Where things can get pretty igry ...Rick's Cafe Americain

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Only one league - the NBA - has ever made a credible case for a salary cap. They did it by opening their books, allowing the union to audit them, proving that the league was on the verge of collapse, and inviting the players to become partners in the revitalization of the league. The salary cap in the NBA is soft enough that it doesn’t really act as a drag on salaries and, as long as the well-oiled marketing machine of the NBA keeps printing money, will never be much of a drag anway (the cap number is linked to league revenue). 

Baseball shouldn’t have a cap. Neither should football. Both leagues are highly successful, highly profitable enterprises. Teams that lose money in baseball earn that red ink through stupid decisions in the general manager’s office and the marketing department. The NHL - purportedly bleeding money - is not quite the cash cow that the other sports are, but there is no way that the teams are losing as much as ownership claims. First, the owners are all savvy businessmen who have proven themselves to be - if nothing else - rational economic actors. I refuse to believe that they keep making the same “mistake” over and over again. It appears that other savvy businessmen don’t believe it either. Every time a team is up for sale there is someone willing to purchase the franchise at a substantial profit for the selling owner.

The league offered the players a bum deal and the players turned it down at substantial cost to themselves. Papers across the country are dutifully squawking the same sad refrain: the players are “greedy” (the owners aren’t?) and “owe it to the fans” to just sign and play (is this a professional gig or a charity appearance at a senior center?). The conventional wisdom of the press is unvarnished horseshit and I for one am glad that the union stood strong.

Of course, I’d rather watch college hockey anyway. Cornell is currently #3 in the country (or, if you are a pure stathead, #7).The ECACHL conference tournament is coming up in a few weeks, so I’ll have plenty of hockey to enjoy. Plus, I got to see Cornell blow out league rivals Princeton and Yale last week. They continued to roll this weekend. Cornell is a virtual lock for the NCAA’s, so I’ll have plenty of hockey to watch. 

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Department officials said they were preparing a news release and were waiting for Wal-Mart to pay the $135,540 before making the settlement public.

$135,540?! Way to make them dig deep, DOL.

Wal-Mart can’t claim ignorance—even though they did. The defining characteristic of Wal-Mart is its unmatched information management system. Every time a pair of tube socks is dragged across a register scanner the entire supply chain immediately feels the ripple. If an assistant manager in the Spokane cookware department farts, someone in Bentonville smells it and sends a memo back to Spokane. Wal-Mart rigorously monitors employee hours to optimize staffing levels (not to mention minimizes its health insurance costs). There isn’t even plausible deniability here. $135,540?! Maine fined Wal-Mart over $200,000 just a few years ago for the same thing - and that was for the violations in one state with only 20 stores.

Even if you want to argue that Big Brother doesn’t know everything, Wal-Mart knew:

A weeklong internal audit of 128 stores found 1,371 instances in which minors apparently worked too late at night, worked during school hours or worked too many hours in a day.

Wal-Mart claims the report was mistaken because it counted a holiday as a school day, but do you think Wal-Mart would conduct an internal child labor audit on a non-representative week? Neither do I. Wal-Mart is a repeat offender and the fine they have to pay is the corporate equivalent of a speeding ticket in Montana.

That however, is the second most appalling part of the settlement. Number one?

A provision also promises to give Wal-Mart 15 days’ notice before the Labor Department investigates any other “wage and hour” accusations, like failure to pay minimum wage or overtime.

To be fair, the NYT has run a correction because the article in the print edition inadvertently edited out a response from the Department of Labor. The spokesperson claims that the “15 days” provision only applies to child labor violations. I don’t believe the spokesperson—the article indicates that the reporter and the experts quoted in it were working off of a copy of the settlement agreement and I trust their basic reading comp skills. But let’s take her at her word and assume that is what the parties intended the contract to mean: it is still insane.

