Sunday, November 28, 2010

EL CORTEZ POKER; THEN SHUTTLE TO AIRPORT

I love the poker at the El Cortez. Some of the best poker players play there; however drifting in and out of the mix are some of the worst players as well. They don't last long.
I aspire to play well and to mix up my game so that my table image is tough to pin down.
My toughest challenge is to be patient and throw away hands that should not be played. Those semi-good hands will cost me money. Others will play them, especially Ace-rag because the call is just one dollar. But I want to be on the river with a much higher Ace.
I did win once with A-2. It was my blind and A-2 flopped and then another 2 as well. A fine full house. But that was a fluke.
I also won with A-6. I flopped two pair and bet it and was called too. The turn was a 9, I bet and was called. The river was a 9. This is the reason not to play Ace-rag. Here I have all this money invested in the hand and my great second pair becomes a weak kicker. Incredibly, no other caller held an Ace and I win with Aces over nines and a six kicker.


Characters at the table:

Many of the old tyme players are gone, but a new crowd of daily rocks have replaced them. Most sit and play very tight poker, grinding out a good bit of profit. Some come every day.
Jackie Gaughn was there again but just a small shadow of his
former self. There is no hearty, "One for the money." and when one fellow asks, "Do you remember me?" Jackie just gives the stock, "Sure, you're the one who took my money."
Jackie remembers very little.
So sad to get old.
Gary has another beard, a chin brush gone long. He is his usual even tempered delightful bantering self. He comes and goes, but he is there most of the time. I took him down one night and sent him home, but the next day he recaptured the little I won from him and more.
There are plenty of quiet old surly rocks who have only distain for the tourist banter and the half baked theories about what to play and why and what they had and how they would have played it had they had something else.
One of the loudest is a new face who announces to a woman who plays only on the internet that he teaches this game for a living and then proceeds to play aggressive, bad poker. The woman leaves. I wonder why a guy who teaches the game for a living is not out playing no limit, or why he gets so mad when a really good, quiet, steady player always has better cards than he does.
Doug is the fellow who could teach the game.
He is not an old guy like most of us, but seems to be there every time I play. I think he plays around the clock. He is very studied, very tight, and tough to beat. He tried to sully his own table image by showing a bluff now and then, but generally if he bets, he has his opponent beat. He cannot be read.
Eskimo Ron is not always my favorite player. He is often angry at everything and rants like Archie Bunker only more mean spirited. Still it is interesting to play with an Eskimo fisherman and the day after he wins the high hand of the day award, he is in better spirits and tells stories. He tells about bringing in the four whales allocated to each village each year and cutting them up for distribution to the whole community with the best cut reserved for the Greek Orthodox priest who has blessed the hunt. He tells us that none of us beef eaters have tasted anything as delicious. He loves to talk about eating what he calls " bull nuts" just to see, I suppose how people react.
Some of his stories may point to why he is so angry and surly. All shot up in Vietnam and of his fellow marines, thinking he had little time, stripped him of all his gear. And each time I have played cards with him his father at 17 told him it was time for him to move out. He does not tell too many details about the fishing he does a few times a year in Alaskan waters. He is my age or older but in good shape. His arms are huge and hard. I would not want him angry at me.
I remember years ago the first day I played with him and how quietly angry he was. But now he knows me and I can banter a bit.
There is more talk around this table than most poker tables. Alex, a young electrician, talks about his work and the different pay tables in Nevada and Arizona. Another fellow is a welder. An older Black man talks about the new rules that stop drinking or smoking even in the public park in a development where I gather he lives.
The staff is much the same, but they don't tell as many stories. They ask about me, but I don't have too much to tell really. I don't want to complain about my cold. All in all this a very comfortable crowd to end my time with. I was up in the first two sessions but lost it back playing the final day, too lose, too tired, but it was my last day.
One night I use the once every other day $5 comp offer and get half off on the large prime rib at the Cafe.
On my last night it is fine to be able to play right up until the last couple minutes before the free shuttle leaves for the airport. Mark is still driving and we talk a bit about poker.
Another couple are there who play slots and video poker, but have not figured pay tables beyond the one book they read by Lenny Frome. I talk a bit too much I suppose, and I think they resent that. I tell them a bit about computer tutors, but they don't want to know, really. Their 1994 Lenny Frome is enough for them. After that when they ask a question, they ask it directly of Mark. They just want to talk to him.
Mark stays with sports and no limit and shares some sense of the card rooms. He is interested in many things and especially surprised to hear that I can get free rooms with only live poker play from Harrah's and how I arrange the rooms of my trips.
so is was a good trip, except for this cold I brought home with me.

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