There’s no chip clatter or people chatter going on at Bellagio tonight. The poker room is manned by Suzie, (Swing Shift Supervisor), a cashier, a few security guards, and lots of empty tables. The whole casino is dark.

The unthinkable has happened…Bellagio has shut down. The culprit? A truck hit a transformer on Frank Sinitra Blvd. (the street that runs behind Bellagio) and wiped out Bellagio’s power line/source. That’s the initial stance on what created the problem.

The tournaments are on hold.

Las Vegas Review Journal report

Las Vegas Sun report

His name is Asher. The guy that flopped a pair of 10’s and was beat on the Turn when he made Jacks and 10’s in the $10-$20 Blind NLH…previous post.

Friday night found me starting in the pit, dealing almost all Satellites and a few live games. Most of the satellites were for the $5,000 buy- in NLH event on Saturday.

When I landed in the dealer’s chair of the satellite that Asher was in, it was three handed. Freddie D., Asher, and Cy. Asher waited until I shuffled and dealt and then did a, “I still think you must have exposed a card…”

I looked right at him and calmly, flatly stated, “No. I didn’t.”

“There’s no way he could have continued with the hand unless he knew…”

I replied, “He made a straight when you made two pair. He had an open ended straight draw on the Flop.”

“I’m not saying you did it on purpose…it’s bothered me for five days.” It hasn’t even been five days since it happened.

Me, “I never expose cards when I deal. My hand is always level with the table when I hold the deck.”

“I don’t think you did it on purpose…”

Calm as a mommy trying not to slap the brat that keeps pulling her daughters hair, I replied, “If I rolled my hand with the deck in it, you would be able to see an exposed card since you were in the 3s. It would be impossible for him to see it in the 10s.”

He dropped it for awhile and went on to win the Satellite. He tipped me, pretty damn well for what I see in Satellite tips, and still persisted…even though he was smiling, “I still think you must have exposed a card…”

I laughed. “No. I didn’t. What’s your name?” as I put my hand out to him. We shook hands, he left.

I’m sure he still believes that I created a drift in the integrity of the hand but he’s completely off base. I still believe that if he’d won the pot, he would never have thought any such thing…but that doesn’t make him a bad guy.

*****

The differences in players and their attitudes about everything…

Table 11, $500-$1,000 Mixed Games. Unknown – 1s, David O. – 2s, Abe – 4s (2 and 4s both having been on the WPT), and Ralph P. – 7s.

Two young cuties, along with their escorts, waltzed over to survey the table. They had the look of WPT watchers just checking out Bellagio’s action. The girls walked right up behind David and one of them even bent down to look at his hole cards when he looked at them.

I did a, “Hey-hey-hey!” to back the girls up a little but David stopped me almost before I got the second ‘hey’ out of my mouth.

“I don’t mind,” as he opened his hand so they could look at it. They stepped up closer, almost leaning on the table, as he talked to them about poker.

In the meantime, two young guys were standing about seven feet behind Ralph and he demanded, “Clear my back! I don’t want someone behind me,” directed at me.

I asked them to please step away. Just as they started to move, David invited them over to watch too, saying something like, “It doesn’t bother me, I’ve been on TV.”

Funny in a way…the girls and their escorts eventually drifted off but when I returned from a break and entered another game, the two guys that were chased away from Ralph’s back, were still sitting behind David.

*****

The room is packed, tamped down tight, and ready to blow. There’s a capacity listing for the room on a small plate, up by the ceiling, near the main entrance to the room. It feels as if there are three times that many people in the room during my shift.

I still find myself searching for the answer to the eternal question: “Where do they come from and how do they get here?”

*****
I was part of this project. Sweet!
Howard Lederer’s ‘Secrets of No Limit Holdem’

Along about 2:15 a.m., while lounging on an empty table on break, Jimmy asked David (a new dealer) if he needed a break or was ready to push at 2:30. David said he’d deal at 2:30. Jimmy asked me if I wanted to clock out for the night. Y-E-S!!!!

I almost felt guilty when I told David he would be dealing the game from hell…but not guilty enough to stay another half hour. Table 16…usually a great spot in the line-up…but tonight it was the $100-$200 Blind Pot Limit game that usually runs in the high limit area.

