Vegas & The Aftermath - Diary

[booder]

I remember questioning your decision to adopt a new "play for stacks" approach last year and getting extremely short shrift so I daresn't raise the issue again.

My personal approach in marginal situations is to first get into the money and then start shaking tail-feathers, but I am a $33 Omania player so what do I know.

God grant him the serenity to accept the things he cannot change, the courage to change the things he can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

My favourite quotation/prayer/thought of all time - even Jake Burns or Billy Bragg never came up with any better.

Oooooooh  Jake Burns  itt

[RED-DOG]

I remember questioning your decision to adopt a new "play for stacks" approach last year and getting extremely short shrift so I daresn't raise the issue again.

My personal approach in marginal situations is to first get into the money and then start shaking tail-feathers, but I am a $33 Omania player so what do I know.

God grant him the serenity to accept the things he cannot change, the courage to change the things he can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

My favourite quotation/prayer/thought of all time - even Jake Burns or Billy Bragg never came up with any better.

Oooooooh  Jake Burns  itt

Always room for a little culture Boo, even on here.

[MereNovice]

I remember questioning your decision to adopt a new "play for stacks" approach last year and getting extremely short shrift so I daresn't raise the issue again.

My personal approach in marginal situations is to first get into the money and then start shaking tail-feathers, but I am a $33 Omania player so what do I know.

God grant him the serenity to accept the things he cannot change, the courage to change the things he can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

My favourite quotation/prayer/thought of all time - even Jake Burns or Billy Bragg never came up with any better.

Oooooooh  Jake Burns  itt

Always room for a little culture Boo, even on here.

Quite right.

I used to love going to watch them and they're still going strong.

They used to play a certain theme before coming on stage for every gig in the early eighties.
It appears they made no concessions!



I think I might have omitted it on this one occasion!

[tikay]

Level 4 complete, and I have battered and bullied my way to 16,900.

[MereNovice]

Level 4 complete, and I have battered and bullied my way to 16,900.

My hero.

[tikay]

Level 4 complete, and I have battered and bullied my way to 16,900.

My hero.

Quite so.

By the end of Level 5, I had battered & bullied my way to 0.

[tikay]

Was sailing along serenely, really good table, then I got into one of those spots which - I believe - play themselves.

I've got......

 

I had raised from late position, & got one caller.

We saw this flop, which had me salivating.......

 


Chips were soon flying in all directions, & I thought I was in wonderful shape, but my man had outs, which I hoped were chop outs, but he pinged it & got the lot.

 


Pretty sure we are supposed to shovel all our chips in here. It came   

So with one card to come, I'm scooping, on the river I was busto.

Bit disappointed, but it's just how the cards fall sometimes, & I think I'm supposed to double or bust here.

Meanwhile, it's 5.40pm, & I've busted from a selling plate at Binions.

Next up, the $1,100 PLO8 @ Venetian, tomorrow.

As to tonight, well I'm gonna try & continue the story of the Pacific Adventure, & my holiday generally.  The poker has not gone so well, but the holiday was sublime.

[RED-DOG]

As to tonight, well I'm gonna try & continue the story of the Pacific Adventure, & my holiday generally. 

Got any more bird pics?


 

[KarmaDope]

Safely registered for Binions, but got seat 7 again, bugger. Seats 4, 5 and 6 seem out of limits to me this trip.

Got me a Starby, so am all set.

Gonna wear my shades, that will ensure I look cool, mean, and menacing. Might not talk, either, just raise relentlessly, like what Mr Bully did.

Carnage awaits.

Its Binions. When they assign you a seat just ask for 4, 5 or 6. It worked for me on Wednesday!

I'm guessing you didn't even have to play the "I'm a feeble old man with dodgy mincers" card either?

Nope!

Just walked up and said "if possible, somewhere between seats 3 and 8 please". The guy just said ok, changed the card he was gonna give me (I assume a 1 seat, which I hate lol) and I had seat 7 on Table 90.

[tikay]

As to tonight, well I'm gonna try & continue the story of the Pacific Adventure, & my holiday generally. 

Got any more bird pics?


 

Plenty.

[tikay]

I remember questioning your decision to adopt a new "play for stacks" approach last year and getting extremely short shrift so I daresn't raise the issue again.

