Great plans oft go astray. As if we didn’t already know that, it is witnessed almost hourly in a poker room. The plan is to take a seat, win, chuckle all the way to the cash out window, and take your newly acquired funds home with you. It seldom works that way. Generally it takes a lot of sheer determination, strength of will, and a mind that can release the turmoil created from looking at bad hands for hours as you struggle to win the big bucks from the limit you are playing in.

On that note, I watch tournament players come in at the beginning of a big tournament, filled with hope and determination, ready to play satellites, tournaments, and cash games – whatever it takes, to cover expenses and put some cash back in the BR. While TV has been a boon to poker, it also makes it looks so easy. You never witness the hours it takes for the one hand that someone wins and the other player goes broke in.

And to make matters worse, there’s always the Bubble! That’s about the size of it…you were right there, almost within reach of taking home prize money, and the bubble blew up in your face. You’re out of the tournament, one out of the money, and in general – out – out – out!

That old saying, ‘it’s not whether you win or lose, it’s how you play the game’ could never be more apropos. If you ‘play’ the game, not just sit through session after session but actually ‘play’ the game, and play your best game while you’re doing it, you will end up in the + column over a period of time – no matter how bad you’re running right now. You have to give every session your best effort. No whining! Just play the damn game.

Wow! I’m really glad I got that out of my head. For some reason, it just seemed to be hanging there, needing to be said or written. I’ve listened to so many tales of woe lately about bad beats and dreaded suck outs that I felt everyone needed a refresher course on the play of the game. And I also needed to say it, read it, and think it. I need a refresher course now and then.

Off on another note, Mark (from CO) and his friends, Jason and Gavin, were in about a week ago. I managed to clock out and meet them for a brew in the Sport’s Book in the early a.m. – when it was quiet and no one was around to interrupt our chip/card chatter. They listened to me – I listened to them as the tales unfolded of their $10-20 NLH play. At one point Jason stated that he was sure I heard enough poker stories and saw enough that I didn’t need to hear anymore. On one count, he was right. I do see and hear poker on a daily basis. But it was so much fun just kicking back with them that their side of the stories was the best part. They were animated, excited, and happy that they’d moved up from the $2-5 NLH and all of them appeared to have had a great time. Thanks for sharing guys. And Mark, keep up with the posting – great read.

And back to this weekend, it’s going to rain Bloggers on Las Vegas because Bloggers reign. I’m hustling to put phone numbers into my Treo, trying to make sure I can contact some of them anyway…it’s like a daisy chain. Somehow, someway, we can all find out what the next guy/gal or group is doing and where they are going to meet. It’s going to be a great time. I spent an hour chatting with Michael Craig on the phone – and not only is he going to speak at our ‘meet and greet’, he’s going to play in the tourney. My camera will be armed and aimed, at anyone and everyone. Yoo hoo. Fun is afoot.

Damn the wind! Not only was it windy as hell, it was cold. Within a few short hours, I’d be kicking open my garage door to let the world in – people would be browsing my little collection of life and picking through it, squabbling over prices, and me? I wasn’t really ready for any of it. I wanted my bed – snuggling under a down comforter, my room – quietly tucked away from the rest of the world, but instead I was dialing my son, Darian, to make sure he was up and would be over soon to help me fade through the melee of noise and confusion.

Darian arrived with his son, Riot, and my nephew, Chad. A few minutes later Gordon arrived (long time friend from MT that lives in Vegas, and he and his wife, Carole, were setting up some of their own ‘yard sale’). Darian, Chad, and Riot raced off to a casino to get small change for paying customers and Gordon and I settled in to have a cup of coffee and visit – one last break before it all started.

The sale was set to go at 9 a.m. and at 7:50 my doorbell rang. I looked at Gordon as I went to answer the door. A perky gent asked, “You haven’t cancelled your sale due to bad weather have you?”

“No. It starts at 9 a.m.”

“You don’t have any old casino items do you?”

“Nope, sure don’t.”

He left. I closed the door. To Gordon, “Guess he didn’t read the part of the ad that stated NO EARLY BIRDS.”

Like hell he didn’t. It irritated me. At 8:10, Gordon and me opened the garage, set out a tarp and began loading camping equipment, exercise gear, lawn furniture and more onto it. People started pulling up and stopping. I told two of them that we didn’t start until 9. One of them grumbled that the ad said 8. I said, “Sorry, it’s 9.”