David looked like a Little Lambkin being led to slaughter when I told him what the game was and he said, “I’ve never dealt Pot Limit before.”

I gave him a brief run down on taking time, how the pot size was figured, and then took him over to the table. All the usual suspects were there. George P., Ben R., Sammy F., Hamid D., Robert W., and others.

I tapped Robert W. and introduced him to David, loud enough so the table could hear. It went like this, “This is David and he’s going to be your dealer in a few minutes, he’s never dealt pot limit before so help him out if he needs it.”

While Robert (wonderful person that he is) was agreeing, Hamid turned to me and barked, “What the fuck! Why should we get a dealer that’s never dealt the game before?”

I said, “Help him out then. You don’t want him to make a mistake.”

Harmid, “Fuck! Why should we have a dealer that doesn’t know what he’s doing?”

I said, “He’s coming through the game. Management sent him here. Just help him if he has a problem.”

Poor David. Getting the ‘blow up’ from Hamid and he hasn’t even sat down. I walked back to the Page area with him, explaining that Hamid really wasn’t a bad guy, just a hot head. David took it all pretty well.

I clocked out and hit the road.

The next night I dealt to Hamid in a $800-$1,600 Mixed game. He was spanking his chips and having a fit as usual. A woman walked up and gave him the ‘long lost, where you been, and how the hell do you look so good’ routine. The game was running three handed and I just chimed in, “It’s all that clean living.”

Hamid looked startled, looked at me, and then agreed, “It is that clean living.”

When I got pushed, I stopped behind him and gave him a 15 second shoulder rub. He barked, “When are you going to deal me a winner?”

I laughed. “I have, you just never remember those times.”

“You always deal me off.”

I quipped, “I’ve dealt you lots of winners. You have to stop thinking like a player.”

He laughed then and I escaped to the next game.

*****

$10-$20 Blind, NLH. At the end of my down, huge pot, the 3s flopped top pair, 10’s and bet $100, got called by the 9s that had a Flush draw, and the 10s that had an open ended Straight draw. A Jack popped off on the Turn, giving the 10s the Nut Straight, the 3s two pair, and the 9s still had a Flush draw.

During this hand, the conversation between the 5s and 10s had been about being taped on a poker show which will be aired on television and the 10s appeared to be spaced out on the show…this statement being given by the 5s. The 10s explained that he had a ‘stem’ in his eye. His eye was all scratched and irritated, etc.

The 10s bet around $2,500 all-in. The 3s barely thought about it, and called approximately $1,200 all-in. The 9s, thought, counted out her chips, recounted, thought, and finally did a ‘what the hell’ kind of thing and went all-in also with a little over $700.

The Straight held up and won the pot. I pushed all the chips to the 10s and while I was pulling the deck together, I asked, “Stem? What is that?” OK…I’m a dummy…I thought it was a medical condition.

He explained that he’d been blowing a pipe to clear it out and a stem had blown into his eye. I did a, “No way!” kind of thing, shuffled and dealt the next hand. The 3s and the 9s had already pulled out money and they were dealt in.

The 3s now accused me of cheating in a subtle, slimy way. “I wonder if you exposed a card?”

I went totally blank at his statement. “What?”

He was looking at my left hand, holding the deck level to the table, and repeated, “I wonder if you exposed a card?”

I said, “No. I don’t expose cards.”

His response? “Only the experienced dealers do it. The new dealers never do.”

The 9s chime in, agreeing with him, and repeating what he said.

I was enraged that he would think I was cheating. I jumped, “No! I never expose a card and I don’t want to be accused of it.”

I got pushed after that hand. First of all, I got stiffed by the guy that won the pot. Second, how could I expose a card in a manner that the 10s could see it and no one else could without rolling my hand completely over? If anyone could see an exposed card, it would be the 3s. If he’d won the pot, he would never have any such idiotic thoughts…typical! He plays so damned good that he has to be cheated to lose!

*****
I was part of this project. Sweet!
Howard Lederer’s ‘Secrets of No Limit Holdem’

The chips were disbursed in the 7 Card Stud Satellite when I tapped the dealer out…I would be dealing the first hand.

Right after Sam G., in the 2s, raised the opener, got called and ended up being the caller on the Sixth Street and the River, and was shown 5’s full of 7’s by his opponent, I got slammed into the middle of the Dialogue Dance Floor. Sam G. was my opponent…ahhh…errrr…dance partner.