In the world of commercial contracts, this is known as “notice and opportunity to cure” provision. It is a standard way of preventing people from trying to invalidate contracts over small, easily remdied, technical breaches. This isn’t a commercial relationship, though. It is an agreement between a law enforcement agency and an accused violator of the law. This is the first I am aware that the cops needed to ask permission before they investigated. I assume this will become standard in all criminal investigations:

A search warrant will be executed in two weeks. If we don’t get a note from you assuring us that you currently have no crystal methamphetamine or crystal methamphetamine production facilities. If you happen to be making crystal methamphetamine, please correct this violation and send us a report of your plan to avoid such mishaps in the future.

Is that really how we want federal law enforced?

I have no idea how Wal-Mart pulled this off. OJ’s Dream Team lawyers are a bunch of ambulance-chasing hacks compared to the folks Wal-Mart is using.

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Do I think that robots will be useful in war and combat?  Yes.
Do I think that it is worth investing money in military development of robots?  Probably, if done wisely and prudently.
Is anything remotely close to the terminator going to be walking the earth in the next hundred years?  No Fucking Way!

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As all good home games should, there was a great deal of food. Pizzas arrived on time (a shocker on Super Bowl Sunday). The Wing Wagon had a line out the door, but the only-in-New York Chinese/Mexican takeout hybrid next door had no line at all. And 100 wings were the same price. We had olives, good cheese (thanks Toni!), wine (thanks Helmut and Consuelo!), mini-meatloaf footballs (thanks Sous Chef!), lemon bundt cake (thanks Rebecca!) and more. I was afraid that someone was going to throw up at the table. (Coach has a story about that, which he would be more than happy to tell you. Ask for the short version.)

We started playing at the end of the first half because we knew that if we started watching Paul McCartney’s halftime show we would kill ourselves. My table only seats 9 comfortably, so Brother of Ugarte and Rebecca nobly backed out and joined the other non-players watching the football. The non-poker-players were laughing a lot. Probably on account of all of the wine. The poker table was relatively somber. Probably on account of all the wings.

I should have written earlier. The result of the delay is that I remember very little about the game.

I do remember that the women were far more aggressive early in the tournament than the men. Zinester and Lisa built large stacks early by betting hard after the flop. Lisa’s aggressiveness eventually betrayed her when she overplayed her small aces one too many times. The second-to-last time, however, came at a time when Zinester was busy overplaying an even smaller ace. Also, aggressiveness on the flop is ineffective if one always folds on the river. I’m talking to you, Sous Chef.

Josh and Helmut - two notoriously loose-aggressive players - kept going head-to-head. Helmut kept winning. Eventually Josh was gone.

I busted Chris when he pushed threes into my pocket sixes shortly after running into my QQ with AT. I was busy winning other pots without a showdown so I slowly took the chip lead.

Toni and Cathy were flying under the radar. Surviving without too much combat. Toni routinely overbets the pot by design. When I had a hand I pushed back; usually I didn’t. She never had the aces that I needed to worry about and I don’t recall a showdown.

We soon got down to three players and I had the chip lead over Cathy and Helmut. It wasn’t a very big chip lead. When Cathy laid a bad beat on Helmut to clean him out, I was way behind. The cards were not helpful and I went out in second. That meant in two days I had played in two tournaments. Both times I fell to the women of Kelley Drye & Warren, where I had my first law job. As if I needed another reason to hate that place.

Most people left after the first tournament, but Brother of Ugarte joined Josh, Zinester, Sous Chef, Helmut and me for a second tournament. Again I had the chip lead early, again I blew it. This time I blew it in heads-up play. I bluffed at Josh one too many times and miscalculated the size of my lead very badly.

Two tournaments, two second places. Finishing in second twice wasn’t bad, but I set myself up to win both tournaments and fell short both times. Then again, it could be worse. Hard to complain when you have good company and good food anyway. Especially when you restrained yourself from placing a large bet on the Patriots - and giving the points.

I should, but will not, write about the monthly game at the Churchwarden’s that took place this past Wednesday. For a regular game, it had been somewhat irregular since November so I was relieved that the game didn’t fall apart. The game was as much fun as I have had at a poker table in ages but I can’t convey that on paper. It is my favorite game in the city and I’m glad it is back.

