I recently completed a second book that I was asked to review – which means I also completed another book earlier and wanted to write a review and I’m just now getting around to ‘catching up’. While I seem to never find the time to just sit down and bury my face in a book, I do the second best thing, read as time permits and seriously make myself commit a few minutes a day until I’ve completed it. The following are my thoughts on the books:

The Professor, The Banker, and The Suicide King written by Michael Craig is the must read of all books that have surfaced on poker and the big limit games. This book manages to give an in depth view of the personality and lives of the people that play high limit on a regular basis and pooled their finances and pitted their skills against Andy Beal, a banker from Texas. While I deal to these people regularly, and have dealt to Andy, the book brings much more to the picture than one would see in a poker room.

Michael has done something that would seem almost impossible in the poker environment, especially in the high stakes games. Each player, in the game and behind the scenes, has been explored and discovered in this book. It is well written and filled with factual happenings and events. All the threads of the tapestry come together to reveal what everyone wanted to know about the biggest limit game ever played in poker history to date. Buy this book today! You won’t regret it.

Michael is also a member of The Forum.

*****

One Of A Kind by Nolan Dalla and Peter Alson. This book opens the hidden corridors that Stu carried with him all the time – he had an incredible talent but couldn’t get past himself long enough to completely utilize the gift. The picture of Stu’s life, portrayed by this book, allows the reader to follow events and circumstances that would otherwise be lost. And, according to the book, there is nothing left of his personal life (pictures, notes, jewelry, mementos) except memories of those that loved him.

Even though I dealt to Stu, more than once, and can honestly say I never had a good experience with him at the table, I can’t help but wonder where he would be now if he could have maintained a solid focus on his skills and the future.

The book is a great read. I would recommend it for everyone. I would doubly recommend it for someone that wants to play poker professionally – for a living. The innuendos are countless on the pitfalls of not being able to manage yourself, your money, and your life. Read and heed!

I’ve played one night a week for the last month or so, usually my Friday and I’m looking for an E/O when I sign the list. I stopped playing $4-8 and moved up to $15-30. It’s funny in a way, years ago when I really had no idea how to play, I played $15-30, $5-10-20 on the end, $10-20-40 on the end, and a few other crazy limits – including NL. Once I learned to play, I settled into the low limit niche. I wasn’t ready to move to $15-30 until recently. It’s a much better game for me and I find the dealers don’t screw off as much in higher limits as they do in the lower limits. Truthfully I find a lot of dealers to be totally irritating. They can’t just deal the game, they have to get involved in it…and in low limit it’s a field day for those dealers.

I watched one dealer in a $4-8 H game look at player’s cards when the player folded (not just once but numerous times) and then put the Turn card face down with lots of action in the hand…he thought it was really funny. He never shut up during his half hour down, talking and chortling, jumping in with comments on the play of the hand. He’s fast but he helicopters the cards and puts a spin on them a pizza maker would envy as they loft through the air at the player’s chips. I talked to him about it later. He was pissed at me and told me that’s how he makes his money and that he doesn’t do it in high limit games. I asked him if he thought low limit players didn’t deserve to have a game ran as professionaly as a high limit player. It didn’t go over well at all. In truth, I told him he could be a great dealer if he just quit fucking around when he was in the box. Well slap my mouth! Guess I expect too much from my co-workers.

Then we have two dealers that can’t just drop the deck when the hand is over. They shoot the stub, in an accordian move, from one hand to the other. Guess they missed their calling and think they are a magician instead of a dealer. A stupid question on my part, but what if they have to recover the deck…like they may not have completed the board? Should look great on camera. And one of them always pushes the pot, leaving three or four odds chips out, which he stacks beside the pot followed by, “Thank you!” Yup…he’s soliciting a tip.

Another $4-8 H game that just started with me in the 9s. The dealer sold all of the chips from the bank brought by the floor and took all the cash and receipt from the Cashier’s Cage and stuck it into the rack. We aren’t even supposed to begin dealing until the Table Bank is picked up. A few minutes later I told him that he needed to call someone to pick it up. He laughed.

I pushed it then, “You can get written up for it.”

