of course, you need to not only be willing to lose as a poker player, but accepting of the very fact that you will lose occasionally.
No poker player has a winning session every time she or he plays. That would be absurd. There is luck involved. No matter how much you play, the intricacies are complex. It’s not if you will lose; it’s how you respond after you lose.
Although I went down a bit, I felt confident that I would rebound. And rebound I did. Here is a breakdown of the times I played since I was at 14%.
-340 in Tulsa (tourney)
-80 in Pocola (cash game)
+200 in Tulsa (cash game)
-40 in Pocola (cash game)
+370 in Oklahoma City (cash game)
+330 in Oklahoma City (cash game), -115 (tournament) *same day
After taking out money for gas and food, I am left with over $1,600 in profits. On my way.
I am a little alarmed with my tournament drought in Oklahoma. I have played in four events with no cashes. On the other hand, I’m doing very well at the cash games. If I hadn’t entered any tourneys, I would be nearly 23% to my goal. I don’t know if I should be thinking that way, but it is eye opening. Online, I’ve had much more success in tournaments than in cash games. It’s been the complete reverse for my live play.
That said, maybe I’m over-thinking this. I’ve probably played in less than 15 live poker tournaments in my life, while I’ve played in probably thousands of online poker tournaments. Needless to say, my live sample isn’t very large. And, in the big live tournaments (two Aussie Million tourneys and the OK State Championship), I’ve bubbled in two and was the chip leader in one. So, while I didn’t cash in them, I certainly was a presence.
I have cashed in one live tournament. I came in 3rd place in a $20 rebuy tournament at Hollywood Park for $800. (That was in late December, so it went into my “real” bank account and doesn’t count toward my WSOP goal. I only allow my Oklahoma play count toward that.)
Hopefully, I will cash in one of these live tournaments soon in Oklahoma. I will need to evaluate my play to see if I can do anything better. Maybe I need to be more aggressive early.
As for my live play, I’m still playing tight pre-flop (I limped with ace king today), and then aggressive post-flop. I’m discovering that raising with the nuts (the best hand possible) is a strong move. People often get afraid of scaring people out of the pot when they make their hand, and they only call bets instead of raising. When you raise, you look like you want to push the other player out, so often that player will see your hand as good, but breakable. Raises sometimes disguise the strength of your hand and get more action (and more profit) when you make your big hands.
Anyway, that’s enough poker talk for now. As always, I will keep you updated.
I have instituted a new “Poker” category on the blog. I know some people like my entries on cards; other people think they’re wordy and boring. Still, I like poker and I might want to pursue a job in poker journalism someday, hence the reason for the new category.
Poker still is and will remain a hobby. I originally planned on playing in Pocola once a week, but I’m probably going to skip it this weekend. I’m feeling a little under the weather (sore throat and a fever), so besides attending this weekend’s basketball games, I’m probably going to lounge on my couch and inhale Gatorades.
I know my parents aren’t going to love the new category. They categorically (you gotta love that repetition…) disapprove of me playing cards, but as I don’t do it that often and as I always bet well within my means, I don’t really see the reason for concern. Plus, with the risk of sounding arrogant, I am confident I could make more money (not much more, but more) if I played cards full-time than any job I could secure right now. But I don’t want to be a full-time poker player. I could win a million dollars tomorrow, and I still wouldn’t change a thing — my home, my job, etc.
So yeah, new category. Let me know what you think of it.
Yesterday, I played in the No-Limit Hold ‘Em State Championship, a $340 event that was part of the 2008 Oklahoma State Championship Series of Poker in Tulsa.
It was the most expensive buy-in that I had ever bought with my own money. Obviously, the two tournaments I played in Australia were more expensive, but I won those seats from a $33 satellite tournament.
The day did not start off well. Although I got to Tulsa a full hour before the tournament started, they were only accepting alternates. That meant that they had already reached their max capacity of 550 players, and every player that registered after 550 would be guaranteed to get in the tournament, but only after that many players were eliminated.
Meaning if you were Alternate #5, you would get in after five people eliminated. If you were Alternate #40, you would get in after 40 people were eliminated. I was Alternate #86. (There were over 200 alternates total.)
It certainly wasn’t an ideal situation, because when I got in the tournament, the blinds would already be pretty high. But there was one benefit to being an alternate. I got to chat it up with a fellow alternate, the legendary Scotty Nguyen.