Like hell the ad said 8. These people were on my nerves already and we weren’t even set up. My son arrived with nephew, baby, and change. By 8:30 there were so many people coming into the garage that I gave up. I whispered to my son that I didn’t think I could stand it. His reply, “Ok. Just go somewhere for the day, Mom.”

I handed him the money and milled around, mainly holding the baby, and trying to stay out of the way of the mad rush. Several times I took Riot into the house and just played with him. The wind was still unbearable and while the garage helped slow it down a bit, it was brutal. By 9:10, I felt like the sale had been going on for hours.

At one point I was asked to show a guy how to ride my Trikke…it was for sale. I’d guess he was around 35. After watching me, he declared that that was way too much exercise for what he wanted. Funny. Guess it was supposed to just levitate and spin by itself. Later in the afternoon, a guy about my age (and no, Ten Mile, not elderly), and in much worse shape than the first guy, wanted to know how the Trikke worked. I hit the street again, showing him the leg motion and handle chop to ride uphill. He was interested. I warned him that it took a lot of work to get to where he could do what I just did and that he could get hurt on it. Hell…that must have been the magic he was waiting to hear. He bought it.

About 1 p.m. everything slowed down. Viv had arrived, Carole showed up, Sly (Riot’s mama) came and picked up Riot. I prodded Darian to bring the chimenea from the back yard and put it in the driveway. I cranked up a fire, opened a beer, and parked my tush on a lawn chair while the wind whipped around and blew smoke up everyone’s nose. At that point I really could have cared less. A few people straggled in and several of them wanted to know if the chimenea was for sale. A few that had been by earlier in the morning came back but by 3 p.m. I was done. It was only getting colder. The wind refused to slow down.

Darian and Chad left. Gordon had to go somewhere. Viv, Carole, and me hid in the house with a hot pot of coffee. When a few more people came by, Viv went out to talk to them and eventually Carole went out to help her. I refused to move. I was comatose…cold and tired…and wished I’d just set everything in the street and given it away.

At 4 p.m. Zig came by for Viv, Gordon and Carole started loading up what they had left on the street, I shivered all the way through helping them and when they drove off, I locked my gate, shut myself in my bedroom and jumped on the Migun. Incredible. Then I was off to Sand Woman Land.

I woke up at 11 p.m. and had this hair brained idea that I wanted to drive up to Mt. Charleston, to the old lodge, and have a Bailey’s & Coffee. I cranked up the Silver Steed and hit the highway. I checked the outside temperature when I hit the lodge, 16 degrees. Kee-rist! And to make matters worse, the lodge was closed. It used to be open 24 hours a day and now, by 12:30 a.m. – they were shut down on a Saturday night. Sad. There are a bunch of cabins right by the lodge, rentals, and there was a car in front of every one of them. Go figure! No one drinks at night in the mountains anymore. Just us fish that live in the desert. I headed for home. BTW – it was 44 degrees at my house. S-h-i-v-e-r

Sunday I visited Camping World. There are items to be purchased for the Fifth Wheel, like a washer/dryer, generator, and a satellite for Internet connectivity. And I made an appointment to have the hitch installed in the truck. Lots of things still have to be done before the plan is complete.

On Sunday night I went to Bellagio to find my friend, Christoph. He was in town for a backgammon tournament and we had planned a hike but between his being in the tournament to the final day, and my crazy schedule, we couldn’t arrange a time. So we settled on dinner. He was playing in the $300-600 Mixed game when I arrived.

The room was a screamer. All the tables were open and running and people everywhere. I visited with Carmen while Christoph played the round. Christoph and me headed for Fix. We were starving and it was the easiest and fastest place to get into consider neither of us was ‘dressed’. The company was great, the food was wonderful but the damn music was so loud it was close to more annoying than the wind on Saturday. We had to yell all the way through the meal to catch up on each other’s lives. We finished our meal and headed back to the room. BTW he is one of the best friends anyone could ever hope to have. I love this man.

I escaped the noise of the poker room and headed for the parking garage and my Silver Steed. I was ready for my little, quite slice of heaven. So ended my weekend of the ‘dreaded garage sale’. Kee-rist! I hope to NEVER have another one.

