Hail, Caesar
Okay, assuming Blogger doesn't screw up again tonight, I'm finally going to get this trip report out of the way.
First things first, I'm feeling a little red-faced over my pre-trip fears about the level of competition I would be facing. Oh my, was I ever wrong. I think I ran across four people all night who appeared to have any grasp about how to play. I guess when you play whatever limits are the lowest offered, which in this case were 3/6, you get the dredges of the poker-playing world.
This is not to say I made money. You might assume that if I felt I faced an overall inferior group of players, I would have cleaned up, but you would be wrong. No, I managed to lose roughly $110 on the evening.
The night started off pretty well, even if I did have to make a major suckout in order to drag my first pot. Oh, it wasn't pretty at all, but I was happy nonetheless. It started with me getting K10 in the SB. Now, K10 is normally a throwaway hand for me, especially from first position, but we were playing limit, the pot hadn't been raised, and there were so many people seeing the flop, it just felt right. Anyway, enough justification. When the flop came K 10 x, I was feeling even better about my decision. Having picked up Gary Carson's book earlier that day and reading the advice to rarely, if ever, slow-play, I led out betting and got a few callers. Next card is a Q, and I'm a little worried that someone just made a straight. I bet anyway, and my fears were realized when the fellow across the table raised me. However, he was in late position and I had seen him a couple hands earlier bet a scare card when he actually held quite a bit less. I decided he could have just as easily made a lower two pair, plus I had four outs. Okay, it seemed like better logic at the time, but the point is, I called, as did one other fellow. Glory hallelujuah, the river put another 10 on the board, giving me a boat. This time I said, "Screw Carson," and check-raised the eventual bet. Both called. Sure enough, my opponent had made his straight on the turn. The cold-caller had done so with a 10-7. (Calling third pair, 7 kicker, with all sorts of scariness all over the board? Yummy...)
A couple of hands later, I won another healthy pot, but I don't remember the details. But after an hour of play and having played and won and grand total of two hands, I was up over $100.
I wish I could remember that second win, because those first two were all I had for the next two-and-a-half hours. No shit. I got the ass end of the deck every way imaginable, and on the rare occasions when I actually made a decent hand, a better one was out there waiting for me. Case in point was when I picked up 55 on the button. I decided to raise preflop, not necessarily on the strength of my hand, but to narrow the field. In the first hour I played, I could remember only one or two hands that were raised preflop, so I thought I could scare off most of the limpers, and it worked. Only three of us saw the flop, compared to our usual seven. Then the flop gave me trips on a board of 5610. Even better, or so I thought, was the guy in first position betting into me. I promptly raised and was promptly reraised. Uh oh. Alarm bells. Something wasn't right. This passive table had not seen a single reraise the entire time I had been there. This guy must have some kind of hand. I ended up calling him down, trying to convince myself that he had slow-played AA preflop, or that he had flopped two pair, or even that he was trying to scare me off because he assumed the flop had missed me completely. Instead, he turned over a set of 6s that ate my set of 5s alive.
Later, I would get AKs, raise it preflop and narrow the field to the big blind and a woman with a constant expression of constipation on her face who had just joined the table. The flop comes 8 high, but gives me a four-flush, so I just keep betting, even when the turn doesn't help me either. The river did bring me a K, but by that point I figured it hadn't really helped me, so I checked. I was glad to see the others also check, but that quickly turned to bewilderment when constipation lady turned over K8 for top two pair. Why the hell hadn't she bet that? Surely she thought it was good. Well, I was glad she did, because I would have had to have called with TPTK, even if I didn't feel good about it.
And it went on and on and on. The goober who had called third pair on my first win kept pounding my ass, and everyone else's too, because he had the knack for playing the perfect two crappy cards that would win. It seems like he must have won half of the pots he played, and he played nearly all of them. He would raise and reraise with bottom pair, only to catch a set on the river. He backdoored so many flushes and straights during the course of the night that I began to wonder if his mother had given birth to him anally. To top it off, he had a half-drunk smugness about him that said, "What did you expect? I played the nuts -- 94o." When I looked at his stack as I was leaving for the night, I estimated him to be up around $500 from when I sat down.
But, despite the fact that I got crapped on all night and lost over $100, I can't really say I was disappointed with my first trip to a casino. Nor do I feel that I played all that badly, most of the night. Oh, there were stretches when I tilted just a tad, but the great thing about playing live is that you can get over it before too many more hands are dealt. But for the most part, I feel like I actually played better than I usually do online. The results just didn't show it, due to a horrible run of luck and a great night for the goober. Actually, it was probably bad luck for the goober, too. The way he was hitting everything he touched, he should have played Powerball instead of wasting his time at the poker table.
Not that I played perfectly, or even close. Having grown more accustomed to no limit, I can see that I overvalued some hands and underestimated to what lengths people would draw in limit. I also realize that I was, at various times, too nervous, too cocky and too tired to play effectively.
As for Caesar's itself, I was pleased with my room, the casino and the service I received. The food at the buffet was far better than I expected. The only negative on the night was some of the dealers I encountered. There were a couple who were clueless and would routinely attempt to award the pot to the wrong person, there were others who were pushy and rude, and there was one notable example who was the worst of both worlds. But there were, of course, others who were pleasant and professional. All in all, I plan to go back.
But now it's getting late, and my mind is starting to fail me. I would say that there is more I'm leaving out, but I'm so tired right now I can't really be sure of that. For now, though, it's time to get some rest.
