I live in Italy and love poker so it seemed a natural to try to play the IPT (Italian Poker Tour) event in Campione d’Italia just hours from my house. Instead, I flew to Vegas. Not many have accused me of being logical. Randomly, it was number crunching that brought me to the Vegas option. Italy is expensive. Travel is high, and hotels are really really high. Campione is an Italian town, but due to some wartime border changes, completely engulfed by Switzerland, which is why the gambling laws are relaxed compared to the whole of Italia. Well, to drive into Switzerland costs 40 Swiss Francs in addition to $8-$10/gallon gas and toll roads the entire way. Taking the train was going to be E140 and require a taxi on either end. The cheapest safe hotel was 160 Francs/night. In all, transportation and lodging costs were quickly spiraling out of control. Admittedly I was frustrated. The event was priced a bit out of my comfort zone as well at E2,000 + E200. I could play satellites for entry, but that would add to my lodging time and cost. There was a mini event attached as well, but with the expense of going, I was torn.
So I sat cursing my computer and exchange rates when Husband said, “just out of curiosity, what would it cost to get to Vegas?” Hmmm…good question. Less! Better answer! In Vegas I would have a lot more options and playing as a woman in Vegas is honestly a lot easier than in Europe. I talked to my sista friend, Poker Nazi, who told me about a fantastic looking tournament playing at the Bellagio whilst I was planning on being in town. Score.
I wanted to play the IPT event because I wanted more tournament experience against higher quality players. The event Poker Nazi was talking about was the Five Diamond WPT – Event #1 Combine’em Hold’em. It isn’t like I have been around tournament poker a lot, but I hadn’t come across anything like this event. There were three day ones. They played until the end of level 10 (I think) and whoever was left moved on to day two. The combine’em part was what was interesting. A player could play any or all of the three day ones regardless of chip stack. If the player made it through multiple days, their chips were combined going into day two.
I left from Venice first thing Friday morning. In my poker-centric mind, I had planned to sleep the entire way from Venice to NYC, and continue restful snoozing from NYC to Vegas and hit the cash game hard Friday night. Armed with pharmaceuticals and free international flight wine, I was prepared to execute my flawless plan. Problem was, I only passed out for an hour and a half! One and a half tiny hours!?! Are you kidding me! I was a complete zombie when I landed in Vegas. So that part of the plan…not so solid, however; my rental car plan/scheme went off without a hitch. When I am flying in late on a Friday/Saturday, I reserve the cheapest car, banking on them selling out and upgrading me. It works more often than not and really, what’s the worst that could happen? I get the car I ordered? This time I got upgraded to a Sexy Mitsubishi Eclipse Spyder with a throaty engine that liked to grab on and not let go. Score!
By the time I picked up my car and swung by to give Poker Nazi smooches, I was having a hard time getting my eyes to fix. It was bed time. I was in bed asleep by midnight and wide awake by 2:30 a.m.! Really? I fell back asleep by 4, but by 5, I was raring to go. So to recap, international flight, three and a half hours of sleep, but I have a cool car and I am in Vegas. What to do? Bake! My plan was to play day 1b at noon, but that was hours away so why not make cupcakes to take to the tournament? After baking and showering I swung by the Venetian for a little cash game so that the first hands I saw were not those being dealt in the tournament. It didn’t go well. My trips couldn’t stand up to someone who was willing to risk several hundred dollars on a non-nut flush draw. Bah. I didn’t earn it all back before I had to go to the tournament, but I was comfortable at the table and that’s an okay way to start the day.
The tournament was cool. I had not played a multi-day day tournament prior to this one at the Bellagio so I was sort of excited. I got on well with my table straight away. After a couple rounds, we lost a few, then a few more. I hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast and the day was quickly ticking away. It wasn’t that that there was no edible food at the Bellagio, it was more superstition. I was afraid that if I ate, what little energy my body had after the flight and piddly 3.5 hours of sleep would go to digestion and I would not be able to concentrate fully. Around round seven, there was rumor that whoever made it through day one would get to eat at the buffet for free! I wanted it bad before, but the thought of a free $50 buffet sent me over the top. At the end of the day there were three from our table going to the buffet…and more importantly, moving on to day two. The first was Alf, a similarly aged project manager from Texas. The second was a cool dude a bit older than me who moved to Vegas to play poker 25 years ago. Having played together all day, and both being there alone, Ronnie (Ron Stanley) and I decided to eat at the buffet together and talk about poker. Turns out, this really nice guy, was the 1997 4th place finisher in the WSOP main event. No kidding. It wouldn’t be until hours later while trying to sleep that it would hit me that I survived an entire day with a WSOP MAIN EVENT 4th PLACE FINISHER and a WSOP Bracelet winner . Try falling back to sleep after that realization. It ain’t easy.
I had planned to play day 1c, the last day 1, as well, but with just as little luck sleeping on Saturday night, I chilled and got my head and body together for Monday, the first day two of my life. I was amazed when I showed up that the tournament director had to flip back to page one to find my chip count! No way! Really? I knew I had a major chip advantage at my table, but folks could play all three day 1’s so I was expecting to start day 2 average. I started 20th in chips. No one was more surprised about that than I was. All told, 141 made it to day two. Many players with chip bags from multiple days. There were 786 entrants total, but we only needed to clear out 41 to make the money at 100.