My personal approach in marginal situations is to first get into the money and then start shaking tail-feathers, but I am a $33 Omania player so what do I know.

Always happy to take advice from wise & elderly peeps Ralph. I do hope "short shrift" does not equate to "rude", or abrupt" though.

Current results sort of put me in  weak negotiating position, too.

I just decided to try to win these things, rather than keep limping into - or not - min cash spots.

And yes, you are just an Omania player. Winning one though.

[tikay]

Thirty plus years ago, I used to sell salvaged engines and gearboxes to an export firm called B & S Morgan who were based alongside the Manchester ship canal in Warrington.

Each Monday morning the boss Brian Morgan would issue a list of the things they would require the following week. The list would look something like this.

TR7 engine and box.

Austin 1100 engine with 4 sync box.

Transit axles.

Rover 3500 speedometer.

Ford 1500 engine x flow head.

Borg Warner spring and lever clutch plates.

Etc etc...

So I would spend the week searching for the items on the list and then, usually on a Friday or a Saturday morning, I would load everything up and take it to Warrington to get weighed in.

When you arrived at Morgan's, you had the wait your turn in a long line of lorries and vans, then you would be invited to drive into a vast hanger like building that was filled to the brim with row upon row of shelving packed with used vehicle parts. There was just enough room to reverse between them and into a little clearing where your load would be checked off.

Brian Morgan's right hand man Roger was in charge of inspecting your goods, and he waged a constant battle with us suppliers. You see even though the parts we supplied didn't have to be in good working order, they did have to meet certain criteria. For example, an engine could be missing all of it's components save for sump, crank, block, head and rocker cover, but the block could not be cracked and the crank couldn't be seized. Unfortunately, a lot of the time those were precisely the things that were wrong with the engines we found.

Now if we could buy a cracked or seized engine for £20 and it would make £100 if we could get the fault past Roger it was a chance worth taking, so the whole thing developed into a huge game. As Roger became more adept at detecting disguised faults, we in turn became more sophisticated at disguising them.

Say for instance a crank was seized, initially I could get away with removing the sump pan, disconnecting the con rods to allow the crank to turn, and then replacing the sump pan. Eventually though, Roger realised that when freed from the task of pushing the pistons, the crank was turning too easily and he would order his flunky to remove the sump and discover my subterfuge. I countered this by making shims to tighten the crank bearings, thereby simulating the correct resistance, Roger then took to examining the sump bolts for chipped paint, scratches etc, and if they looked like they had been messed with, he would have the sump removed, and so it went on.

For a period of about 3 months, Roger's flunky was a skinny ginger haired kid with acne and glasses. He was a real know it all who never stopped talking. He wasn't offensive, he just wouldn't shut up. He knew everything about everything.

His downfall was his insistence on telling Roger how to do his Job. In truth, he quickly became more proficient at spotting dodgy goods than Roger would ever be, often he did this by quizzing the suppliers and watching their reaction. He was very astute.

Predictably, his er.. enthusiasm was his eventual downfall. He made himself unpopular with both Roger and the suppliers and he was sidelined to some other job. We never saw him again.

When I say we never saw him again that's not strictly true. The other suppliers never saw him again but I used to like to arrive at Morgans very early in the morning on weigh in days, about 6am as a rule, which was an hour before they opened. That way, I could be first in the queue, and I could spend a quiet hour drinking tea from my flask and watching the mist rise on the Manchester ship canal.

Sometimes, the skinny ginger kid would roll up for work on his bike and spend 10 minutes standing beside me, watching the world come to life. During these times, he never uttered a word, except for the odd occasion when he would mutter something like "My God, it's beautiful".

The only time he spoke directly to me during our early morning reverie was once when I asked him his name. He stuck out his hand and said, "Chris Evans".

Think that tale deserved more love.

The problem is, we are all waiting for someone else to ask the obvious question - surely it was not THE Chris Evans, Lord Sir Wonderful Chris Evans?

[RED-DOG]

Thirty plus years ago, I used to sell salvaged engines and gearboxes to an export firm called B & S Morgan who were based alongside the Manchester ship canal in Warrington.

Each Monday morning the boss Brian Morgan would issue a list of the things they would require the following week. The list would look something like this.