First things first, I'm feeling a little red-faced over my pre-trip fears about the level of competition I would be facing. Oh my, was I ever wrong. I think I ran across four people all night who appeared to have any grasp about how to play. I guess when you play whatever limits are the lowest offered, which in this case were 3/6, you get the dredges of the poker-playing world.
This is not to say I made money. You might assume that if I felt I faced an overall inferior group of players, I would have cleaned up, but you would be wrong. No, I managed to lose roughly $110 on the evening.
The night started off pretty well, even if I did have to make a major suckout in order to drag my first pot. Oh, it wasn't pretty at all, but I was happy nonetheless. It started with me getting K10 in the SB. Now, K10 is normally a throwaway hand for me, especially from first position, but we were playing limit, the pot hadn't been raised, and there were so many people seeing the flop, it just felt right. Anyway, enough justification. When the flop came K 10 x, I was feeling even better about my decision. Having picked up Gary Carson's book earlier that day and reading the advice to rarely, if ever, slow-play, I led out betting and got a few callers. Next card is a Q, and I'm a little worried that someone just made a straight. I bet anyway, and my fears were realized when the fellow across the table raised me. However, he was in late position and I had seen him a couple hands earlier bet a scare card when he actually held quite a bit less. I decided he could have just as easily made a lower two pair, plus I had four outs. Okay, it seemed like better logic at the time, but the point is, I called, as did one other fellow. Glory hallelujuah, the river put another 10 on the board, giving me a boat. This time I said, "Screw Carson," and check-raised the eventual bet. Both called. Sure enough, my opponent had made his straight on the turn. The cold-caller had done so with a 10-7. (Calling third pair, 7 kicker, with all sorts of scariness all over the board? Yummy...)
A couple of hands later, I won another healthy pot, but I don't remember the details. But after an hour of play and having played and won and grand total of two hands, I was up over $100.
I wish I could remember that second win, because those first two were all I had for the next two-and-a-half hours. No shit. I got the ass end of the deck every way imaginable, and on the rare occasions when I actually made a decent hand, a better one was out there waiting for me. Case in point was when I picked up 55 on the button. I decided to raise preflop, not necessarily on the strength of my hand, but to narrow the field. In the first hour I played, I could remember only one or two hands that were raised preflop, so I thought I could scare off most of the limpers, and it worked. Only three of us saw the flop, compared to our usual seven. Then the flop gave me trips on a board of 5610. Even better, or so I thought, was the guy in first position betting into me. I promptly raised and was promptly reraised. Uh oh. Alarm bells. Something wasn't right. This passive table had not seen a single reraise the entire time I had been there. This guy must have some kind of hand. I ended up calling him down, trying to convince myself that he had slow-played AA preflop, or that he had flopped two pair, or even that he was trying to scare me off because he assumed the flop had missed me completely. Instead, he turned over a set of 6s that ate my set of 5s alive.
Later, I would get AKs, raise it preflop and narrow the field to the big blind and a woman with a constant expression of constipation on her face who had just joined the table. The flop comes 8 high, but gives me a four-flush, so I just keep betting, even when the turn doesn't help me either. The river did bring me a K, but by that point I figured it hadn't really helped me, so I checked. I was glad to see the others also check, but that quickly turned to bewilderment when constipation lady turned over K8 for top two pair. Why the hell hadn't she bet that? Surely she thought it was good. Well, I was glad she did, because I would have had to have called with TPTK, even if I didn't feel good about it.
And it went on and on and on. The goober who had called third pair on my first win kept pounding my ass, and everyone else's too, because he had the knack for playing the perfect two crappy cards that would win. It seems like he must have won half of the pots he played, and he played nearly all of them. He would raise and reraise with bottom pair, only to catch a set on the river. He backdoored so many flushes and straights during the course of the night that I began to wonder if his mother had given birth to him anally. To top it off, he had a half-drunk smugness about him that said, "What did you expect? I played the nuts -- 94o." When I looked at his stack as I was leaving for the night, I estimated him to be up around $500 from when I sat down.
But, despite the fact that I got crapped on all night and lost over $100, I can't really say I was disappointed with my first trip to a casino. Nor do I feel that I played all that badly, most of the night. Oh, there were stretches when I tilted just a tad, but the great thing about playing live is that you can get over it before too many more hands are dealt. But for the most part, I feel like I actually played better than I usually do online. The results just didn't show it, due to a horrible run of luck and a great night for the goober. Actually, it was probably bad luck for the goober, too. The way he was hitting everything he touched, he should have played Powerball instead of wasting his time at the poker table.
Not that I played perfectly, or even close. Having grown more accustomed to no limit, I can see that I overvalued some hands and underestimated to what lengths people would draw in limit. I also realize that I was, at various times, too nervous, too cocky and too tired to play effectively.
As for Caesar's itself, I was pleased with my room, the casino and the service I received. The food at the buffet was far better than I expected. The only negative on the night was some of the dealers I encountered. There were a couple who were clueless and would routinely attempt to award the pot to the wrong person, there were others who were pushy and rude, and there was one notable example who was the worst of both worlds. But there were, of course, others who were pleasant and professional. All in all, I plan to go back.
But now it's getting late, and my mind is starting to fail me. I would say that there is more I'm leaving out, but I'm so tired right now I can't really be sure of that. For now, though, it's time to get some rest.
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