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I helped with the ad copy and took the colon photo but the idea and the majority of the writing are hers.

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As per usual, I arrived late to the tournament. At the 2:30 scheduled start time, I got a call from Ferrari asking where I was. At the time I was just getting back into my car. I belatedly realized that I had (a) not eaten anything all day and (b) had only $4 in my wallet. A quick stop on 14th St. and 8th avenue to pop into an HSBC and a sandwich shop and I was on my way. It turns out that it is much easier to find parking near the Blue Parrot on Monday nights than it is on Saturday afternoons. I ended up parking four blocks and an avenue away. At least the walk gave me time to finish my sandwich.

When I arrived I was told that I had only been blinded down 150. The table started laughing but I didn’t get the joke. It would have been more effective if I had be told the blind structure first. Instead, first they told me I was down 150 ... second that they were only kidding ... third that the blinds started at 10/20. Ha ha! Without knowing what the starting blinds were I really had no way of knowing if “150” was unreasonable. Anyway, I was only down 30 of my starting stack. (2000? 1500? I didn’t count or ask.) I took over as dealer because I was in the best position to do so (the table at the Parrot is much longer than it is wide). I managed to fumble the cards exactly zero times. asphnxma will never believe me.

Going clockwise around the table (starting on my left) were Mas, Toby, Derek, Toni, Ferrari, Pauly, Coach and Julie. For those counting: barely half of the players at the NYC Poker Blogger Invitational were, in fact, poker bloggers.

I took a few pots down early by being aggressive with my chips. I wasn’t calling, just raising. I became one of a series of people to push back at Ferrari. I was the only person willing to push back at Toni. My tight reputation was getting my raises plenty of respect at the table, so I wasn’t showing down anything. Then my cards went ice cold. I just folded for an eternity and waited for cards.

Pauly was the first to go down, the victim of a vicious one-two punch administered by Julie and Derek. Pauly raised preflop and only Julie stayed in with him. The flop had two Broadway cards and two clubs; Pauly bet the pot. Julie pondered for a bit then said I shouldn’t call but I’m going to. The rarely expressive Pauly’s face broke when the turn was 3♣. He checked the turn and Julie checked back.  (I may have the order backwards; I don’t recall where the button was.) The river was a brick and Pauly checked again. This time Julie threw about half the pot into the middle and Pauly, muttering I can’t believe she caught the flush mucked his cards. Julie offered to show her hand if Pauly wanted to see it. Pauly said yes and she turned over a busted gutshot draw. No clubs. No pair. Pauly looked like he got kicked in the stomach, but he took it like a man.  Not long after, Pauly reraised Derek all-in. Derek thought about it, looked at his tower of chips (and Pauly’s modest pile) and called, expecting a race. He flipped over AK and Pauly yelped Fuck! and turned over AQ. Brothers they may be, but they sure don’t collude. Pauly, out in 9th place.

A quick aside: I am often told that Brother of Ugarte and I look exactly alike. I don’t see it at all, but since strangers are always asking us if we are twins, I concede that I am wrong. Which brings me to Pauly and Derek. They don’t look exactly alike by any means, but they have the exact same eyes. If you only knew Pauly, hadn’t seen him for a few years and then ran into Derek, you would almost certainly say “Hey Pauly!” (or vice versa).

After Pauly busted out, attention turned to Ferrari as the shortstack at the table. He guaranteed that he would not be the next person out. With the swagger and gamesmanship that made Joe Namath famous, he then did not play another hand until Derek busted out Toby. I’m guessing he mucked aces at least once. He went out shortly after when he pushed with AK. Julie thought about it for a few seconds and then called with KJo. A jack on the flop sent Ferrari to the losers lounge happy with the way he played the hand. Julie blew off his attempt to discuss the wisdom of the call with the equivalent of Cameron Indoor Stadium chanting Scoreboard!

