(As sent to the BARGE mailing list. Subscribe now!)
The story you’re about to read is true. Only the facts have been changed to protect the innocent.
I wanted to be positive for the trip, but COVID is not what I meant.
I wasn’t masking, and I didn’t test soon enough. I thought that symptoms I had were smoke-related (partially true) and exhaustion from festivities (also partially true). So I had a lot more fun than I should have. I’m sorry about that.
I also didn’t take notes, so I have no idea what actually happened. Please excuse any errors or omissions. Or write your own trip report, I really like reading them.
I was really looking forward to BARGE: Vacation was arranged, flight was booked, hotel was reserved. I had everything except my Saturday night Binglaha seat locked up weeks in advance.
On a Friday in mid-June, my boss asked for a quick one-on-one. Sure. How are you. I’m fine. You? Good. Hey, we’re shutting the company down, effective July 1. Uhoh.
I decided BARGE was a no-go unless I lined up a new job. So I start applying for jobs, and occasionally helping wind down my soon-to-be ex-employer.
Around the same time, both of my twins had COVID, one after the other. Minor symptoms, but still COVID. And right before they had it, I had a cold, also minor symptoms. I figured my cold was probably also COVID, and I’d have some immunity for BARGE.
And I could still do the Calcutta. I dutifully registered. I conscripted Chris Kuntz to be my money mule in the event that I couldn’t make BARGE. In retrospect this was a pretty unkind thing to do, because if he had had to manage the logistics of the buybacks for my 29 lots, he would probably have killed me.
I have a model for pricing horses. Is it any good? Hard to say. What it is, is automated. I start running up the pool, because I think it’s more fun when the pool is large. Also I am outbidding people constantly, which gets funnier every time I think about it.
The bot I have is half-baked, as I only get once a year to test it. And there are always bugs because the way the horses are listed isn’t consistent year to year. So I was messing with something and I decided to jack up one horse’s relative value and see what the model would do. I weighted myself at 1000—par is 100, and I rated myself below that based on my results. Then I ran the command to see what I’d be valued at. $97, ok, sure, that’s about right…
Then I noticed what I had actually done was to run the command to enact that value. Now, that’s a minor problem, because most bids are increases of $1, so I kill the program, big deal I overbid by $1… but no. I had implemented a jump bid feature that would increase the value to 1/2 the estimated difference between the current bid and the target, which turned out to be $55. At least the bug had a sense of humor.
Chris Kuntz had 1/4 of the “syndicate” (i.e., me). During BARGE, Peter Secor offered to take 20%. I talked him up to 25% to spread my pain.
The Thursday before BARGE, one of my interviews came through with a solid offer. I accepted it while I was at BARGE, and started a few days after I got back.
I got to Vegas on Wednesday afternoon and went to dinner with a bunch of folks who were out of the NLHE Funbook tournament. (I was pretty sure the Funbook tournament would have made my head explode, I made sure to arrive in town after it had started so I couldn’t possibly accidentally enter it.) And there I got named as an ADB. We forgot to talk about the last longers.
I played a little 1-2 NL that night until real late, had a few drinks (including one after California last call, my self-serving “protest” against California alcohol laws) and went to bed +450.
I woke up on time Thursday for the stud shootout. At some point I took an ibuprofen to ward off hangover. Of course, this also served to mask any COVID symptoms.
I didn’t last long in the stud shootout. I had a couple eight-or-better hands that I played aggressively that didn’t pan out. I lost quickly and went to a cash game.
I also avoided Chinese Poker (I never learned to play it well) so I just went and played HOARSE. We had a dumb argument about whether it was going to be HORSE or if we were going to sub in Action Razz. Once we got that sorted (which involved us all paying Larry $1) we got going. Amusingly, it was HOARSE on the board for the rest of the weekend.
I wasn’t going to play 5-card PLO, but Dave Low talked me into it. Much to my surprise, I took 2nd place.
Heads up, I had Rick M out-chipped by like 1M to 60k. He doubled through my aces. I had two more all-in shots to knock him out, and then he had me out-chipped. We went all-in one more time and he won. Oh, well, 2nd is pretty good for a tournament I wasn’t going to play. (Rick, I’m sorry I didn’t take the maple syrup. It looked delicious, but I didn’t want to have to check a bag to get it home.)