Scotty is truly one of the poker greats. He’s the 1998 World Champion, and his last hand of the WSOP that year is arguably the most entertaining final hand in WSOP Main Event history. He told his opponent, Kevin McBride, “If you call, it’s going to be all over, baby.”
He was telling the truth. McBride didn’t believe him, called Scotty’s bet, and made “The Prince of Poker” the legend that he is today.
See the youtube clip below:
He was a really nice guy. I talked to him for about 15-20 minutes. He was throwing back his beer (Michelob Ultra), and he seemed to be in great spirits. He said his wife just had a new baby so that was taking up most of his time, and that he was psyched for his 2008 calendar — he was playing tournaments in Japan, Australia, the Bahamas, and even his native Vietnam.
I wanted to ask him about his meltdown in last year’s WSOP, where he made a great run in the Main Event before he imploded just shy of the final table in front of a national audience. But of course I didn’t mention it. I don’t have that little tact.
After talking with him for a while, I finally got my seat and started to play some poker. In my first hand, I was big blind (blinds were $100-$200 with a $25 ante) with $4,000 starting chips. Anytime I have less than 20 times the big blind, I consider myself in the “danger zone,” so I was looking to accumulate chips aggressively from the start.
I did so on my second hand. Two people limped in, I called from the small blind with 9-5 off-suit, and the big blind checked. The flop was K-3-3, rainbow flop (meaning all different suits). We all checked to the final player on the button, who made a pathetic $200 bet. (The pot was about $1,000; anytime someone bets less than half the pot, it’s considered a weak bet.)
I didn’t think he had anything, so I casually called — and tried to play up the casualness of it. The other two players folded.
The next card was an 8. I checked. He checked.
The river was a 2; there were no flush possibilities. I bet $1,400 — about the size of the pot. I really didn’t think he even had the king, and I was pretty sure that I at least got him worried that I had the three. I certainly didn’t expect to bluff half my chips in my second hand of the tournament, but I knew I needed to make some moves to get some chips, and I felt like this was a good opportunity.
He folded, giving me the big early win.
I sort of steamrolled from there, picking up hands and getting people to lay down theirs. By the first break, I had nearly $8,000 in chips, well over the $5,000 average.
After the break, I nearly lost it all. My pocket kings ran into pocket aces, crippling me to only $2,000 in chips.
Scotty walked over to me at the table, patted me on the back, and said, “Play good, baby.” He was on his way out. I suppose that was his form of a good-bye.
“Play good, baby,” I did. I doubled up when my ace-queen held over king-nine, and then I just played some stellar poker while getting some great hands. Before I knew it, my $2,000 in chips had bloated to $35,000. With about 400 people left, I wouldn’t be surprised if I had one of the top 10-20 chip stacks in the room.
But as good as cards were falling for me in that stretch, I went incredibly cold in the next couple of hours. I didn’t get a card above 10 for nearly two hours. And then I lost a big coin flip (I called an all-in with pocket sixes because I sensed weakness. I was right, he only had ace-eight, but I was hoping he had a smaller pocket pair so that I would dominate him. He hit his eight, taking a decent chunk of my chips.).
Because I wasn’t getting many playable cards, I was pretty much folding the vast majority of my hands. Pretty soon, there were only 65 people left out of the 755 that started, and the top 45 made “the money.” That’s when I lost a huge hand.
I had about $45,000 in chips. The first person to act, who had about $80,000 in chips, raised four times the big blind (they were $2,000-$4,000 at the time) to $16,000. A person after him called his last $12,000; he was all-in. I looked at my hand to see pocket jacks. I called “time” to think about my decision.
I had no idea what the all-in player had, and I knew that he might have me. But I became convinced that I had the original raiser beat and if I pushed all in and he folded, then I would win $4,000 in the side bet and my overall loss wouldn’t be so bad if I lost the small pot to the all-in. And better yet, if the original raiser called and I was right in my read, I would win a huge pot.
I was right about the original raiser. I did have a better hand than him. The only thing was, there was still a player left behind me yet to act, and he had a similar sized stack to mine. After I pushed all in, he insta-called. I knew I was dead.
He flipped over kings, which held over my jacks. (The all-in guy had aces, so he won his smaller side pot. The original raiser folded.)