When I’m right, I’m wrong. It just seems to go that way when certain people are around. Of course I have one specific one in mind right now…Jimmy Tran. He always seems to be at war with dealers. It’s a personal war for him. As soon as the dealer breathes, Jimmy’s on the alert and ready to jump down their throat if they double gasp. He isn’t necessarily mean but he can be rude as hell…maybe it’s just me – when I open my mouth – and he’s not that way with the other dealers. Sure…there are other posts about him.

The game is $25-50 NLH. One play-over in the 6s, a seat opens, Jimmy’s name is called and I’m told he’ll be my player. Another seat opens; the play-over is the next person on the list and he acknowledges he will take the seat. Instantly another seat opens. The play-over is moving from the 6 to the 5s and as Jimmy arrives and starts to put his chips down, I motion to the 3 and the 6s and say, “You have a choice.”

His face twists and he demands, “W-H-A-T?”

Without losing my composure, I said, “You have a choice of seats.”

Jimmy looks at me as he slams his chips into the 3s and sits down. Carl (I used to deal to him in Gulfport at the Grand) is in the 7s; he looks at me and shakes his head at Jimmy. Carl gets the picture. I smiled at Carl and said, “I deal with it everyday.”

A few hands later, the 5s left, Jimmy moved over. Jimmy was the SB of $25, Gabriel – 6s had a missed Blind Button – Carl the BB of $50. Two callers, Jimmy folded, Carl raised it to $400 total, I pulled Jimmy’s $50, Carl’s and the other two players $100 bets into the pot. Carl had raised with some $25 and $100 chips. I announced, “Raise, $300 more.”

Jimmy went ballistic. “Wait!” as he grabbed at the pot and started pushing the chips around before I could stop him, “He put too much!”

Carl dryly said, “She ain’t made a mistake since ’01.”

Jimmy did apologize stating that he thought Carl had $50 too much in the pot. That might be the only apology I ever get from him.

Carl lost the hand. Jimmy now had the Button. Gabriel returned and bought the Button. Carl looked at the free hand and decided to rack up. Gabriel was the Button, after Carl left, I announced, “No Small Blind this hand,” and turned to the 8s to let him know he was the BB. I dealt the hand, it finished, and Jimmy reached across Gabriel grabbing the Button and throwing it in front of the 8s. I moved it back, trying my best to keep an even voice, “It’s a dead Button.”

Gabriel jumped in and told Jimmy that Carl had left after his SB and it was a dead Button. Jimmy didn’t say anything; he just nodded. DAMN!!! He was wrong again.

That was the end of my Jimmy experience for the down, except for some glares and a few hand motions because I didn’t deal him anything. But it’s perpetual. He will never believe that I know how to do my job. Maybe he will never believe that any dealer knows how to do their job, so it’s not just a ‘Linda’ thing. I try not to let it get on my nerves…just keep dealing.

My next game was a rock and roll $80-160 H and then off to $150-300 Mixed, with Men Nyugen in the 2s…yup…Men “The Master”. Kee-rist! Of all the games I didn’t want to be noticed in – or do anything to create a disturbance – it was this game. Men can be particularly brutal to dealers…although he’s toned it down a lot over the years of being forced to ‘sit out’ at tournaments.

Not to worry, just like it was written in stone in a cave – that Linda has to make a mistake in this game – it happened. Deuce to 7 Triple Draw. The first two players draw four – Tony 8s (Tony’s Asian and just a little superstitious), and Men draw three. I announce the draws, and then for some lame brain reason (known only to the person who chiseled the stone in the cave) I gave four each to the first two players, two to Tony, and two to Men. As soon as I pushed the two to Men, Tony started barking that he needed three.

Men’s barking was louder than Tony’s. He informed me that he needed three and that I should leave all the cards in front of the players before I begin to give the draw cards. The worst of it is that I normally do, but the way they all pushed their cards in, it was a shamble. He was even exaggeratedly calling me, “Honey!”

I agreed with him – I definitely should have left the cards out in front of the players. That slowed him down. I told him I was sorry and I would call for a decision. He was grandstanding and talked it up for another minute or so and then decided he knew which card was his last card and I would give it back to Tony and then give him three. That is if everyone agreed. Everyone said, “Ok.”