That said, the dominant theme of the day was Julie winning after making questionable calls. Her play on Pauly aside, she was almost always behind when the cards were turned over but she just kept winning. (One exception: Toni went runner-runner against Julie to add a flush to her pocket tens to stay in the game, but Julie never should have called her preflop raise with K6o.) That made the way I went out particularly painful.

Julie wiped out Mas by calling his push with 88 and catching her overcard, so we were down to 5. The blinds had climbed to 150/300. My cold cards had been coming for ages, so I was starting to steal blinds to stay afloat. I pushed with J8s, TT and AQ. I finally had enough that I didn’t have to make every move an all-in. Julie limped UTG. She had been limping all game with a wide range of starting hands. I had AJ and raised to 1000. Derek, Toni and Coach folded and Julie called. Do you hear the warning bells? I didn’t. When the flop came 7 high and Julie checked, I pushed. I figured that if she had a small pocket pair (or just a piece of that raggy flop) she would have to respect my preflop raise and get away from the hand. Based on her prior calls, I was thinking KQ, AT maybe 66… I call Aw crap. AA. I needed running spades or running jacks. When the turn was the not-jack of not-spades, I was drawing dead and out in 5th.

Derek has the rest of the action because he was there to see it. I took a few minutes to cool off and then joined the 2/4 ring game already in progress in the losers lounge. Congratulations to Julie and Toni, who chopped when the heads-up play dragged on for too long. There is also a report from Pauly but Mas and Toby have yet to write anything.

I bought in for $40, sat down and—as is typical of any time I play at the Parrot—I immediately got into a dispute with Ferrari. He wanted me to post in a five-handed game, but waited until after I had been dealt my cards to tell me. I remember playing 2/4 at the Parrot. People came and went from the game back in the day and never had to post. So of course Ferrari accused me of “violating a house rule.” Somehow I managed to refrain from telling him to fuck off. I think. Either way, they relented and two (folded) hands later I was the big blind.

I won a big hand off of Ferrari when I hit top pair with KTs. I had called his preflop raise from the BB and we capped the flop when it came K high. I knew that Ferrari didn’t have the king and I am sure that he didn’t think I had it. I suspect that he had jacks or a decent ace. He called my raise when the board paired 3s on the turn. He check-called on the river when a third three came out. Show me the king, said Ferrari. And I gladly did. Then I went to work on Toby, who didn’t deserve the beats she took.

I was in the big blind with K7s. Ferrari limped (I think) Toby raised and either Pauly or Mas called. Getting at least 5:1, I called as well. The flop was K high again and I check-raised Toby, who called. I immediately put her on a better king and was ready to slow down until I caught my second pair on the turn. I check-raised her again. The river was a brick and I bet out. She called What’s your kicker? My kicker is another pair, I replied.  Two hands later I took another big pot off of Toby when I flopped two pair with KT.  You are killing me with two pair!

I gave some of it back when I raised Mas’s blind with ATo and the flop missed me. I bet anyway, and he called. We checked the turn (brick) and when he bet the river (brick), I folded face up. Ferrari was shocked that I released a good ace, but I know that Mas defends his blinds like a mama bear with her cubs. He was going to call with ATC. When I explained my thinking, Mas admitted that he paired his 3 on the flop.

I leaked a little more to Ferrari when I made two pair on the flop, but he called and caught his flush on the turn. He says it was the river but he is wrong. Or he is a worse player than I give him credit for because he definitely wasn’t getting the odds to try for runner-runner. Either way, I was foolishly blind to the flush possibility until the fourth diamond hit on the river and it cost me extra bets.

Pauly and Toby burned through two stacks of $40. Mas finished +$22, I was +$23 and Ferrari took the rest of it. I don’t know where he got all of that damn money, because it didn’t look like he was winning many pots.  He had a lot of it when I sat down, but he went down and then back up. I’m starting to think he was sneaking chips off of my stack.

I followed up the NYC blogger event with a low-stakes Super Bowl poker tournament at my place, so the poker keeps on coming. That report will be up in a day or two.