The loss crippled my stack to $3,500. Pretty rough considering the blinds were $2,000-$4,000 with a $500 ante. I went all in two hands later with ace queen. Incredibly, it held up after one person limped in and another person raised and gave me protection. It pretty much quintupled me up. I was able to chop another pot, and all of sudden, there was only 47 people left. I was two eliminations away from making “the money.” 45th place was guaranteed nearly $700. 1st place would be awarded $64,000.
That’s when I woke up with pocket kings again. I went all in, and was called by ace queen. If I won this pot, I would almost definitely make the money, my first cash in a major tournament. If I lost, I would “bubble,” or just miss “the money.”
The flop and turn were no help to him; in fact, they hurt him because it gave me a flush draw, leaving him only two outs — the ace of spades and the ace of hearts — going into the river. That’s when the ace of spades fell.
The audience groaned (yes, there was an audience), and I took it with a smile. After Australia, no bad beat seems that bad. I wished the table good luck, checked to make sure the board was right and that I did indeed finish two away from the money (it was sadly correct), and left the casino.
So, that was my OK State Championship poker story. No money, but I am feeling very good about my play. From the moment I sat down, I was playing to win and for the first time ever, I really felt like I had the skills and ability to win the tournament. Obviously, you always play to win the tournament. But in Australia, I hoped I would win but I don’t know if I truly believed I could do it. Now, I really believe that I can.
Phil Hellmuth has this little speech where he states that you can’t become a champion unless you truly believe you’re ready for it. He says that many players have the skill, but don’t have the mindset. I think I’m starting to get the mindset.
So anyway, to wrap up, no big money here yet. But I think I’m on my way.
I was so excited about my first shooting experience that I forgot to mention what happened after it. It was still relatively early when I left Matt’s house (about 5ish), so I decided to go back to Pocola for some more cards. As I mentioned before, in my two previous visits, I was up a little over $500. Pretty solid for five hours of work, considering the only level they have is $1-$2.
But last Saturday was a good night. I’ve employed a new strategy in Oklahoma and it’s paying off huge. Any semi-serious poker player knows the value of aggression in NL Hold ‘em, but I’m really starting to appreciate pre-flop patience. Especially in cash games, where men with no social lives (uh… except me of course) want to play practically every hand, there’s not much point in raising with a relatively good but not great hand like pocket eights or ace jack because you’ll get three callers and barely be a favorite if at all. At a cash game, people can and will call with anything so you’re really not limiting the field that much.
Basically, my new plan is to keep the pots small until I really feel like I’m ahead. Then, I’ll bet strong and judge where I’m at. This takes a lot of the luck out of it, and you still usually get paid off because like I said, people want to play. They’re not going to fold a medium sized bet if they’re unsure. It’s the price of entertainment. They will sometimes fold if you threaten to kick them out of the theatre, aka put them all in.
Anyway, I know for most of you non-card players out there (and perhaps even some of you who do play), I’m putting you to sleep. But in two hours on Saturday, in a cash game where the average stack was about $150, I made $900. Yes, I got some good cards. But I played well, I played patient-aggressive, and I got the job done.
It’s funny. I’ve only been there three times, but the people who work there treat me like a semi-pro. They thank me for playing at their casino, give me a lot of attention, etc. I try to tip the dealer fairly consistently on my big wins (common etiquette, though I’m not throwing it at them because I’m looking to make a profit), and they seem to know that I can play a little.
Anyway, an idea I formed a couple of months ago is finally being put into practice. I’m creating an entirely separate, independent bank account for my poker playing. Because whenever I would play, every now and then I would make a couple thousand and I’d usually throw most of it in my personal savings and some of it back on the poker table. While this was good in that I was saving up money, it was unsatisfying because I never worked toward a goal. I was always grinding it out, never playing at an exciting level.
So I’m finally going to set my eyes on the prize: the WSOP Main Event, the granddaddy of all poker tournaments. $10,000 to enter, thousands to beat, one champion. If my poker account reaches that amount, I am going to seriously consider entering that tourney. With the $1,400 I’ve made so far at the Oklahoma casinos, I’m already 14% of the way there.
Truthfully, if I reach 10 grand by the Main Event in June, I might just enter one or two of the “less expensive” tourneys, which are about $1,500 or $2,000 to play. And more likely than not, I will petition some of my family members to think about backing me so that not all of my money was on the line. Anyway, I will have the chance to work out details if and when I get there. As for now, I’m going to get some food…
I went to the casino again this evening for a few hours and made a few hundred. Like I said, I don’t think the competition is very good. Less than five hours of “work” at the poker room this weekend, playing low stakes, and I have already made more than my weekly salary. My new plan is to go once a week, on Sundays. That way, I don’t play too much but I still get my fix.