David Levi was in the 3s (Damn I love this guy). He suggested they just chop it up. They went for it. There was one odd $25.00 chip. David grabbed it and said he would give it to the low card of the three, when the game changed to stud. Men wanted it chopped.

David said, “Ok, $8 for each of you and the odd $1 for the dealer.”

Men went for it. David threw me the chip; I chopped it up, and got the odd $1. Holy hell…what is going on here? No heat and a tip on a pot I screwed up!

Don’t think I wasn’t thanking my lucky stars to escape this baby without any scrapes or bruises. When I got pushed, I leaned over, touched Men on the arm, and when he looked up, I thanked him for helping me with that pot. He said, “…I’m a lover, not a fighter, Baby.”

I was off and running to $10-20 NLH. Before I knew it, it was close to 1 a.m. and Jason asked if I wanted to escape. I did. The dreaded garage sale was on the horizon. Dreaded? Hell yes! A lot of work, a lot of stress, and a lot of memories out on the tables with a minute price tag on them and life is shifting into the next chapter.

Thank God for Vivienne. If she and my nephew, Chad, hadn’t helped me pack, swish dust, load up, inventory, and all that other stuff, I think I would have just set it in the street and let everyone take what they wanted.

Check this beauty out:

It makes me shiver…that’s what fairy tale heavens and ethereal dragons are supposed to look like – according to me anyway. It’s the Eagle Nebula M16 taken by the Hubble Space Telescope. Every now and then I go off the deep end – a child of Earth staring at space through the aid of the Internet and the Hubble – and I spend too much time going to ‘next’ – ‘next’ – ‘next’ because each picture is completely better than awesome.

Return to Earth.

There’s always poker afoot. The Blogger’s Tourney is rapidly approaching, all kinds of bloggers writing about it, and why not – it is going to be fun. Hopefully everyone will have a great trip report when they head for home…with pictures.

On the work scene, Moi has missed the last two nights of work. Sick call in, no not mentally ill (well maybe just a teensy bit on the strange side), but the dust mites and pollen grunts invaded my head. Maybe they’re boring for oil or looking for gold. I have that damn vertigo (Ménière’s disease) thing going on, when I lay down and turn over, or even lean my head back to the left, the black vortex has me…and it even spins. It’s allergy related, fluid in the inner ear. It’ll go away soon. I hope. It will…won’t it? *nervous laugh* No…really, it will. It comes and goes about three or four times a year and Dramamine helps believe it or not.

What I have missed by not going to work is – of course the damn money – the beginning of Bellagio’s Five Diamond World Poker Classic. I’m sure it will be rocking and rolling when I hit the room tomorrow. I’m prepared to deal my little fingers off and work my full shift. Except for Friday, I have to E/O, if at all possible. Big Garage sale is kicking off on Saturday and for some reason, people like to come during the day (when I would normally be asleep). I’ll be up all day drinking coffee and Red Bull, ready to haggle and dicker as I wish they would all go home so I can s-l-e-e-p.

Monday night, my first game was $40-80 Mixed. Adam was playing and started a conversation with me about my blog post; a friend of his had sent him the link. Of course I missed a raise in the action, not missed it in as burned and turned, but had to be stopped so I didn’t burn and turn too soon. The 4s, an Asian female, basically told me to shut up and deal – not exactly in those words. I did. She was right anyway.

Later in the night, I was waiting to push a game right next to the game Adam was still playing in. We went back to the conversation. He had asked me if anyone else in the room read it. I don’t know. He seemed a little in awe of the fact that I would just write about Tony like I did, since it was sort of public. I explained that it was my diary, and that’s what I did. I write about people and happenings in the room and in my life. I told him management knew that I wrote the blog and he seemed even more in awe of that. I laughingly told him that if I’d known he was going to read it, I wouldn’t have been so complimentary to him. Ok, Chris, you can rat me out and tell Adam I wrote about him again. *laughing*

The reason I brought up that particular conversation with Adam is because I can’t help but wonder why people think they should be secluded or hidden from the public just because they play poker. And I mean people in general, not just Adam. TV has everything going on with poker, they even show players standing up and cursing when they take a beat, so why shouldn’t players be written about? I always thought it was amazing that when Andy Beal was playing the biggest limit game in the world at Bellagio, and everyone playing in the room, during that two year interval, knew about it, went home and wrote all their friends about it, posted about it on the Internet on RGP, and all other chat groups in the world, that it was supposed to mysteriously disappear from everyone’s mind – like it never happened. History in the making and no one – especially me – was supposed to write about it (that’s another story for another time).