He chuckled again and said he’d just give everyone back their money…like his ears were painted on and he couldn’t hear or understand what I said. Not only could he get written up for not calling for a pick-up, his bank was now way over and that’s another huge NO!

Then in a $15-30 H game, when I won a pot, the dealer pushed it to me – holding onto it for a moment as he looked at me and said, “You’re a winner!”

Good God! I need him to tell me? I retorted, “I’m a winner whether I win a pot or not!”

More dealer tales –

I pushed a dealer out of a $20-40 7 stud game one night and he informed me the rack was down $24 and the supervisor knew about it. There was $20 in blue chips in the rack. Normally the bank carries around 140 or more as they are used in rake, antes, and general change for players. When he stood up, I asked, “You don’t believe in getting a fill?”

He said, “No.”

As I slid into the Box, I retorted, “Good. I’ll remember that when you are following me.”

The players told me that he’d dropped their antes when he sat down. Sorry…but I’m laughing my ass off over that one. I’m not sure how he could figure $3 from each player was Time.

When I pushed him out of the next game, he apologized for not getting a fill. He said he was new at Bellagio. No shit? And that he hadn’t dealt Stud in over eight months – like where ever he moved from didn’t spread Stud anymore.

Which brings up another issue – new dealers. Bobby B. has been playing in – you guessed it – Bobby’s Room. None of the new dealers are allowed to deal through there so the experienced dealers are being shuffled into a line-up that routes us through that room. And of course if we deal through there, we are going to deal all of the higher limit games – that’s the line-up. Ouch! It looks like the good old days where everyone had to be able to deal all games to work at Bellagio are over. Dealing all high limit makes Linda a ‘Sad Jill’.

*****

Pauly was in covering the Bellagio Challenge Cup and we had the opportunity to visit briefly while I waited for a seat in a $15-30 game. Yup, I signed up to play on MY Tuesday. We may even manage a brew, a meal, or a visit…or all three…while he’s in town.

A pleasure to see and chat with for a moment, Joseph Smith, does such great coverage of poker tournaments in Vegas and he’s in the room for the Bellagio Challenge Cup also.

I swear, if I didn’t have to work for a living, I’d be doing a lot of this type of thing myself…damn work! What a catch 22.

I spend a lot of my life just trying to survive time. Or I should say the lack of time. One of my co-workers asked me what I did on my days off, followed by, “Shop?”

Holy Andy Mackerel. Not this kid. No time for it. I won’t even bore myself with how I rush through life, trying to catch up with everything I feel I need to accomplish before I become a pile of ashes. I do take the time to STOP – and BREATHE – and TASTE my life and the events that keep adding history in my thoughts.

This little bundle is one giant bunch of wunnerfulness in my life. Riot comes to visit me almost every weekend and I get to fall back into the mindset of a child, where nothing is important in an adult world…including time.

So…after baby hugs and kisses and waking up to hit the real world of poker on Monday, I was pleasantly surprised to see the room had seven or eight empty tables. I’m sure that’s not how management feels about it but after our tournament in April and the overly long WSOP, it’s nice to be able to walk into the room and find some peace to the pleasant clatter of chips and chatter.

The Bellagio Challenge Cup was in progress when I clocked in. A $10,000 + $200 NLH Tournament with 97 entries was just winding down for the night. It stopped at 9 p.m. with 41 players left.

I dealt Table 7 – one of the tournament tables. T. J. was in the 7s and once when I was preparing to deal, collecting antes, etc., I said, “It’s your big blind.”

He looked at me, “I’ll take that from a new dealer but not from a seasoned pro like you.”

He wasn’t being mean, he said it with a half smile, and went on to talk about how the new dealers point at the player and keep jabbing the table in front of the player…as if the player never knows when it’s up to them. I agree. I hate it when I’m playing and a dealer pounds out the Flop and says, “Linda!” Chit Mon! Like I was out in the North 40 and didn’t know I had to watch out for cow pies.

Jeff S. was in the 5s and once when he folded, he turned his hand sideways, with a lofting flip, that exposed his cards to all of the players on the right side of the table. Granted, no one on that side was in the hand but there were players in the action on the left hand side of the table. I turned his cards up and said, “These are exposed and out of play.”