TR7 engine and box.

Austin 1100 engine with 4 sync box.

Transit axles.

Rover 3500 speedometer.

Ford 1500 engine x flow head.

Borg Warner spring and lever clutch plates.

Etc etc...

So I would spend the week searching for the items on the list and then, usually on a Friday or a Saturday morning, I would load everything up and take it to Warrington to get weighed in.

When you arrived at Morgan's, you had the wait your turn in a long line of lorries and vans, then you would be invited to drive into a vast hanger like building that was filled to the brim with row upon row of shelving packed with used vehicle parts. There was just enough room to reverse between them and into a little clearing where your load would be checked off.

Brian Morgan's right hand man Roger was in charge of inspecting your goods, and he waged a constant battle with us suppliers. You see even though the parts we supplied didn't have to be in good working order, they did have to meet certain criteria. For example, an engine could be missing all of it's components save for sump, crank, block, head and rocker cover, but the block could not be cracked and the crank couldn't be seized. Unfortunately, a lot of the time those were precisely the things that were wrong with the engines we found.

Now if we could buy a cracked or seized engine for £20 and it would make £100 if we could get the fault past Roger it was a chance worth taking, so the whole thing developed into a huge game. As Roger became more adept at detecting disguised faults, we in turn became more sophisticated at disguising them.

Say for instance a crank was seized, initially I could get away with removing the sump pan, disconnecting the con rods to allow the crank to turn, and then replacing the sump pan. Eventually though, Roger realised that when freed from the task of pushing the pistons, the crank was turning too easily and he would order his flunky to remove the sump and discover my subterfuge. I countered this by making shims to tighten the crank bearings, thereby simulating the correct resistance, Roger then took to examining the sump bolts for chipped paint, scratches etc, and if they looked like they had been messed with, he would have the sump removed, and so it went on.

For a period of about 3 months, Roger's flunky was a skinny ginger haired kid with acne and glasses. He was a real know it all who never stopped talking. He wasn't offensive, he just wouldn't shut up. He knew everything about everything.

His downfall was his insistence on telling Roger how to do his Job. In truth, he quickly became more proficient at spotting dodgy goods than Roger would ever be, often he did this by quizzing the suppliers and watching their reaction. He was very astute.

Predictably, his er.. enthusiasm was his eventual downfall. He made himself unpopular with both Roger and the suppliers and he was sidelined to some other job. We never saw him again.

When I say we never saw him again that's not strictly true. The other suppliers never saw him again but I used to like to arrive at Morgans very early in the morning on weigh in days, about 6am as a rule, which was an hour before they opened. That way, I could be first in the queue, and I could spend a quiet hour drinking tea from my flask and watching the mist rise on the Manchester ship canal.

Sometimes, the skinny ginger kid would roll up for work on his bike and spend 10 minutes standing beside me, watching the world come to life. During these times, he never uttered a word, except for the odd occasion when he would mutter something like "My God, it's beautiful".

The only time he spoke directly to me during our early morning reverie was once when I asked him his name. He stuck out his hand and said, "Chris Evans".

Think that tale deserved more love.

The problem is, we are all waiting for someone else to ask the obvious question - surely it was not THE Chris Evans, Lord Sir Wonderful Chris Evans?

Well I can't really be absolutely sure, but I would be willing to take bets that it was.

Chris Evans the TV presenter didn't appear on my radar until several years after that, and even then I had no reason to make the connection. Then, after he became famous I saw him do a chat show where he spoke about growing up in Warrington and working various short-term jobs and suddenly I though, I know him, he's the mouthy kid from Morgans.

True story.

[tikay]

Chris Evans fanboy here.

On the topic above I seem to recall that when Chris sold his business he said that he then had enough ££ for the rest of his life and that he was then going to give away any other monies he earned to charity.  I am sure I did not imagine this ?

Steve

Glad to hear you are amongst Chris's millions of admirers, Steve.

Not sure that charity story is true, though it may be.

When he sold Ginger Media to Scottish Media Group, he was paid, I assume, in shares. He was later offered some £50 million for the shares but he declined, & eventually the shares became worthless.