With all the media jumping on the poker platform, there is absolutely no way a poker player is going to escape the public eye. Check out the daily news…they never leave any stone unturned and poker ain’t gonna be no different, Kids. If you, as a player, can’t stand it, start a private game and stay out of the casinos. And as I’ve said before, if you misbehave and act like an idiot, why shouldn’t you be written about? And if you act like a real person, Adam, you get written about too. J

*****

I called my brother, Kenny, in N. Idaho, the place we have our family reunion at each August – six inches of snow yesterday and six more expected tonight.

Then I got this email from my sis, Vickie, Missoula MT:

*Begin email*

It snowed about 9 inches of light fluffy snow last night, wanted to puke when I got up. But anywhere it was plowed or shoveled it melted off.
Love you

*End email*

Kee-rist! Why don’t these people move?

Ron is doing my post for the day:

*start email*

—– Original Message —–
From: Ron Robinson
To: geenen@pokerworks.com
Sent: Wednesday, November 30, 2005 4:46 AM
Subject: Ron from Texas says ‘Linda can’t leave…oh well, get to Texas then….’

Linda,

As usual been following your posts religiously. The moment I saw the first truck picture some time ago, I immediately knew what you were going to do.

….Go on the Pro circuit for a Monster Truck rally…..

My second guess (more realistic, I guess) was that you would be hitting the road to become ‘America’s Poker Dealer Extraordinaire’. You would basically show up in local towns, explain who you were, deal the biggest games, get the biggest tokes, slap people down with acerbic wit and before they could respond, be a ghost in the night….

…I mean as ghostly as one can get with a Monster Truck and huge trailer…

Of course, I find out at work yesterday and (YIPPEE!) I get to go to a conference in Vegas again in March. Yet, it looks by your imminent garage sale that I won’t be seeing you. (BIG BIG BOOOO!!! I mean, I am REALLY sad about that).

I was psyched because I would be there mainly in the middle of the week when you worked and I just wanted to sit by you, play some $4-$8 and just laugh through the night (of course, there is the obligatory monster raise with the Hammer on a blind steal).

I think we have met only two or three times months apart and exchanged e-mails a few times. Yet, for a person from Dallas who was literally a total stranger to you, you have made me feel like a good friend.

To the people who read Linda’s blog, let me give you an example of the type of person she is. We met while she was at the Bellagio; I felt we had good chemistry and exchanged e-mails after I left. The next time I was going to Vegas, I had always read she liked wine and asked if it was OK to bring her a bottle. She said yes.

Upon my visit, I see her in the poker room in conversation. I have the wine in a bag (no…not a brown paper one) and walk up to her.

Now, take it from my perspective: we just a met over a few days on my last visit months before. She hasn’t seen me in months. Although I look cool and calm from the outside (I’m 6′ 4″), I felt a little nervous because this lady sees a million faces and five million hands of poker. As I approached her to re-introduce me, she stopped her conversation, walked to me, say ‘Hi’ with surprise and delight and gave me the biggest hug…

At that moment, she melted my crusty ol’ Texas heart.

At that moment, based on a nod of her head, I would slap Sam G., try to bluff Sam F. with the Hammer and basically do anything she wanted within the law (but, hey, we are in Vegas… the law is a little loose).

At this moment, I am sad but happy for Linda; how many people get to do what they want to do with their lives? Think about it. Very few of us.

If Linda wants to hit the road and have her freedom from jerks playing $10-20, then I say “Jerks be damned!”

Dallas does not have legal poker but about an hour’s drive north at the Texas/Oklahoma border, they have Winstar casino which is expanding their poker room. And of course, Shreveport is about 3 hours a way.

Linda, if you walk in either place and with enough notice, I will be standing there with a bottle of wine, a smile on my face and a Texas hug to welcome you on my part of the long road that you may travel.

I ==really== hope I get to see you again either if you are passing through Vegas in early March or through Texas in the months ahead.