He was grim and unforgiving as he tried to stomp my toes on every spin and turn. “Just what I wanted, a 40’s hippy for a dealer.”

I spun and stepped away, dealt the next hand, and he started again, “A 40’s hippy for a dealer…”

“I don’t talk about you when you play, Sam. Why are you talking about me?”

“Who said I was talking about you?”

I laughed.

“Why are you laughing?”

I replied, “I think you’re funny. The whole world thinks you’re funny.”

I slipped away, out of reach as I dealt the next hand. Sam lost the first two hands and then got low carded for the next three or four.

He picked the players to dance with and left me alone for a few minutes, “You just can’t out play these idiots…you have to be lucky.”

Within a few hands, he was back, “Ok, Jane Fonda!”

I busted out laughing. What the hell else can you do here? The 1s and the 3s were laughing their asses off too. The 3s kept watching me to see if I was taking offense at any of this.

He grumble, mumbled me for a few minutes, some of it was so low I couldn’t hear it and I really didn’t want to hear it. He told me he wished I’d end up on the street. I laughed even harder and managed to step on his toe, “Why would I end up on the street? I have a job.”

He grumbled that I should be on the street.

I replied, “You could always get a job if you wanted one.”

Several players agreed that Sam should get a job as Sam danced with all of us now, telling us that he played too good to get a job. It was damn hard to keep a straight face in this game. I found myself laughing all the way through it.

A sweater walked up to talk to the 1s and uttered some ‘Potty Mouth’ kind of words. Sam danced with him too, “Watch your language, there’s a lady dealing this game.”

In the midst of my spitting laughter, the sweater humbly apologized and Sam looked defiantly at me and pounced…trying to step on my toes again…”You liked that one, didn’t you?”

I demurely replied, “Yes. Thank you, Sam.”

A minute later, Sam was swearing. Then he did something like this, “An acid dropping, Woodstock Hippy in the box…” and went into some song.

I countered with, “I was never a hippy, nor did I do any drugs. While the rest of the world was doing them, I was burying a husband and trying to figure out how I was going to raise kids by myself.”

The 1s said, “This conversation has gotten a lot deeper than it should…”

I danced around him, “If you’re going to open a can of worms, be ready for what’s inside.”

The 3s said, “She’s right, she didn’t start it.”

Sam stated he didn’t have a worm, he had a one eyed snake…the boys roared over that one.

The whole game was moving briskly along all the time the ‘dance’ was in progress. I got to set out of the dance for a brief moment when we lost the 4s…he did some strange betting on nothing and, after he left the table, the conversation went to where he was and what he was thinking kind of thing.

Sam slammed me right back onto the dance floor with another statement about acid dropping, Woodstock hippies.

I still couldn’t stop laughing. I asked, “Would you just shut up?”

He asked me why and I said I couldn’t deal with all the noise going on. He asked me why I didn’t retire and get out of there. I told him I didn’t play as good as he did and had to work for a living.

He tried to stomp on my toes again…telling me I looked like his grandma.

I replied that he wished his grandma looked as good as I did. The boys roared over that one. Sam told me he wished I was talking to his grandma…I’m assuming she’s passed on and he wishes I was dead.

I said, “I like you. You just don’t like me because I deal poker.”

He said, “You never deal me a hand. You always break me.”

The dance was almost over…just a few more hands…Sam won them both!

As the next dealer tapped me out, Sam was crying, “Don’t leave, baby! Come on, honey, stay here!”

I gracefully left the dance floor and laughed my ass off all the way to the next game.

*****
I was part of this project. Sweet!
Howard Lederer’s ‘Secrets of No Limit Holdem’

Friday night at the zoo!

Ahhh…an expression that might not please corporate management but it seems to be the bottom line. The question would be who are the caged and who are the free? We are all trapped. No matter how we try to explain it or ignore it, we all have our chains. Our bondage manifests itself in different vices and traps designed by self!

The zoo? It’s home: a place I visit; people I interact with that add ‘a pinch of this and a dab of that’ to my over view of life. D-A-M-N! And I make a living at it.