He asked me why I showed them. I told him the players to his right could all see his cards. He said they didn’t have cards. I queried, “What if one of them is in cahoots with someone that has cards?”

He said, “I don’t think you should show them.”

I ended it with, “Then don’t expose them.”

*****

I hit a $8-16 H game late in the night in which everyone was having a good time except the 2s. He looked at his cards, did the stall, holding them too long, twisting his face into a grimace or rolling his eyes in disbelief that these cards were being dealt to him. Each time the action came to him, it was the same routine. B-O-R-I-N-G! Not to mention slowing the game down.

About 20 minutes into my down, when he did it for the umpteenth time, and hesitated before discarding like he wanted to throw his cards, I said, “There are a lot more bad cards in the deck than there are good ones.”

I simply said it as a reality check for him to figure out that other people were getting those hands too and he wasn’t singled out by the Card Fairy to die alone in Bad Card Hell.

He glared at me, “I don’t need to hear it from you.”

He went on, “Now you’re laughing.”

No I wasn’t. But there may have been a teensy smile on my face…not uncommon when I’m dealing. I said, “But I’m definitely not laughing at you and the comment was in general, not aimed at you.”

He retorted, “You’d better quit while you’re ahead!” as he slipped backwards into Bad Card Hell.

I replied, “You got it!”

Poor guy. He doesn’t know that I have outs. I get baby hugs and kisses!

It’s a few minutes before 3 p.m. and I’m waiting to play in the Charlie Tuttle Tournament on PokerStars. There are 137 people registered for this event at this moment. Woops! A few minutes before it begins and more people have registered. It would be fun to know how many of them are bloggers but I’m not sure there’s a way to even find out. The tournament started with a 144 entrants. Dr. Pauly is at my table and everyone (even observers) are chatting him. Yes…he did a great job at the WSOP! A few minutes into the tournament – Pauly is busted out 10-10 against K-K held by BiffPokeroba. Me? I’m just coasting along – pitch, pitch, pitch. Nothing notable.

So…while I’m pitching, a bit of poker in my world. I hit a $400-800 Mixed Game. It really was almost not a game when I got there. Jimmy G. – 1s, Don – 2s, David S. – 3s, open – 4s, Tommy had a few chips in the 5s but wasn’t sitting, 6s – walking, 7s – standing up, 8s – racking up.

I announced, “Time Pot,” and took the chips from the 6s for Time. The 7s said he was going to get money and would be back. Tommy kept walking around, coming back to the table, glaring at everyone, and finally picked up his few chips and left. That left Jimmy, Don, and David. I asked if they wanted to play, the answer was “NO” they would wait for more players. I pitched the Time I’d taken back to the 6s and prepared to wait. David took a walk. A few minutes later, the 8s was filled by Chris.

Jimmy asked Chris if he wanted to play Chinese while they waited. The answer was ‘yes’. Jimmy asked me if I would deal it for them. The answer was ‘yes’. Jimmy always likes to play Chinese when a game is falling apart and it does help to keep players at the table. Right now I had three seats open, the room was screaming and it was difficult to get a seat filled, three walkers, and basically NO GAME. Don wanted to know if they wanted to play 7 card stud. “NO!” So I dealt Chinese.

**It’s first break time in the Charlie Tuttle Tournament – 87 players left on 10 tables. Average stack 2482 – I’m at 3040. Blinds are $75-150 when we resume. Not to worry, I could be gone in a heartbeat…if I just pick up the right hand to get me there. :-)**

A few minutes later, about the second hand of Chinese, David came back to the game. As I was dealing the next hand, he asked me if I was going to take Time when the game resumed. I told him no – I hadn’t planned on it. He seemed to be deliberating something but what the hell it was I couldn’t figure…until later. He changed the question slightly and asked me again if I was going to take Time when the game resumed. I pointedly stated, “David, if you want me to call a Floor Person and see if I should take time, I will. Otherwise, no, I’m not going to take Time.”