OK… get to your garage sale. Don’t let them dimwits try to nickel and dime you on selling your toaster.

If you want $2 for the toaster and the price tag says $2, well, damn it, give me my $2 bucks!!

Two bucks is all you need to pay the first toll fare so you can get to the rest of your life…

Take care,
Ron Robinson

*end email*

See why all you should make sure to introduce yourselves and visit with me when you come into the room! And Ron, I’m not planning on leaving until the end of April… 🙂

It’s early a.m., the wind stopped but the damn temperature is in the low 40’s and today is garbage day. That means Linda will be shivering her tush off as she takes out all the crap that should have been thrown away years ago, but is definitely going now because it’s time to downsize. S-H-I-V-E-R…ugh! Where’s the perfect climate? Or is there even such a thing? I know we need a ‘perfect climate sphere’ with 24-hour poker…that’s going on my Christmas wish list.

*****

Well, blogger tournament buddies, I spoke with Mike Matusow, in person, tonight at Bellagio. He did get my email asking if he could make it to our pre-tourney gathering. He said he’s going to be sequestered for a ‘reality TV show’ for about two weeks. That may be a slight exaggeration but he wasn’t sure if he would be out and about for anything. Now how in the hell can this guy miss all the Five Diamond events that start tomorrow at Bellagio? BTW, the final event of that is a $15,000 + 300 buy-in. Well…back to the blogger’s tourney – bet we have more fun than any other tournaments around the world. Can’t wait to hang out with everyone and laugh and giggle…just 12 more days.

*****

Jack it up – crank it down! One of the $30-60 H games I went through found everyone agreeing to put the ‘live $60’ on it for two full rounds of the table. Kee-rist! Talk about chip wars. And what exactly does that mean – ‘live $60’? The player UTG made it $60 to go before the cards were dealt, giving them last option to raise, and most of the time, they did. The game was huge. One guy signed up to play $80-160, he was moving up in limit trying to get even for the chip throwing frenzy that was going on in this game. Scary! Move up to catch up.

I thought I’d fall off my chair when this happened: $2-5 NLH. The 9s looked like any bigger than average guy off the street, plain clothes, drinking and a little slow with his speech and actions but he wasn’t slow with putting chips in the pot. He raised it anywhere from $60 to $80 pre-flop, and after the Flop, he would bet/raise $100 or a little higher, almost every hand. No one had a hand to contest the 9s with and he stacked chip after chip. The 1s even whispered in my ear that she was sure the 9s had nothing most of the time but she didn’t have anything to slow him down with.

The 9s went to the bathroom (yes, I know it was the bathroom because he asked where it was), and put a napkin over the top of his chips when he left. Umnhhh! When he returned the gamble, gamble, gamble continued. Finally he and the 3s ended up heads-up.

The 3s checked the Flop – a small bet, like $40 or $50, by the 9s brought a call from the 3s. The Turn paired the board with 8’s. The 3s checked, the 9s bet $105, and the 3s raised to $315.

The 9s called and accidentally hit his own chips, knocking some of them into his lap and onto the floor. He bent down to pick up chips and the 10s helped him. While he was picking up chips, that damn napkin ended up falling over his cards. I reached over and grabbed the napkin, tossing it onto the floor as the 3s declared that he was going all-in before the River card came.

The 3s pushed out the remainder of his chips, approximately $200, and I burned and turned off the River. The 9s sat up, looked around, looked at his hand, and asked, “What just happened there?”

I said, “He went all-in before the last card came.”

“No, I mean what just happened there? Those aren’t my cards.”

For some reason, without even thinking about it, I said, “Unless they fell out of your sleeve, they are.”

Several people at the table tittered, “What does he mean those aren’t his cards.”

The 9s was still trying to look bewildered.

I said, “Those are definitely his cards.”

The 9s finally threw his hand away and I pushed the pot to the 3s. I believe the 9s rarely even looked at his hand throughout his time of play. He just raised/bet when it came to him and he finally got caught with a check-raise. He may have discovered a draw that would bring him in for $205 more but on the River, he was finished and just didn’t want anyone to know. Or he completely misread his hand and was playing a previous hand on this hand. It happens to all of us at some time or another…we think we have one hand and look back and the cards have changed.