The room was a screamer. It seemed the whole world wanted to play poker at Bellagio and they were there, waiting for seats, lists a mile and a half long, people milling in and out, satellites and live games running on the tables in the pit, noise and confusion…and hot. Nope, I wasn’t having hot flashes. It was just damn hot, everywhere in the room.

I started in the pit, dealt a few games of the $2-$4 Blind WPT NLH…they were gambling…and then two Super Satellite games. After a break, I was on my way to Table 1. Sheesh! Is this going to be a habit or what?

Table 1 was a 10 handed, $100-$200 Blind, Pot Limit Omaha game. George P. was in the 5s this time. He won several pots, in the neighborhood of $5,000 or more, and was pretty calm.

The game was smooth, I happened to be right on when asked the size of the pot, how much the raise could be, etc. Happiness and a pat on the back from me…it’s not always been that way. Dealing pot limit isn’t really difficult, it just takes time to adjust to it and I’m much better at it now than I was a year ago. When it’s an occasional game, it’s tough to get into the mathematics…now that we are dealing it on a steady basis, it’s much easier. I’m sure I have a lot more mistakes in me though, so don’t hold your breath.

One hand went heads-up with Ralph P. and George, a lot action with George checking and calling Ralph on every street, except the River…George bet, Ralph called.

George won the pot by catching a Q on the River to match his pocket Queens, giving him Queens Full. Ralph was in the 10s and pitched a Queen – sailing it right in front of my face into the area of the 2s.

Sam F. came up, said hello to everyone, including me, and chuckled over the game, the players, and the action…he was here to play. Before I left for the night, he was in the game jamming.

The last hand I dealt, the pot was around $20,000. Jason went all-in pre-flop and George and the 4s semi went to war on the Flop, building a $5,000 side pot, and checked the Turn and River. George won the pot with a pocket pair of 10’s.

He was one bundle of happiness when I left the game. About three hours later, when I hit Table 7, right by Table 1, the whole situation had reversed.

I was dealing $80-$160 Must Move Holdem. Perry was dealing Table 1. About half way through my down, a whole helluva lot of chips went into the pot on Table 1.

Sure…how do I know this? My game was four handed and there was nothing between the two games to obstruct the view. Several of my players kept jumping up to check out the action on Table 1 and coming back with a report.

George, the 10s, and Jason went to war. Just from the look of the chips in front of the players, I’d guess the pot was around $60,000. Jason won the pot but it took almost six minutes before the dealer could push it to him. George had to talk about the death of his hand and then bury it, two cards at a time.

I watched the flush spread on Perry’s face as George went into the usual burial routine. From all of my experiences with George, it probably went something like this: “What did I have? (pause) What could I have made? (spread the cards on the table) Do you see what I started with? (look pointedly at the dealer) What does he have? (stare at the dealer) What did I make? (fold two cards in half and throw them in but hold onto the other two for another two minutes while asking the same questions)…repeat…repeat…repeat.

Terry was playing in my game. She kept bouncing and down, looking at Table 1, returning to look at her hand, and exclaimed that she didn’t know much about Omaha but she couldn’t believe that guy took five minutes to turn in his hand and get the show on the road. I agreed.

My players either cashed out or moved to the Main game. I ended up with a semi bust out, hit the time clock and headed for fresh air and two days off. Sweet!

Those two days are almost over, back to the zoo soon. Wait a minute! Am I caged or free?

*****
I was part of this project. Sweet!
Howard Lederer’s ‘Secrets of No Limit Holdem’

No limit satellites were running in the ‘pit’ area and that’s where I started my night. It was havoc and ruin on the pocketbook…mine that is. There were so many breaks in the line-up in that section, I dealt/sat five satellites in five hours. The upside is that I got to visit with a few people I really enoy and normally never have time to kick back and just ‘talk’ with.

One of my satellite deadspreads found me with Mark, a long time player from the Mirage days and frequent visitor to Bellagio. He spent some time talking about the early Atlantic City Poker Days and Foxwoods when it opened. I’ve never been there but have heard about it from other people’s POV and it’s interesting to say the least. To play poker under those circumstances, you have to have the heart of a lion and patience of God. Anyone of you that played there in those days would know what I mean.