Later I realized this was Dean’s fault. He had said he was rooting for me when we got down to just a few players. It was like a curse.
Later, I was added to the ADB chat, where everyone was told to pay Dan for the ADB last-longer. I wasn’t sure if I was in on that or not. So I somewhat jokingly objected, and Rich said everyone should pay me. That sounded good to me and Rich gave me $10. Then I realized if I was in on this, I owed Rich for the Stud, and gave the $10 back to him.
Late night, I sat down in the 1-2 NL game and pissed away 500. Actually I only pissed away 150 trying to play fun, inebriated poker with a bunch of weak-tight stereotypes, then got involved in a pot with a tourist. I had KK and raised, he re-raised, I 3-bet, he jammed. I should have known he had AA but called anyway.
Friday morning, I played the TOC. I was a little card-dead in this. I never had the cards that would have gotten me through. I went out somewhere in the second half of the field. But at least I think I played OK.
At some point I was starting to feel bad. I thought it was sleep deprivation from a couple late nights, and also drinking, and also a little bit of cigarette smoke that has bothered me in the past. I went upstairs and took a nap around 8 or 9 PM. In retrospect, I often take naps when I have COVID; but also I take naps when I don’t have COVID, and have stayed up too late playing poker, and just don’t want to go to bed. And so I just assumed I had a bad case of BARGE.
I woke up around midnight and went back down to the poker room.
The dealer’s choice game had an open seat. A few BARGErs were in the 1-2 NL, surrounded by tourists, but it was full. I asked about the DC game and they were actually playing some rotation, and that sounded fine. (What I try to avoid in the DC games is the part where someone names a game, then it turns into a round of Nomic while the rules get hammered out. This was fine.)
My first game was Archie. I folded my first hand and started looking at my phone, as one does. There’s a draw, oh yeah, it’s triple draw, let’s look at Facebook some more, and… then the dealer said she had forgotten to burn. An argument ensued as to what the correct fix-it procedure was. Seats opened in the NL game. I got up, figuring there would be fewer arguments.
I was not correct.
The NL game was amazing, but slow. Most of the players would fold to a big raise most of the time. Lots of players with stacks that were 10 high instead of 20, (my favorite tell of “I usually play at the kitchen table and am afraid to knock my chips on the floor, please take advantage of me”). One player, Seat 6, a big, obnoxious guy, had a big, sloppy chip stack. Chips stacked real high in tilting towers that would have been at home in Pisa, somewhere between 30 and 40 high. He was pretty in love with himself, giving lessons on how he was “fishing” at the table.
The game was slow because seat 6 would chat about his action and was generally distracted by whatever, particularly drink ordering. Well, anyway, it’s a good game.
Arthur was one of the players in the mixed game. I told him this was a good game, so he came over and put on a demonstration as to how to beat the shit out of a game like this. He played almost any hand looking for a flop. J2 flopped a boat and he rope-a-doped a ton of money out of one of the tourists. I tried to stay out of his way. I have never found success playing trash, I usually try to wait out a real hand, but even I opened up a little. I was treading water, stealing here and there, waiting for a big hand that would never come.
A new seat 5 sits down at about 4 AM. New seat 5 tended to peek at his cards by bending them way up in the middle so everyone except the dealer can see, which tended to show them to seats 4 and 6. Seat 6 was repeatedly vocal about this.
Seat 5 and 6 get into a hand. Flop KJX, no spades. Seat 6 put a bet out of $17. Seat 5 was thinking. Seat 6 says “You got spades, fold. Here let me show you,” and grabs Seat 5’s cards and flips them over. (Seat 5 did not have any spades.)
This was so unexpected that we all couldn’t remember if he had a chip cap on the cards. I think his hand may even have been on them.
An argument ensued. Seat 6 maintained the guy folded, which was ludicrous. We all said didn’t, but it didn’t matter – if you expose even the muck, your hand should be killed. Arthur got Seat 6 to apologize, which he did; but then when the followup was that Seat 5’s cards were live, we went back to the argument, that seat 5 had folded. Lather, rinse, repeat.
Danny, the floorman, was in the box dealing. After this loop had been repeated for few minutes, and seat 6 seemed to be getting downright belligerent, he split the pot between the players and closed the game.
Terrible decision but no longer my problem. I racked up as fast as I could and cashed out first.
It was just before 5AM.