Then he said something about dealer’s making their own decisions. I just didn’t get it. I had no game. In these circumstances, the players would have a cow if a dealer tried to take Time and the House would never demand Time be paid unless the game was in progress. He asked me if I would have dealt 7 Card stud if they wanted to play it. I asked him if it was in the list of games being played. He said no. I said if I were going to deal it for them, I would call the Floor Person first. That still didn’t make him happy but he dropped it. My reasoning here is that Chinese is a ‘filler’. If it’s not on the list of games, and there is basically no game, the dealer can deal it without question in high limit. Seven card stud is a regular game and if I were going to deal it, and it’s not on the list, then I am going to have to get permission and take Time.

A few minutes later, I got two new players, the 7s returned, I had started to deal the next hand of Chinese but I just dropped the deck and the game resumed.

When I got pushed, I walked around behind David, tapped his shoulder (he was reading) and asked him if he thought I should have taken Time. What the gist of that conversation came down to was that he didn’t think I should have dealt Chinese, although it wasn’t worded quite like that, because if they (Chinese players) were in a hand and the other players returned, there was a waiting period for ‘them’ to set their hands and play out the hand, and if they (the regular players) paid Time, it was unfair for them to have to wait for the Chinese to finish.

The whole thing was out of context for what happened in the game. They did not pay Time. It was a free half hour. There was no game. If Jimmy, or any other player asks me to deal Chinese when I’m in the box and the game is technically ‘down’, I will deal it. Guess I’m making a damned dealer decision here but there’s no harm in working with the kids that play poker…that’s my way of thinking anyway.

**And I did pick the right hand. I tried to run over A-3 D’s and Q-Q with 10-10. I could have pitched but what the hell. I’m tired. A little sleep will make Linda feel like a new girl.**

Some days are like a fog…I wake up, build coffee, try to jump start my brain into motion as I drift through emails/spam filter, sort out what I need to accomplish today, think about (and achieve) some form of exercise, make a few family phone calls or receive them, find the shower and fumble/mumble out the door to hit the freeway where everyone’s trying to kill themselves and they are determined to take the rest of us with them, slide into an employee parking space and race to catch the shuttle, make the building and walk down ‘heart attack hill’ to my locker – praying all of the Dasini bottled water isn’t sold out in the machines, and then up the escalator into the noisy casino to trudge dutifully into the poker room, clock in, and find out where the hell I’m going in the line-up. Believe me, this is only the beginning. The next eight hours are a jumbled mass of limits, people, games, people, poker hands, people, breaks, and people…people…people.

A typical night: There’s a game running in Bobby’s Room. I’m not dealing through there tonight so I don’t really care who/what’s going on in there, but through the glass doors I see Gus Hanson putting the ultra follow through on a golf swing…and yes…he has a club in his hands. There’s a golf bag with clubs in it leaning up against another door in the room. Gus swings repeatedly at the air.

Jennifer Tilly is moving around the room attached to Phil Laak. Cute! No…really! They look damned good together.

I sit down to deal $40-80 7 Card Stud – Joe R. is in the 5s. Yup…the subject of the last post. Before my butt hit the seat, he put his hand out across the table to me, “Linda, I’m really sorry. I’m sorry.”

I said, “It’s ok, Joe.”

I couldn’t help but reach over and touch his hand. I’m pleased that he thought about it and decided to tell me he was sorry. He should – damn it! Poker is poker but people are the most important part of your life. Don’t mess up your relationships with people just because you lose at poker. But getting past that part of it, it was nice to know that all the years we’ve spent together weren’t just an ‘air ball’.

I dealt a $2-5 NLH game. They were all noisy, blustery, ‘real’ players, and the action was unbelievable. Raise to $25 and six people call. Holy Chit Mon!

I had a little beef with the 7s. The 5s went all-in preflop. The main pot had approximatley $250 in it. The 6s and 7s were the only two left in the side action and the 7s was trying to talk the 6s into not betting…blah, blah, blah. I put a stop to it immediately. It’s very unfair and unethical for the two of them to try and cut a deal of any kind when another player is in the hand – even if he is all-in. I got an argument from the 7s. It was a little bit funny because each time the 7s checked, the 6s bet. The side pot was over $200. The 6s won all of it and the 7s wasn’t happy with him for betting. Bummer!