Well…hell. Time to freeze, shake, shiver my tush off with the garbage expedition. If I’m not back by tomorrow, send backup, with flamethrowers to thaw me out.

Wow! The wind is trying to blow us off the face of the Earth…at least us kids in Vegas. I’m crawling. Between the dust I’m stirring up by cleaning out, sorting, getting rid of, and preparing for a garage sale – and the wind kicking up all the dust in the valley – my lungs and sinus passages are begging for a body bag that has a filtration system in it to protect me from my environment. Help, Mrs. Wizard, can’t you cast a ‘no dust around Linda’ spell? I struggle on. Cleaning out the file cabinets, moving that acre of dust out of a closet that’s been unopened for months, shifting through papers and mess that comprise a lot of my life…because I’m a saver. My nephew, Chad, probably said it best, “Wow! This is an unusual rummage sale. For all the ‘user manuals’ and remotes to be with all the VCRs and everything is incredible.”

Umnnhhh! Maybe it is a little much but that’s a Linda thing. When I move into the new dwelling, there won’t be any room for any muss or fuss and everything will have a place. I can clean it in about an hour. No room on the walls to hang anything, no secret drawers or closets to stuff full of papers and mess, all in all that’s a very good thing.

But coupled with the wind that’s shooting half of the valley into the breathable air, it’s colder than a well digger’s ass. I’m freezing my tush off.

So let’s do poker.

On the up and coming Blogger Tournament at the IP on the 10th of December: I have Daniel Negreanu’s assistant, Travis’s phone number, and plan on calling him tomorrow to find out what kind of goodies Daniel would like to donate to the blogger tourney. I also received an email from Ron Rose, he will be in Vegas along about Monday and he is up for meeting the Bloggers for a bit before the tourney begins. Michael Craig, “The Banker, The Lawyer, and The Suicide King” will be a guest speaker at our shindig. I sent an email to Mike Matusow and asked him to come too…remember that I really like Mike. Haven’t heard back from him yet.

I worked the full week, with the exception of a few E/O’s. I didn’t race through the door every night, ready to go home, I went thinking I would work. The room was busy as hell. I did get out of the line-up somewhere around 10ish on Thanksgiving night, and on Friday I escaped around midnight. I played on Friday until the escape hatch opened. It was brutal. I didn’t lose a lot but I was never a contender for a pot. Fold was my number one wrist action. I have ‘carpal fold’ in both wrists. A few of the dealers drove me insane…one kept digging into his pocket and pulling out the $1 tokes and trading them for a $5 chip out of the rack. Ughhh! Manny was coming through my table and I took a walk. I was outside the poker room by the Sport’s bar when someone yelled, “Linda.”

I turned around to find a tall youngster, leaning over the rail from the poker room, asking me if I remembered him. To which I bluntly replied, “No.”

He went on, “Henry, from Card’s Speak.”

Then the bell rang and everything fell together. We got to visit off and on as I walked on a few dealers. Henry was playing $30-60. He’ll be at the Blogger Tourney on the 10th.

Sure…I’m a dealer…and the question could be boiling out of your thoughts about my ‘walking on a dealer’. Here’s why: some of them deal the game so shitty, and do all the stupid, disgusting things that are not part of their job, and they get on my nerves. I never walk because of a beat or a string of bad hands. I walk because a dealer doesn’t do their job and I get irritated if I sit and watch them screw up my profession.

So let me get into me dealing this last week. This is so stupid that it’s hysterically funny. I hit a $2-5 NLH game. The 7s plays intermittently, fairly young, tall, well built, and extremely sure of himself in his poker related statements. One would almost think he wrote the poker bible, if there was such a book. I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve had to choke down some rude responses, from time to time, when he takes off on an opinionated statement about poker. He’s not a bad guy, just knows everything and wants to make sure the general population knows that he knows everything. So…he’s in the 7s, wearing headphones that almost dwarf even his head (considering he’s bigger than the average person).

The 10s was in the process of losing a buy-in when I tapped out the other dealer. He barely speaks any English. I make sure I stop to see what he really wants to do when it’s turn to act, because there’s some hand waving and motioning going on that I wouldn’t want to misconstrue for a fold, bet, or all-in. He’s peppy and upbeat. We are managing quite well, even though I don’t know a word of his language.