Table draw for day two put me, amazingly, at the same table as Ronnie from day 1. Super solid player, but I already knew the valuable lesson that if he was in a hand, he was ahead. Even though he way outclassed me as a poker player, the familiar face at the table was sort of cool. I had drawn seat one where it is really hard to see the action, especially for a near midget such as myself. Seat three was a randy real estate developer my Dad’s age with a pleasant enough personality even if he had a less than pure outlook of females in Vegas. Seat four…agh, seat four. Ylon Schwartz was seated in seat four making not one but TWO WSOP MAIN EVENT 4th PLACE FINISHERS AT MY TABLE (2008). He had himself on the ropes a couple rounds in, then started winning coin flips and accumulating a lot of chips. I know I was annoying the crap out of him, but this can be to my advantage, no? I stayed at this table until we had played down to around 50 players. I went to my new table slightly below average in chips. I look around. Seat one has a chip mansion. Seat two, a chip castle. Seat three a mega mansion. Two orbits and my chips were halved. It was brutal. Seat two was Lars Bonding, a completely kick ass Danish tournament player with rock star level cashes and an insane drive. Looking across the table at him and his chips took me aback. Here is this massive tournament force, and he is wearing a pink shirt. No shit. He was one of only two players to take chips to day two from all three day ones. This is clearly where I screwed the tournament away. Every pot I played at this table I played wrong and got rolled. Oops. My bad. I got moved. Straight away I got bet out of a pot I really wanted to play, but a couple hands later I woke up with aces in an already raised pot. I re-raised all-in against the only other girl I played the entire tournament. She called with Jacks and when the turn brought her a set, I was out in 41st.
Ronnie finished 51st. Ylon 23rd.
I had gone to Vegas because I wanted to play bigger tournaments with better players. As far as that goes, mission accomplished. I learned a lot, most importantly, how much I have to learn. I watch poker on TV quite frequently and it always seemed so crazy when guys would come off a table having won unreal amounts of money and they were crushed. I got up from the table feeling like someone had punched me in the stomach while telling me my dog had died. It was not a good feeling.
I hadn’t eaten, working off not wanting to change anything from day one. So I ate and did some angry shopping. That helped temporarily. I bought myself a Vegas dress at Bebe. I took a M/L. That hurt the old pride. The smalls looked like they may or may not fit my eight year old. In Vegas, it appears, I am a cow.
The next day, I played a couple tournaments including the Tuesday night big bounty at the Venetian. It was amazing how many people I recognized just from the one event I played. It was a really fun event. I met some super interesting characters. I cashed in 11th with that one. It was two a.m. when I realized I hadn’t eaten anything all day. I was surviving on coffee and orange juice. Is poker anorexia a real disease? Orange juice is sort of like a food right?
Wednesday was my last day/night in Vegas. My flight was super early Thursday morning so I totally degenned out, checking out of my hotel Wednesday morning with no intention of sleeping until I hit the plane Thursday morning. Another flawless plan I’m sure. The Bellagio had advertised an NLH event for Thursday as part of the five diamond series. I really wanted to play it, but even though it was advertised as a one day event, the plan was to play until 3 a.m. then reconvene on Thursday. So that really wasn’t going to work for me. I’m pretty sure I would have been out before that became an issue, but that’s no way to enter. I decided that all the really hard charging tournament players were going to playing the event at the Bellagio so I would play the Venetian as easy pickins. SO good in theory. The field was s-o-f-t; however, I was out of this tournament faster than any other I played. I had pushed all in and the dip shit in the small blind wasn’t paying attention, but said call thinking she was calling the big blind. Verbal is binding and I was thrilled when she turned over 3-4 of clubs. I was even more thrilled when I connected on the flop. She hit runner runner for a straight and I was to the rail. Damn it! I decided to go check on the event at the Bellagio. Lots of familiar faces, including Ylon who saw me at the rail and came over to update me. He was gone the next time I needed a potty break from the cash game I was playing.
Let’s talk a moment about that last cash game I played shall we? I was not the best player at the table by far. I would classify the table as 3 tourists, 2 super conservatives, 2 rotating seats, me, and two players way above my level. I fully intended to go broke. Turns out I had the best cash session of the trip, paying for my plane ticket. Score! When I look back and try to figure out how this happened, some of it was just good fortune, some was good timing and a lot was standing up for myself. A skill I am just now learning. I had to stand up from the table fully two hours prior to needing to leave because I could not form a coherent sentence and it struck me that this wasn’t the time to have oodles of cash on the table.
At this point I had been wearing the same sweater in casinos for a full five days…and some nights. My hair reeked…who am I kidding, everything about me smelled bad. Think Golden Nugget carpet circa 1962 and you may come close. I had no clue how bad I smelled until I got out of the casino…at the airport. I was the stinky kid! None of that 1.5 hours of sleep bull on the way back. I was asleep before takeoff. The $3.19 bottle of water I bought in the airport spilled in my shoes while we were in the air making me now smelly and miserable. JFK airport was a nightmare with one security dude for the entire Delta terminal. Now, not only did I smell like black lung and booze, I had no choice but to take off my wet, stinky shoes. I actually felt bad for whoever was going to be near me on that long leg from NYC to Venice. Turns out, stank can work for you. I had been seated in the center of the plane with a couple. As soon as they could, they moved leaving me an entire center row – poor man’s first class baby! I laid down flat and snoozed most of the way home. Just to make sure no one got any ideas, I enjoyed my vegetarian meal of beans which with pressure changes made me the dead sexiest chick in the air.