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I was a late arrival to the table. I had a 7:00 show at The Duplex and decided to stick around after my set to watch some of the other comics. It is both a courteous thing to do and a good way of seeing what is out there. I also met Alex House and chatted with her about Tuesday’s meeting of the New York Comedians Coalition. It is good to see how many comics in the city are supporting the movement.

Anyway, I had the foresight to register in advance so I didn’t get shut out. Just a little blinded off. So, what did I miss before my arrival…
QKo ... 64s (this was the hand that knocked out the first player. lifesagrind went all-in preflop with AKo against DropDHammer‘s AA.) ... 92o ... A6o (I actually won this hand. I was in the big blind and the table folded to me. Inexplicable, actually. By this point it was clear that I was sitting out but larryvq still folded instead of raising me. Some bully! He finished in 19th, though, so maybe I shouldn’t give him too hard a time.) ... A8o ... T3o ... Q2s ... 42o ... KK (Dammit!) ... J3s ... KJo ... 85o ... JTo ... Q9s ... KQs (Dammit!) ... Q2s ... And then I arrived for Q3o. Fold.

It soon became obvious that Trafficant was the table bully. Not only was he raising preflop often, he was berating the table. He decided to pretend that he ended up in the tournament by accident and had his share of anti-blogger comments:

Trafficant: score one for the blog haters
* * *
Trafficant: i hate the internet
* * *
Trafficant: i remember the good old days when clueless ***ks kept their dumb opions to themselves. now they all have poker blogs.
* * *
Trafficant: blogs are like a cowboy hat, sooner or later every ******* gets one
* * *
aboutmattlaw: word is Iggy is out in case folks are interested in that stuff
Trafficant: word is bloggers all suck
Ugarte’s: yawn, trafficant, yawn

Even though I accused him of shining us on, he persisted in his ruse. He persisted even though his reference to “the drunk midget that put the tournament together” blew his cover. He wanted to have fun, though, so there was no point in getting too beligerent in response.

As all of that was going on, I was slowly bleeding away. We were now on Level 3 (25/50) and my cards were awful. It turns out that I had much more playable stuff before I sat down. Between the blinds and a series of missed flops, I was down to 970 and had to make a move. When I got AQo on the button, I raised it to 200. BigSlickNut - who I barely had covered - made a minimum raise to 400. I pushed. He called and turned over Presto! (pocket fives). I caught a king and a ten on the flop and then a jack on the turn to make my broadway straight, (almost) double up and knock out BigSlickNut in 121st. I’m with asphnxma - he really should have pushed those fives. I probably would have called, but the minimum raise was the wrong play with his stack size.

Not much was going on with my play, but I did get a pleasant surprise when stannum50 joined the table, which led to another round of chat:

stannum50: hey ugarte, been reading you for ages, dont take all my chips k?
asphnxma [observer]: ugarte has a reader?
Ugarte’s: you’re the guy?
asphnxma [observer]: who knew!
Trafficant: who the hell is ugarte
asphnxma [observer]: lol
stannum50: yeah, well, i can only read the small words. i write in small words too
Trafficant: what self respecting person would call themself ugarte?

Obviously Trafficant was continuing his ruse, but I have to quibble with one thing: when did I ever say that I was self-respecting. (Also, that plural pronoun was out of place.)

Trafficant then started criticizing everybody’s play. And getting even ruder. This got people fighting back.

Trafficant: now you blogmonkeys are really unlucky. im done with the real tournament. can focus on this low $ piece of crap.
stannum50: dont waste your itme on our account
Ugarte’s: so we are really unlucky because you lost somewhere else?
TNSpaceman: ha
squaptor: nice
aboutmattlaw [observer]: I’m not even playing anymore, and you’re still driving me nuts, Trafficant
stannum50: we arent worth it, really

Trafficant annoyed Artoch so much that he put a knockout bounty on Trafficant: $10 and a half-empty pack of Pall Mall Reds.