Saturday morning, I feel kind of OK. I always felt better when I’m in my room, away from cigarette smoke. Between a few good hours of sleep, and my nap, I felt fine, maybe a couple cramps attributed to the tournament chairs. I take an ibuprofen. I get to the NL on time with a giant hot dog from the snack bar for breakfast. I guess it was good, but more importantly it was expedient.
I built a pretty respectable stack with what I thought were suboptimal cards. My table never broke. I kept accumulating bustout prizes which I was stacking wherever I could find space. I guess I need to start bringing a backpack. And I’m still around for the dinner break.
Goldie goes out. I win a Go4Goldie bet for the first time.
I tagged along to dinner with a group with Doug, Dave, Katie, Bob G, to a Mexican place off-strip. We order for speed. I eat all I can in 20 minutes. Only later did I realize I walked out without thinking about the check.
We’re back just as cards are in the air.
We start losing players, and I’m about average in chips. Maybe up, maybe down. I get lucky with some steals.
Connie Kellers is on my right in the small blind, and opens for a standard raise. I have her comfortably covered. I look down at KK. For a moment, I think about how to play this. Could she have aces? No, it’s blind-on-blind, it could just be a steal. What else can I do?
“All in,” I say.
Connie hesitates, long enough that I know she doesn’t have aces, and rechecks her cards. Then, “Call.”
Aces.
And they hold up, too. I question my play, since this is the second time in three days where I’ve taken KK against AA, but this time it’s just bad luck.
Now I’m short, but I steal my way back to a healthy stack. A table breaks, and Rich Bremer gets moved to my table. At least I have more chips than Rich.
Four ADBs are left. I figure if I can just outlast them, I can cover most of my buyin with the ADB last-longer.
I get all-in against Rich. I win, now I have the pile of ADB money in front of me, and his card-protector-bottle-opener.
We make a save for 16th and so we have all made the money.
Dave Low goes out. I had offered a LL to Dave, and he countered with a last shorter. I have never beaten Dave in a LL, and I didn’t beat him in the last shorter, either. -5
A couple ADBs were at the other table. I don’t see Katie disappear, but when Edmund Hack goes out in 11, I’m overjoyed to get to keep the pile o' money.
Russ starts handing me payout envelopes for my Calcutta debacle. People start asking for their share. I start having trouble dividing by 4, somehow math having suddenly become difficult. I think I ended up having like 6 people cash, but unfortunately I had a lot of the bottom of the pay table.
But I still had myself, and I was still in.
We get down to the final table (!) and there are people smaller than me, so I politely let them go out first. I steal what I can. I keep laddering up.
I steal the blinds with 32o and an open jam, probably the best hand I played in the tournament. I think you can see this on the video on Facebook. Check the comments section for the timestamp. I think this was a hand where I was real sure to put the tip on the cards before I pushed them to the dealer because I sure as hell didn’t want anyone knowing I was stealing with 32o.
Somewhere in here, I realize that I don’t feel very well, and the ibuprofen has clearly worn off. In the moment, I decide that is the excitement of getting deep in the Main Event, and the little bit of smoke wafting in from outside the sportsbook.
We get to 4-handed. The structure sheet says the big blind ante is now the small blind value. I have not read the structure sheet. Also not reading the structure sheet, we have the three other players left in the tournament, the dealer, and the tournament director. We continue to pay the expensive ante.
Now the next WTF thing happens. We’re playing with 5k chips, that’s fine, but the blinds are getting big. We’re pushing stacks of 20 at each other to make 100k. It sucks. The TD says she’s going to get higher-denomination chips. Good. She gets 100k chips, but decides to make them worth 10k. She walks to each player still in and explains this. I heard the same explanation three times. I can’t believe we went along with this, but it’s been a long day. We later got 25K chips, which were of course actually the 25 chips, which was causing me considerable confusion, perhaps because of the fever.
Sam goes out, mostly to Len G. Now all the stacks are relatively healthy. I I’m short, but not by a lot.
Len and Ben get into a huge pot. Good for me, I stay out of the carnage. Len loses, then Ben busts Len G on a subsequent hand. I’m looking at the second place plaque. I can live with that, but I might be able to thieve one more pay jump.
I steal with J3o. Ben calls with A7o. I catch a 3 on the flop and it holds. I am up 4:1.