Another satellite deadspread found me with Ed, mentioned in other posts, from Seattle…now a Vegasite. Ed’s a lot of fun to visit with, sparky, young, energetic, and almost naively quizzical in his approach to life. He hasn’t played much in the last six months because he’s working on a book. Of course it’s about poker.

*****

One of the satellites I dealt was heads-up when I sat down. Mike and Justin. Justin is the original “Mr. Boooo-waaaa-haaaa-haaa” that used to laugh so loud in the $80-$160 games that the whole room could hear him…he’s in past Tango posts.

They were working on a deal when I tapped Nita out and the clock was stopped for that purpose. Justin was asking for a large amount of cash even though he had about one eighth of the chips that Mike had. Mike offered him $400…the buy-in to the satellite was $285. Justin was outraged over the amount feeling he should get a lot more.

Justin did a, “Fuck! Let’s just play,” when Mike wouldn’t budge. “I don’t need your fucking $400.”

A small crowd had gathered and David, (a young, noisy player over the last year), had been coaching Mike on the amount he should be willing to give Justin.

Justin, drinking a beer, wild eyed, and irritated, was the show. Justin looked around the crowd and exclaimed, “If I lose this, I’ll go kill myself!”

Mike was funny. He countered with something like this, “I’m Budda so I can’t play anymore. I can’t be responsible for your death.”

Everyone laughed…except Justin.

They played five or six hands and Justin went all-in and lost. After he stomped off, David and Mike were talking and laughing about the offer and why Mike should not have given Justin anymore than that amount.

An appropriate silence came in their laughter and I exclaimed, “Stop laughing. There’s a man on his way to commit suicide right now.”

The whole thing was pretty funny.

*****

I hit Table 1 along about midnight. It was half Pot Limit Omaha and half Pot Limit Omaha 8 or Better, $100-$200 Blind. George P. (the Greek) was in the 9s and the way he was announcing things to Nita (the dealer I was pushing), I could tell he wasn’t happy with her as a dealer or he’d been losing.

He was snapping orders at her to be sure and tell me what game I would dealing and how much the Time collection was…like it’s not on the Game Plaque and I can’t read. It didn’t have anything to do with me, it’s just his way of being rude and overbearing.

I managed to get through this without any bruises or scratches. There were several large pots and George won one of them, Chau won the other.

Chau is pretty funny at times and he’s always good to me…not necessarily in the tipping sense but in his behavior with me at the table. He had the table and me laughing…except for O’Neil…in one hand that he was heads-up with O’Neil. Chau was in the 1s, O’Neil in the 4s.

The game was Omaha 8 or Better and it was raised preflop to $800 by O’Neil. Chau called. I left the $800 in front of each player and put up the Flop. O’Neil checked, so did Chau.

The Turn came, O’Neil checked, so did Chau. O’Neil bet $1,500 on the River, Chau thought for a few seconds and called. O’Neil is a little hard of hearing but at times it’s overly exaggerated. O’Neil looked at me and asked, “What’d he do?”

I said, “Call.”

O’Neil repeated the query, even though he could see the chips in front Chau and knew Chau called the bet.

I said, “He called,” a lot louder this time.

Chau exclaimed, “I called!”

O’Neil asked again.

Chau stood up, leaned over the table with his hands cupped around his mouth like a microphone and yelled, “I called!”

O’Neil threw his hand away and I pushed the pot to Chau while everyone cracked up.

*****

I dealt one more game and escaped early to hit a ‘mandatory’ party at Tommy Rockers. Suzie…our group leader and instigator of the party, was a ‘no call, no show.’

*****
I was part of this project. Sweet!
Howard Lederer’s ‘Secrets of No Limit Holdem’

Long time no write! I had five days off, jam packed with action, stress, dismay, fun, strange sleep patterns, too much food, shop here and there and everywhere, and my beautiful granddaughter, Jasmine. She left early Wednesday. I tried to revert back to my normal sleep patterns and awoke to hit the Dentist’s office at 3:30 and then home to shower and get ready for work.

*****

There are 25 tables in the pit combined with the 30 in the room, we now have 55 tables to man. Doesn’t sound like much, right? I’m wondering how many new dealers there are to take up the overflow and how they will handle the games and players.