By this time I had pissed away half of my chips again and I was down to 800. Push or fold territory. So when I was dealt A♦T♦ in the cutoff, I went over the top of Trafficant’s raise all-in. He had to call, and turned over KQo. The flop had two diamonds but no other help. The turn was a king, leading Trafficant to start cheering for his bounty, but the 9♦ was my money card. Doubled up again.

Soon after, Otis joined the table and sat down as the table’s chip leader. I didn’t make the Vegas trip, so I don’t know as many of the other bloggers as some of my friends do. But CJ and Otis were the first poker bloggers that I found when I googled “poker blog” and the first guys to link me. Now that Otis is doing so well, I am very happy for him. I appreciated this exchange also (even though it went on amidst yet another “poker lesson” from Trafficant after he sucked out on Artoch’s AQ with AT):

OtisBDart: How’s the business of being charles star?
Ugarte’s: not bad. good set before the tournament. set went better than the cards
OtisBDart: good.  hope to catch your act someday if i can make to the city

Trafficant finally copped to his identity (because he wanted to email Otis) and that calmed the table down somewhat. He did keep harrassing TNSpaceman about his play, though, which probably made it extra sweet for TNSpaceman (KQs) when he called Trafficant’s all-in (77) and caught a king on the turn. I don’t know if Artoch stuck around long enough for TNSpaceman to collect the Trafficant bounty. Or if TNSpaceman smokes. (Jason and Matt, by the way, have been sniping away at each other on their respective blogs. No love lost between those guys.)

I was bouncing between stealing blinds and getting blinded. I had respect at the table because I was playing tight. If I were smarter I would have stolen more blinds, but I did not. I soon found myself back at 900 and at Level 7 the antes started. I couldn’t afford to pay 25 a hand or get pushed around. So the first thing I did when I sat down was say hi. i’m shortstacked. please don’t raise my blinds. And when I looked across the table, there was CJ—and he had even more chips than Otis. Those guys can play.

I certainly couldn’t afford to have Spock326 moved to my table with a huge stack. Because Spock326 is Signor Ferrari, and I knew that he would be licking his chops at the prospect of chewing up my blinds. That is just what happened, though. He sat down and instantly said bring it ugarte to which I could only reply bring it with what? I stole the blinds from UTG just so I could pay my next round and, as expected, Ferrari raised my big blind. I had K5o - and I probably should have pushed - but I wouldn’t have been able to face Ferrari today at the NYC blogger event (especially in front of Pauly) if he bounced me from the WPBT. K5o wasn’t worth the risk.

I stole blinds twice - with AQo and ATs - but when I pushed with KJo, easy_wind called with ATo and bounced me when neither of us got any help. I placed a bounty on myself in Pauly’s comments section - a comedy album/book to be named - and once I choose it, it will be on its way to Sommerville, Massachusetts. I have to admit that I was disappointed when easy_life went out just a few spots ahead of me. I was hoping he would take my coin farther than that.

I hung around and watched the end of the tournament, but the first thing I saw was Ferrari tilt away his stack. It was a surprise, because Ferrari is a very good player. Between you and me, I think he is a better player than I am - but I don’t think he plays me particularly well. It started with a typical hand - I don’t remember whether Ferrari had QQ or AA - but whichever one he had, he doubled someone up. Even if he was behind, getting all of his chips in was the right play, so whether it was a bad beat or a brutal preflop reveal, it started the downhill slide. A few hands later he raised UTG with 22 only to be called by a shortstack with 88. Those two beats left him well below average, but strong enough to wait for a hand. He didn’t wait, though, and pushed K9s - which didn’t hold up. Like I said - Icarus.

Congratulations to Kid Anonymous who had the greatest run of cards I’ve ever seen when the table got down to three players.

Final finish for the NYC bloggers participating in tonights tournament:

25: Toby
38: Ugarte
62: Pauly
104 Derek
105: Mas (who sent his brother in his place)
114: Coach (He got knocked out right before I went looking for him to sweat his action.)
127: asphnxma (who, tragically, won’t be able to play today)
???: Monte Christo (I don’t know if he even played in the WPBT.)