I'm not really sure where his apparent wealth comes from - but he seems to be well caked up. Think he paid £12 million for a Ferrari a few years ago, & he has quite a stable of expensive, exotic cars.

Click to see full-size image.

[tikay]

Thirty plus years ago, I used to sell salvaged engines and gearboxes to an export firm called B & S Morgan who were based alongside the Manchester ship canal in Warrington.

Each Monday morning the boss Brian Morgan would issue a list of the things they would require the following week. The list would look something like this.

TR7 engine and box.

Austin 1100 engine with 4 sync box.

Transit axles.

Rover 3500 speedometer.

Ford 1500 engine x flow head.

Borg Warner spring and lever clutch plates.

Etc etc...

So I would spend the week searching for the items on the list and then, usually on a Friday or a Saturday morning, I would load everything up and take it to Warrington to get weighed in.

When you arrived at Morgan's, you had the wait your turn in a long line of lorries and vans, then you would be invited to drive into a vast hanger like building that was filled to the brim with row upon row of shelving packed with used vehicle parts. There was just enough room to reverse between them and into a little clearing where your load would be checked off.

Brian Morgan's right hand man Roger was in charge of inspecting your goods, and he waged a constant battle with us suppliers. You see even though the parts we supplied didn't have to be in good working order, they did have to meet certain criteria. For example, an engine could be missing all of it's components save for sump, crank, block, head and rocker cover, but the block could not be cracked and the crank couldn't be seized. Unfortunately, a lot of the time those were precisely the things that were wrong with the engines we found.

Now if we could buy a cracked or seized engine for £20 and it would make £100 if we could get the fault past Roger it was a chance worth taking, so the whole thing developed into a huge game. As Roger became more adept at detecting disguised faults, we in turn became more sophisticated at disguising them.

Say for instance a crank was seized, initially I could get away with removing the sump pan, disconnecting the con rods to allow the crank to turn, and then replacing the sump pan. Eventually though, Roger realised that when freed from the task of pushing the pistons, the crank was turning too easily and he would order his flunky to remove the sump and discover my subterfuge. I countered this by making shims to tighten the crank bearings, thereby simulating the correct resistance, Roger then took to examining the sump bolts for chipped paint, scratches etc, and if they looked like they had been messed with, he would have the sump removed, and so it went on.

For a period of about 3 months, Roger's flunky was a skinny ginger haired kid with acne and glasses. He was a real know it all who never stopped talking. He wasn't offensive, he just wouldn't shut up. He knew everything about everything.

His downfall was his insistence on telling Roger how to do his Job. In truth, he quickly became more proficient at spotting dodgy goods than Roger would ever be, often he did this by quizzing the suppliers and watching their reaction. He was very astute.

Predictably, his er.. enthusiasm was his eventual downfall. He made himself unpopular with both Roger and the suppliers and he was sidelined to some other job. We never saw him again.

When I say we never saw him again that's not strictly true. The other suppliers never saw him again but I used to like to arrive at Morgans very early in the morning on weigh in days, about 6am as a rule, which was an hour before they opened. That way, I could be first in the queue, and I could spend a quiet hour drinking tea from my flask and watching the mist rise on the Manchester ship canal.

Sometimes, the skinny ginger kid would roll up for work on his bike and spend 10 minutes standing beside me, watching the world come to life. During these times, he never uttered a word, except for the odd occasion when he would mutter something like "My God, it's beautiful".

The only time he spoke directly to me during our early morning reverie was once when I asked him his name. He stuck out his hand and said, "Chris Evans".

Think that tale deserved more love.

The problem is, we are all waiting for someone else to ask the obvious question - surely it was not THE Chris Evans, Lord Sir Wonderful Chris Evans?

Well I can't really be absolutely sure, but I would be willing to take bets that it was.

Chris Evans the TV presenter didn't appear on my radar until several years after that, and even then I had no reason to make the connection. Then, after he became famous I saw him do a chat show where he spoke about growing up in Warrington and working various short-term jobs and suddenly I though, I know him, he's the mouthy kid from Morgans.

True story.

Well the story fits, Wiki says......

Evans left secondary school at age 16 after moving into the sixth form,[8] and he then had a number of dead-end jobs in and around Warrington,


I think we ought to get that Chris Evans appreciation thread started.