Then I jam again, Ben calls (Q8 vs 88?) and I’m up more like 3:2 or 6:5.
With a slight chip advantage, I start stealing smaller. I think I’m turning a small steady profit. But in reality we’re really not playing that many hands. The dealer is confused because of heads-up procedure. Ben isn’t super familiar with it. Personally, I’m having trouble following the “ante is the small blind amount” even though Russ explains it to me six times and I do know how heads-up works.
It’s about 10:30, and I get to thinking. If I steal big, I might lose. If I steal small, I think I can whittle Ben down. But we’re going to be here all night, and I want the trophy more than I want all of the money. Plus, I want ibuprofen before I start feeling worse. Ben seems tired, too.
“How much do I have to pay you so I get the trophy?”
I offer an ICM chop: I get the trophy (my final steal). Ben says OK.
I ask the TD if she can do an ICM chop. Frankly this is out of politeness because there are like six BARGErs watching the table who can all do it correctly, but I defer to her because it seems like the right delegation of responsibility.
The numbers she comes back with give second place even less than second place money.
“That’s not right.”
“But that’s what it says.”
Asya starts arguing, and everything she’s saying is right, so I let her jump up and down on the TD for a while, just chiming in that she’s right. Asya explains how you’re supposed to do this and the TD eventually kind of listens (it’s hard to tell) she comes up with another set of numbers that are close enough to Asya’s that we go with those.
Rodney takes a picture. We stage a picture with a mighty J3o (not necessarily the J3o, just any two would do) and the pile of chips.
So I won BARGE. Well, does anyone win BARGE? Aren’t we all winners for the memories and the lulz and the drinks and the togetherness? Aren’t all the people who cash in the tournaments winners? Can you really win when you made a deal?
No, I won BARGE, I have the trophy right here. Thanks to Dean for saying nothing whatsoever this time. Thanks to Doug Grismore for the encouragement reminding me not to fuck it up. Thanks to Patrick Milligan for running monthly tournaments as a competent TD so I knew how blinds worked heads up. Thanks to my wife and kids for suffering while my weekend in Vegas turned into eight days.
I take a little timeout in my room (and ibuprofen) and come back downstairs. Patti gives me a sash. I am giddy.
Bob Gilbert asks me for his 1%. I think he’s kidding. It takes me a little while to realize I left the restaurant without paying. Bob offered to pick up the check for 1% of any action. I refuse for some reason, and give him the full cost of my meal, which is more than 1% by $1.
Chris Kuntz and Brian Fazio are eating Brian’s onion rings. I talk Chris into breakfast at the Peppermill. I wish more of Vegas still looked like the Peppermill.
We eat and come back and go check out the poker room. Dan Goldman and Sam Scheinberg are trying to get Binglaha going. And we have a quorum, and it’s a moral imperative. But the poker room doesn’t. have. enough. dealers. for. Binglaha. So no Binglaha. I decide finally to just go to bed instead.
I tried to sleep in Sunday, but I couldn’t. I caught up on Calcutta accounting. (I still owe tegwin $9.) We lost $82, so I billed Peter and Chris. I would later let Chris Kuntz hustle me at pinball, so I think I currently owe him $10.
I wanted to make sure I was testing negative given how I’d felt last night and the fact that someone had announced a positive COVID test, and I wanted a mask to wear for the flight home. One sojurn to the Walgreens later, I got back, and took the COVID test. Instant positive result.
So I did a different kind of BARGE hangover this year, sitting in room 12-106 watching the Monorail go by. A day or two later, Dave Low and Doug Grismore got me a room at the Nomad (thank you!) and I watched the roller coaster at NYNY instead. Fortunately my fever was gone by Tuesday. I finally went home on Thursday, having rebooked my flight home four times.
It was an atypical BARGE for me. I spent a lot of time in tournaments, which never happens. I went the distance in two events and went pretty deep in the TOC, really cutting into my cash game time. No Binglaha! I didn’t even drink that much, partly because I just didn’t feel like it, partly because I wasn’t drinking much in the tournaments.
I know I got a few people drinking Space Dust, but I don’t think I had more than two the whole time I was there. It’s good, you should try it.
Thanks to the organizers for a great BARGE, and the Westgate for being a great BARGE venue and having Space Dust on tap.
My kids are very impressed by my trophy, which is pretty neat.
Lastly, thanks for the money.