Joaquin just announced that he has a wedding to go to, so he won’t be at the NYC Invitational. He has been replaced by Toni. Nixma’s seat has been taken by Julie, who has proven herself tournament tough.

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A few thoughts while I analyze my hand history and think about what I want to write.

Al Can’t Hang auctioned off pieces of himself. Then he busted out in second-to-last place. Is anyone else thinking of The Producers? (This wasn’t the tournament he was selling himself for. -ed. Still, it is a sign of what is to come, is it not?)

asphnxma busted out early and made it to A.M. I hope he had better luck there.

I saw so many reversals of fortune where a player was behind preflop, caught a piece of the flop/turn and got slapped back on the river. So painful to watch. Except the time it helped me out. More tomorrow.

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It seems that brothels are now posting positions in job centers and a refusal to punish benefits-recipients for turning down work can lead to a suit by the brothel against the job center. The epitome of heartlessness is one such brothel owner:

Tatiana Ulyanova, who owns a brothel in central Berlin, has been searching the online database of her local job centre for recruits.

“Why shouldn’t I look for employees through the job centre when I pay my taxes just like anybody else?” said Miss Ulyanova.

Stop frowning sweetie, the customers are complaining. Now wipe off your face and get back in the lounge.

Hat tip to Read Less...

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I showed up late because I wanted to check out Invite Them Up, a weekly Wednesday night show hosted by Eugene Mirman and Bobby Tisdale. It really is a great show. For $5 you get to see some of the best young comics working today. I hope to get booked into this show soon, but the comics they usually get are (a) friends of the hosts and (b) much more experienced than I am. Fingers crossed.

I made it to A.M. just before 11 and bought in late; I had missed two levels so I forfeited 225 of my initial 2000 in missed blinds. And then sat down in the big blind for another 100. I didn’t get cards worth playing for two full orbits - which didn’t stop me from limping in from the SB once ... and throwing away my cards as soon as the flop came down. I was soon down below 1300 without playing a single hand.

The room was freezing - the result of a door left wide open by the smokers - and I had made the ill-thought-out decision to wear a short-sleeved shirt. To the extent that shaking hands is a tell, I was giving out false signals all night. I was knocking over my stacks and fumbling with my bets because I couldn’t feel my fingers and wouldn’t admit to myself that I should just put my coat on indoors. Everyone was affected; the normal reactions just weren’t there. I don’t know if I can translate it to the page, but imagine an all-in hand where the shortstack moves in with AT and gets called by AK.

Now imagine a T on the flop. Then imagine a K on the river to bounce the shortstack.

Now imagine that each of these revelations is met by the table with the same shock/excitement/noise as if someone had announced “I like my pancakes with syrup.”

In any event, I got my stack from 1300 to 3500 by aggressive bets on flops and turns and, when the tournament went from two tables to one, I moved to the final table. asphnxma was already gone. What followed was a pathetic run of bad fortune interrupted by one good hand.

Every time I was in the big blind a short stack moved all-in. Every time it happened I was sitting on a shitty hand. Every time it happened the pot odds demanded that I call the small raise. Every time it happened, the shortstack’s hand held up, doubled up courtesy of yours truly. The only good luck I had at all was - in the middle of paying other people off - having my crabs hold up against AK when I pushed. Nobody pushed with other people in the big blind; somehow it was always my responsibility to make the call and—pot odds be damned—the cards didn’t come through for me once.

Eventually it caught up with me. As the blinds climbed higher and higher, I pushed in with ATs. Sporto, the big stack by a large margin, pushed to isolate with KQo. Strangely, Jed called with his medium stack and A8. The flop brought a king and I busted out in fifth place (and Jed left with me in fourth).

I stuck around to deal the longest head’s up match I’ve ever seen, with Sporto finally knocking out Tiger.

I’ll tell you this: Committed, shmomitted. Fuck pot odds. I’m dumping shitty big blinds next time. Why do I have to be the table cop?

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