So it was off to Malta one week ago to work at the WPT, which was being held at the Casino at Portomaso. It is always interesting when visiting casinos on different countries, as the rules are always slightly different, and sometimes slightly amusing.
If you are Maltese you can drink from 16, and believe me they do drink, but you cannot enter a casino until you are 25. If you are a "foreigner" that you can enter the casino when you are 18. You cannot smoke indoors in Malta, although the casino has a glassed enclosed gaming area that does permit smoking. (All bars and clubs have no smoking signs and there is a €500 for having a crafty puff, although nobody cares and everyone smokes in bars and clubs in Malta). While the drinking law is interesting, and what we would call a "style" bar charges €24 for a bottle of Smirnoff with mixers, there are not heaps of kids falling about drunk and fighting. Maybe it is because there is an international poker tour in town, but there was certainly lots of adults doing the former.
Since this is supposed to be a poker blog, and personal time was in short supply, I should really provide you with the comedy of my week trying to play the game. I took the fancy on Thursday night after dinner that four days of watching, registering and talking about the game meant I was itching to say "raise". I made to 2 minute trip from the Hilton to the casino and the fun really started.
I was told to register with the cashier, easy as pie you may think, until she produces 8 pages of names an membership numbers. "You are not on the list!", comes the short reply as I was offering money buy into the €30 re-buy. This did not fluster me, as I would be compromising the truth if I said that I had not heard those words before. In a previous life as a club manager, I will also admit to proudly saying them as well. The easy solution was to offer to go back to reception in case their record of my arrival in casino had not been processed correctly, although this was re-buffed when I was told to speak to the Poker Room Manager.
I felt sorry for anyone working, or trying to play in their the card room, as they had 4 tables of Italian package winners and sponsored pros throwing chips around like confetti and letting the whole room know about it. Even then, I persevered and enquired about the tournament. Amazingly when holding and international event, they cap the game at 30 players (which I understand), but they do not permit "foreigners" to play. As someone who is rarely politically correct, being called a foreigner in a forgein country does not phase me, and while I thought about doing a great speech about Britain and the Commonwealth, but as there was another casino at the end of the street I kept my sensible head on.
Thinking that a lack of WPT refugees would be at the cash tables in the Dragonara Casino next door was Plan B. Hopefully I could find the usual array of local fish, two holiday makers and the drunk 50 year old American who insists on showing the only female at the table what is the optimal play. In my experience the intoxicated fellow from the larger ex-colony normally does advise the correct thing to do, granted it was the right play circa 1999.
Sadly the lack of cash tables meant I was player 36 in the €25 Freezeout, in the smallest poker room I have been in, on the smallest country I have been in. The standard of player seemed to match my predictions, and I eyed up a player whose blinds I would be stealing from the cut off and hijack, as his seat did not seem to have a fold button, or he had chosen not to learn that word.
So we are in to the action, its a 10k starting stack with a 1k punctuality bonus. I have won a small pot and lost a small pot, and pretty much got a decent grasp on the players, apart from the guy on my left who has not put a penny into the pot, and I sure was ready to fold his BB with 3 limpers! My target who was actively winning pots, mostly with a third barrel when the river was a seemingly harmless card, so I was delighted to pick up the black queens when it was his BB. Level 2 had just started, so I casually opened for 3x, was please with myself when everyone fold to him. I had already folded a couple of small, marginal hand to him, so when he popped me back up I was more than happy to 5 bet for half of my stack. What I had not expected was his reply of moving all his chips over the line. I might not play as much as the old days, but I announced, "Thats a brave move with Ace high", and his face said it all. I called and tabled my queens, and he proudly should AKo. While I was happy to take the flip, I was happier to have made the correct read, and if I win the flip then I have the respect of the table, and twice the amount of chips as everyone else.
When you get the dream flop of 258s to go with your black queens and you opponent has AK in the colour red, it is a satisfying feeling when you know he is drawing to 5 outs and you have more cards to improve your already winning hand than he does. The other thing that never, and I mean never ever, changes is the sting when one of them pops on the river, somehow made worse by the fact it was the Kc which for a fraction of a second could have been the Ks.
So back in blighty and ready for a hectic couple of months as we plan 2 weeks of poker in Prague, and the Regional and National finals of Poker in The Pub to organise and run. It is probably the most interesting job in the industry working across the spectrum of players from grass roots to proffesional. Last week I was on a hotel balcony drinking with a WCOOP winner, an Ex-November niner, a well known TV pro and an online grinder, next month it is pub players with a dream about Las Vegas. I enjoy them both in equal measures, and love talking about and playing the game.
No comments:
Post a Comment