I played my first tournament of the year tonight -- the 7:00 pm, $100 deepstack at the PH. 10,000 chips, 30 minute levels, blinds starting at 50/100. I did so well I'm back in my room at Signature blogging about it before 10:00 pm....
I found myself in the BB first hand. An open to 250; SB calls. I look down at QQ and raise to 1,100. Fold. Fold. It was the only hand I won all night.
I had a few decent hands. I flatted a 600 raise at 100/200 with 99, and got bet off the on the flop when 3 over cards hit.
A while later I flatted 600 with AK in position. I thought about 3-betting, but opted to see the flop heads up. Flop was Q high. Guy led for $600, and I raised to 1,800. Guy shoved about 3500 more. I Fold.
The death-hand occurred at 100/200. I had about 6,800 to start the hand. A(c) J(c). I open to 600 and get a call. Flop is T(c) 8(h) 2(c). I bet 800; dude raises to 1,800. I call. Turn bricks. Guy checks again. I have 4,400 left. I decide to shove. Guy tanks . . . calls with a T . . . River blanks and I'm done.
Tomorrow is my last day in town. I'm pretty much ready to leave. In fact, this morning, I tried to move my flight home up to tomorrow, but it would have cost another $400; so, I'm sticking around until Sunday. I mentioned before that Vegas lost its luster to me at some point during my nearly two months in town last fall. My short visit in February was fun. But, being here for a week-plus this trip just feels like a grind. It's been 100+ degrees everyday, making it difficult to spend more than an hour or so at the pool. And its simply unpleasant to spend any time outside. I've actually had fun mashing VP; but I've reached the point that the drunk idiots roaming the casino every night are getting on my nerves. Last night I stopped by Whiskey Down for a glass of Cabernet after a brief poker session at The Excal. I paid for it, because they refuse to comp cabernet, even though I'm mashing bar top VP... It's like 1:30 am. I simply want to chill with a decent wine, and plays some VP. But I've got some drunk muscle head next to me basically pushing me out of the way of the machine. He's simply oblivious that I'm there playing. He leaves, and some woman who's even drunker takes his spot. She tries to talk to me, but she's so drunk I can't understand a word. Not that I had any interest in hearing what she had to say (she was, um, NOT hot). Then she actually grabs my ass and starts cackling like a lunatic. I cash out immediately and leave. Perhaps I'm just too old for this town . . .