The Vegas Undercircuit - or - Shoestring Tablehopping

Mon, 24/07/2006 - 7:11am

I think I might have just coined two phrases (I hope so, at least) but what they signify is the travel of a small-bankrolled player under the radar of the big poker circuit over here - a hunting out of the $1/$2 NLHE cash games, $4/$8ish PLO hilo, the $100- $300 tournaments and the overflowing satellite and side-event action which one hopes will bring value.  Like my beagle buddy, I am not immune to the "everyone else is doing it, so I might as well" mentality which is leading me any minute to go and buy in to the ridiculous £1,500 NL Event on Tuesday, but up until now I have received plentiful fun and value for money in the non-WSOP games over here.

When we arrived, it was head-first into updating the H.O.R.S.E event, and after three days of that I felt pretty scrambled, and played not one hand of one game of anything.  I did dream about chips though, but in an abstract way, rather than one of those 'At the Final' triumph dreams.  I think I woke up one day talking about writing a letter of complaint to Simon Cowell - you see how random the subconscious is...Anyway, when play ceased at a more godly hour (2am) on a couple of nights, we hopped it down to Binion's to play their $70+$40 NLHE tourney which runs from 2 - around 5am daily.  Marvellous - a last chance for us insomniacs and diehard cardroom hoppers.

I failed miserably in my first two attempts at that one, and chopped it last night, which was rather satisfying, and more than paid for the three sit'n'gos from which I'd sat'n'gone earlier.  But I wanted to blogshare the Orleans Tournament Experience I had today, as it's definitely different than the Poker Factory that is the Rio at the moment.

It's actually a more pleasant experience to play in smaller cardrooms; I won't use the hackneyed 'character' as the reason, but it's something along those lines.   With the bigger and better players hovering around the WSOP area, or playing the much better structured Bellagio $1,000 tourneys every day, it's a totally different kind of player who turns up for these Undercircuit events.  Not the Just-21 Have A Go Heroes, particularly, more like the old-timers and holidayers who feel like having a relaxing, less taxing experience - and the good ones presumably see value for the patient.

I arrived late, and was first Alternate (only because of the sea of poker Vegas is swimming in right now - the Orleans has a big cardroom which at other times is packed).  I got right in, and was sat next to two quiet guys in their fifties or sixties.  Well, quiet in the sense that they talked at a normal volume, and weren't maniacs.  What was different about this tournament was the relaxed way in which people played - there was no grandstanding, no sunglasses-on-dwelling for effect, just swift play (of a fair to diabolical standard) aided by the fantastically efficient dealers.

Instead of silently frowning starers, I got to listen to the middle-aged sort of Asian-looking guy next to me come out with a truly random string of statements and questions.  For example, when I re-raised someone preflop, then pushed all in on the flop, getting rid of him in spite of his half-stack call-off preflop (I had Kings, if that's at all a relevant detail) my neighbour says, "You married?" "No," I reply.  "I'm not surprised, you scare them all off.  I wouldn't walk in front of your house, I walk wide round it..."

Then, in order, his conversation starters went (unprovoked by me, I must add)...

"So, the Legend of King Arthur.  The round table.  Was it real?"

"Do you like Prince Charles' wife?" then, "I like her more than Diana, she was a bit..." and he makes little horns with his fingers over his head.  Go figure.  I thought everyone here considered the Princess of Wales some kind of demigod.

"OK, enough of this.  I need something..."  He pulls out a gold and green shiny rooster card protector thing (with small stickers of hens and chicks stuck round its base, and then crows, loudly, twice.  Then my neighbour to my right says, "Well, got to do something about that," pulling a big lump of pyrite (his 'lucky rock' better known as 'fool's gold') out of his pocket.   

At this point I had managed to do most of my stack with 72 offsuit.  OK, better tell you how, briefly, so's you don't call the funny farm - 4xlimpers, small blind, call, flop 7c 2 10c - bet out the pot, big blind caller, all others fold.  Turn, 10d.  Just in case my guy is on the flush draw, I bet again, but he puts me all in and it's an instafold, getting shown the 10 for good measure.  So, go on, tear me to pieces...

I move in on the button/cutoff, then push my uncalled-luck and do it again with Qh 8h.  Crazy guy (crazier than tablemate MadYank whose 6 2 doubled him through in spectacular fashion) says, "Do you want me to call you?"  Now, I never really know what to say in these situations, so I provided the boring-but-safe, "It's up to you."  I wasn't horrified by the Kc 5s I saw, and was almost relaxing as the flop brought low cards, two hearts, but nothing further helpful came and I was out.  Well, you can't win them all.  Not even most of them, to be honest... but I was enjoying the general bonkers-ness of the table and was sad to be in no position to avoid the Rio any longer.  

So here I am, back once again in the media centre, which is next door to the Ultimate Bet hospitality suite, from which I can hear the dulcet tones of Ol' Dirty Bastard as they crank up their party.  Maybe a spot of crashing in order?  Naah, bring on the 2am Binion's tourney.