In general conversation, with a few of our regular dealers, I heard that the new dealers were being routed around the high limit and the regular dealers would be expected to deal the high limit. Umhhh! So they get the gravy and the easy games and we get the gristle and the stress? Sounds pretty damn unfair to me. It may or may not be true. Time will tell.

Satellites begin today for the Five Star World Poker Classic and there are over 125 entries for the $25,000 buy-in WPT Championship. Huge!

*****

I taped the WPT Aruba event last night on the Travel Channel because I was sure I’d be dealing it. Wrong! They showed the first season event. Disappointment.

*****

George the Greek is back in our room. If any of you watched the Aviation Club De France WPT, you saw George…pounding the table, yelling, “Crete forever!” and a few other things. I’ve dealt to him many times over the years and the experiences are joy filled, wonderful adventures…NOT. They are just the opposite. There are a lot of posts about George in the old pages that will eventually be moved to this ‘blog’ as time permits.

One thing that left me chuckling…Vince Van Patten misinterpretated a statement made by George. When Eric faced off with George, George waited forever to act on his hand. Eric said something like, “I’m falling asleep, George.”

George pounced on him with a, “You are too young to sleep, sleep when you are dead,” type of thing.

Vince jumped on that and interpreted it to mean that George told Eric to, “…sleep with the fishes.”

Funny…that’s how rumors get started.

*****

Five days off and I had to be retrained. I made a mistake in the 2nd game I dealt. It was $80-$160 half 7 Card Stud 8 or Better and half Omaha 8 or Better. Two players on the Turn and River and I completely misread the hands. Missed the high on one hand and thought they had the same low so I quickly chopped the chips in front of one player and slid them over to the player I thought had 3/4’s of the pot. Ugh!!! They didn’t chop off my hands or even yell at me but it took a few minutes to get it straightened out.

Then I made another one in the 4th game I dealt. Four way action to the flop, the 5s bet, everyone threw their hand away or so I thought. I dropped the deck like a hot rock and slid the pot to the 5s, just as the 9s called the bet. Silent Primal Scream here!

The Flop was gone, so was the 5s’s hand…so was my sanity. I called for a decision. Boba asked the players if they would split the pot, they agreed. Thank you, God, and the players too. He sternly told me to see him in the office later. He didn’t mean it but I know I don’t want to make mistakes and now I was ultra leery of every move I made. I was on edge through the rest of my night. Thankfully I kicked the cobwebs out of my head and got in to the focus mode.

*****

Late in the night I dealt a $20-$40 7 Card Stud game. The 4s claimed to be Phil Ivey’s brother…after being asked his name by Pete, another player. The 4s pulled out a Bicycle V.I.P. ID that apparently read Vince Ivey…that’s what I gathered from the conversation.

Pete told Vince that he really didn’t look like he could be related to Phil. Vince did a double talking, gear shifting, dialogue tango while prodding Pete about “Why not?”

Vince never stopped talking, he talked to anyone and everyone, even when they tried to totally ignore him. He went into a rant about how he played poker with his brother and his brother showed him no mercy and beat him to death in the game. He rambled about everyone’s play and his own cards and what he was doing there and how he was the fish.

I finally said, “Wow! You sure talk a lot more than Phil does.”

He stated there would be no more tips for the dealers and then asked, “Phil who?”

Finally he racked up and got ready to leave. He asked if I would miss him. I replied, “Sure.”

He called me a liar and told me he would have tipped me except he knew I was lying and the only people that would miss him were the players. He asked for change for a $5 chip and I gave him $1 chips. He tossed $1 to each of the players that were present and threw one to me.

I asked him if his dad had been in town a little over a month ago. He said, “No. My brother was here three days ago.”

I continued, “Your dad wasn’t here for a birthday celebration?”

He said, “No.”

He stood up, picked up his chips and leaned over to the 2s…Dimitri was sitting behind his friend while the friend played Dimitri’s chips. He demanded, “Only English next time…you get it?”

They ignored him. He tried again. The friend asked, “Are you OK?”

Vince finally left.

I had to chuckle. I dealt to Phil Ivey’s dad, maybe two months ago, when he was in town for a birthday celebration. I also saw Phil’s dad sitting behind him the night before.

Rave on Vince!!!!! If you’re really Phil’s brother…what happened?

*****
I was part of this project. Sweet!
Howard Lederer’s ‘Secrets of No Limit Holdem’