Also, for those of you who want to know the painstaking details of my professional poker experience, it can be found below:
“Kristy Gazes”
By Stephen A. Murphy
Originally published at Mansion.com
“Kristy Gazes.” I muttered. “Kristy Gazes.” Spoken to no one, out into the world. They almost sounded like curse words. “Kristy Gazes.”
“Steve, snap out of it,” my girlfriend Megan said. I guess hearing “Kristy Gazes” 25 times an hour gets pretty old. I wouldn’t know. I was still reliving the moment. Over and over again.
It happened two hours into the Aussie Millions Main Event. A college kid with less than $3,000 in his bank account, I won a $33 satellite to one of the biggest poker tournaments in the world. The prize package was worth $14,000, but you weren’t allowed to exchange it for cash. You had to play.
So there I was, in Melbourne, Australia. I told my friends and family that I was “just happy to be there” and that I was “treating it like a vacation.” But really, my daydreaming was in overload. I wanted to win. Me and the more than 700 others who put up over $10,000 just to play. The winner would receive $1.5 million – cold, hard, cash.
I tried to calm my nerves on the morning of the tournament, but I was a little nauseous. I didn’t want to eat anything, but I forced myself to munch down a few soggy fries. I could potentially be playing nine straight hours without a dinner break, and I couldn’t let my stomach influence me.
If I played well, my entire life could change. I doused some more salt onto the fries. I knew I was good enough to win, but poker can be tricky. Some days, you play your best. Other days, you just don’t quite have it. I wondered if I would have my “A” game today.
That answer would come quickly. As the tournament started, I noticed I had to sit next to a poker pro, the noted and respected Kristy Gazes. Photographers and reporters were surrounding her. Gazes was a fairly attractive, fairly young female. However, in the poker world, where most of the players were middle-aged men with beer bellies, she looked like a beauty queen and had a posse around her to prove it. As people crowded around her, asking for autographs, I felt like I was getting in the way. But I was ready. My original plan was to avoid Gazes where I could, and take advantage of the fellow amateurs at the table.
But I didn’t avoid her. I actually got into three sizable pots with her early, winning two out of three—including one when she tried to bluff me on the flop, turn, and river when I had three kings (two in my hand), making the nuts (the best possible hand with the available cards). After checking and calling her big bets on the flop and turn, I checked on the river to see her bet more than the size of pot before re-raising and going over the top of her. She looked at me, said, “Nice play, kid,” and threw her cards away.
I was playing well and getting some good hands. I knocked out a player who bet all in just with top pair when I had an over pair. I correctly read a different player for a three of a kind, and I bet three times the pot on the river with my full house to see him call and lose.
Pretty soon, my chip stack had doubled. And then it just kept getting bigger. I had about $45,000 in chips while the tournament average was still just $20,500. Without even realizing it, I had become the chip leader of the entire tournament. I was winning a tournament that made the top two finishers millionaires. But Kristy Gazes was doing well too, gathering about $42,000 in chips. We had each eliminated a player, and we were dominating our table. Pretty soon all the photographers and cameramen were coming to our table, snapping pictures and taping the action.
And then came the ‘big hand.’
The blinds were $100-$200. Kristy raised three times the blind from early position to $600. I looked at my hand to see both red aces – the best starting hand in Texas Hold ‘Em. I decided not to slow play them (and thereby disguise my hand) because there were too many people behind us who could play for value and catch a card if they called with a pocket pair. So I raised it to $2,000. The rest of the table folded, and the action went back to Kristy. She waited about 15 seconds, then raised it to $8,000 total.
Little did she know that I had her right where I wanted her. The cameras were going wild at this point, clicking away. I decided to take my time with this decision. I didn’t want to seem too eager and show off that I had aces, so I wrinkled my face, and pretended to agonize over the decision.
I knew she had a big hand, at worst pocket queens, but more likely kings or even the last two aces in the deck. I could’ve just called, but I really didn’t want her to hit a three of a kind on the flop, so I raised another $10,000 to $18,000 total. I stared at the table, trying not to give anything away. I obviously wanted her to call or move all-in, but I would gladly take this very sizable pot from her right now if she folded.