After the Flop, the 7s and 10s end up heads-up. The Flop brought J-little-little. The 10s bet something like $40. The 7s, never removing his headphones, said, “All-in,” and gestured at his chips.

I turned to the 10s and asked him what he wanted to do. He gestured, in a long waving motion towards the table and said something – but hell if I could figure out what he said. I pointedly said, “He is going all-in. Is that what you want to do?” as I nodded at the 7s.

The 10s made the same long waving motion towards the table and said something that resembled ‘all-in’. I made it a point to ask again, if he wanted to put all of his chips in the pot. He said, “Yes.”

This process between the 10s and me took almost a full minute. As soon as I was positive that the 10s wanted to push all-in, I looked at the 7s and said, “Turn them up.”

The 7s said, “Have him turn his hand up.”

I said, “You are the first person to turn up your hand.”

The 7s persisted, “Tell him to turn his hand up.”

I couldn’t believe I was getting this from the guy that acts like he wrote the Poker Bible. I said, “You are first. Turn up your hand.”

By now three or four other players had jumped on the bandwagon, demanding that the 7s turn up his hand.

The 7s looked at me like I’d just torn a few pages out of his Bible. “I want to make sure that he’s going all-in. Have him turn his hand up.”

I may have been a little snotty by now, “You are first to turn over your hand. Turn it up.”

“I want to make sure he’s going all-in.”

I went off on him, “I just spent the last minute making sure of what he wanted to do. And you should give me a little more credit than that. Turn up your hand.”

The 7s finally turned it up, showing J-10, and the 10s turned up J-9. The 7s won the hand. The 10s dug for another buy-in.

As the 7s stacked chips, he said something pertaining to the fact that he didn’t think the 10s had a Jack even, and he didn’t want to show his hand unless he knew the 10s was going to put all of his chips in the pot.

Me, “If you took off the headphones, you’d know what he was doing. I made sure of it. And no matter what happens, when I’m dealing, you are always going to show your hand first in that circumstance.”

Kee-rist! Take off the headphones and join the damn game.

The 10s immediately lost his next buy-in. By now, even though it’s not in my job description, I was feeling a little tug of ‘ouch’ for him. I asked him if he played poker. He said it was his first time. I asked if he would rather play in a $4-8 limit game to start with. He didn’t understand a word I said. I asked what language he spoke. Vietnamese.

I then asked Leslie (brush) to call Thang to my table. Thang was working the daily tournament. Thang arrived. I explained what I had tried to ask the 10s and asked Thang if he would explain to the 10s. He did.

The report was kind of funny. “He says you are saving him money, Linda. He usually plays baccarat and he’s saving money by playing poker. His sister plays poker and he’s learning.”

Thang was chuckling, so was the 10s, so…shut up and deal, Linda. I did. Thang left. The 10s lost his next buy-in when he flopped Aces up and the Turn got him. He left for the night. I got pushed.

*****

A couple of great emails from readers that read my ‘going full time RVing’ post:

*Begin emails*

Linda,

Happy thanksgiving and congrats. Just read your latest blog about your new future plans. Congrats on a semi-retirement well earned. I promise to introduce myself in person before you hang them up. I feel bad for saying that I am a bit sad about this. Reading your blog has been the first thing I do at work in the morning for the past 2 years. In fact, the days where you dont post my day starts a little slower.

Hopefully, i will see you in a couple of weeks. I will be in town 7-9th of December and will definitely stop by. Since the tourney will be in town, I will likely be playing mostly at Wynn since bellagio has a horrible ante structure for its middle limit mixed games, but i definitely plan on coming by to say hi.

But I digress, the mobile home looks awesome and I wanted you to know I wish you all the best. Happy travels,

Mark

****Linda’s note to Mark – But Mark, I’m not going to stop posting, hopefully I’ll be able to do a better job it of it, due to more time****

_____

Hi Linda,
I just read your post about your grand plans. Sounds wonderful. Let me
know if you ever need the scoop on the Seattle, WA card scene. I look
forward to Poker Works from the road.

Good luck with the plans.

-Tyler M.

*End emails*

Sweet. It’s so great to hear from people that are going with me – you bet they’re going with me. I’m the eyes and ears and the mobility factor and they are going through me. Doubly Sweet!