She asked for time. No one at the table was talking, but it was far from silent. The murmurs from the audience, and the incessant clicking of cameras seemed deafening. Eventually, she made her decision. “All in.”
I immediately called and flipped over the aces. “That’s what I was afraid of,” she said, as she turned over the two black kings in the deck.
At this point, it was announced over the intercom that poker pro Kristy Gazes was all in and that our new chip leader would have an enormous $90,000 in chips less than two hours into the tournament — 4.5 times the average stack.
The flop came ace of clubs, seven of hearts, two of clubs. It should have killed all of the tension, giving me a three of a kind. Kristy would need two straight miracle cards to let her win the hand. I was more than a 9:1 favorite at this point.
Kristy started talking to a reporter, saying, “It’s ok. I lost my chips to a good player.” Then the turn came – ten of clubs. Three clubs were on board; she had one in her hand. If the river came out clubs without pairing the board, her flush would beat my three of a kind.
Another club came on the river. Her runner-runner flush with the king was enough to beat my three aces. She apologized profusely, and I accepted the defeat in a dignified fashion.
A few hands later, with just $2,000 in chips and the 100-200 blinds about to hit me, I went all in with Ace-Ten. A player with Queen-Jack called me and caught a Jack to knock me out.
The bad beat I had against Kristy Gazes quickly made its way around the casino. I suppose the good part about it is that I didn’t have to buy a drink for the rest of my time in Australia. Everyone felt so bad that they would buy them for me. Gazes took my chips and cruised to the Final Table before getting eliminating, earning over $200,000 for her efforts.
Who knows if I’ll ever get another opportunity to play in one of these big tournaments? I know I’m good enough to win, but it is poker, meaning there is luck involved. I hope, that one day, I’ll get one more chance.
I’m actually surprised at how long I’ve lasted. I have been in Oklahoma for three solid weeks now, and I had resisted the temptation to go to an Indian casino to play poker until tonight.
For those of you who don’t know, I’m a poker enthusiast. I’m a ‘better-than-average’ player most of the time (if I were ‘good,’ I’d be rich) with flashes of greatness where sometimes, as my brother John puts it, I “see the matrix.”
It actually hasn’t been that difficult to abstain. I’ve been keeping myself busy. But the other day, my LA friend Rachel asked what I did for fun in Oklahoma. And then again today, Manuel at work asked what I did during my free time. I had nothing to say. I literally hadn’t done anything besides work since I got here. So I decided to pass on the relatively meaningless game I was going to go to tonight (120 miles worth of driving for a tourney consolation game), and give myself a night to relax.
I had planned on just watching some TV and calling it an early night, but I soon began itching for some action. It didn’t help that Megan, my ex-ish girlfriend and best friend, was going to Vegas for the weekend. So I decided to make my first 45-minute drive to the casino in nearby Pocola.
It was nice, clean, professional, and felt about 20 times safer than Hollywood Park in the Inglewood section of Los Angeles. The only downside was that the poker room was smaller than what I was used to (only 9 tables) and the only game they were playing was $1-$2 no-limit, smaller stakes than I’ve grown accustomed to. All the same, I enjoyed myself.
No offense to the Okies, but the competition was easy. Granted, it was only one table and I only sat for two hours at the most, but I made a fairly easy $170 in profit. It sort of reminded me of the cash games in Melbourne.
For those of you who don’t know, I was once flown halfway around the world to play in a professional poker tournament. I was briefly the chip leader of this tournament that paid $1.5 million to the winner until I suffered a very bad beat (my aces lost to kings, all money in pre-flop, she caught a flush).
People, both in Australia and in Pocola, were there to have a good time; the money didn’t matter that much. At least half of the players at a typical Hollywood Park casino know what they’re doing. I would argue only one, maybe two fit that category at my table tonight.
Anyway, if I find time to go the casinos every once in a while, that should provide a nice side income. I certainly won’t play often though. I strongly believe that if I really wanted to, I could pay the bills by just playing poker (I didn’t say make millions) but that’s simply not what I want to do right now. There’s not much of a thrill in grinding it out every day. I’d rather continue writing and seeing what else life throws at me.
I was born and raised in northern New Jersey. I went to high school on the Upper East Side of Manhattan in New York City. I could jog to the beach from my college campus in sunny Los Angeles.
Now I’m in Stigler, Oklahoma. A town of 2,700 people in a rural part of the state, I am heading toward uncharted territories.