The 1s was extremely cocky, loved himself more than anyone else ever could (which is admirable in its own way). They were all talking and having fun. The 3s told me he’d kiss me if I gave him a pair. Umnhhh!!! What if I don’t want the kiss? And on and on they went through my half hour down.

I hit the next table, $30-60 H, and during this down, the 1s from the previous game jumped up and screamed, “Y-E-A-H! What a call!”

He’d called a big all-in bet from the 7s and his hand was good, forcing the 7s to buy-in again. Just after the 1s jumped up and screamed, a smattering of applause broke out around the game I was dealing. It swept like wild fire over the room. Everyone was applauding and screaming. As rapidly as the applause started, it stopped. It was so awesome though that Eric H. – 5s in my game – and I both busted out laughing.

While dealing through a $20-40 Stud game, rebounding chips or my hand, hit the Shuffle Master Button and the door popped up, spilling $5 chips into it and around the sides of it. It took me a moment to extricate the chips and I removed the shuffled deck so the door would close. I’ve never had chips fall into one before but it doesn’t look like they would create a problem because all shuffling, etc. is over before the door can be opened.

This same game, I pushed Bill a big pot and the player next to him made a comment, “…it must be nice…”

Bill hit him with, “We’re getting married,” motioning to me.

I chuckled. Almost on the defense, he informed me I could do a lot worse than him. As I finished the deal, I stated, “If I was looking, you’d be the first one I’d ask.”

See how easy it is to escape. I’m a pro at it.

And in this same game, the dreaded Mike D. or Israeli Mike, occupied the 1s. He thought he took a big beat when he had Queens Full in six. He got really lucky because he was heads-up with his friend in the 7s. His friend made Aces Full in five and Quads on the River and the hand was checked out.

Mike still looks for reasons to not get along with me. He has played very little in the room in the last few years and I still have no tolerance for his abusive behavior towards dealers, although he’s much better now because he knows he’s 86’d if he steps out of line…especially if I’m dealing.

The world is tuned in to the WSOP. I’m tuned in to the fact that my butt is dragging after every shift and none of it’s easy. There is no Sandbox. After a typical night of dealing, I’m crawling out the door, wishing the WSOP would be over so the room would quiet down…and vowing to play in it next year. Speaking of tournaments, this Sunday, $20 buy-in:

SUNDAY, JULY 17th
18:00 EDT (17:00 CDT)
PokerStars
“WPBT Charlie Tournament” under Tourneys -> Private tab in the lobby

This is a charity tournament for Charlie Tuttle’s family. Be there!

Hey…I think your name is Ben…you sent me an email and SpamKiller ate it when I tried to rescue it. I would be happy to answer if you resend. I hate it when I have to have wars with software programs. Damn things! Why can’t they just work like they’re supposed to?

*****

Monday night – no respite from all the noise and games. I dealt mostly high limit games and was even asked to work OT tonight. Jimmy needed 23 dealers to fill the graveyard shift. I asked to be first on the E/O on O/T. *laughing* I only had to deal a few minutes into O/T and I was out the door. But before I left, I had one of those experiences with a long time player that left me wanting to knock him off his chair…for more reasons than one.

$40-80 7 Stud. A game filled with dinosaurs. The dinosaurs? Give me stud or give me death, moaning and groaning around for years and the dinosaurs just can’t figure out that other people are trying to win too. And the dinosaurs are from the old school – the one where it’s always the dealer’s fault.

Enter Joe R. I’ve posted about Joe before. There are a lot of complexities in dealing with him and to him. We used to have a few laughs and joke around a little bit when I passed him or dealt to him but not anymore. I’ve felt a lot of sympathy for him over the last few years. He’s been dealt devastating blows by life and he’s aged…almost like one day someone sucked the life out of him. It’s hard to see him this way. It’s even harder when he still wants to backhand the cards across the table when he takes a beat. He always had a fit when he took a few beats, even when I first dealt to him at The Mirage in 1989, after all, no one was ever supposed to beat him. Not much has changed in that area.

Joe was in the 1s tonight – a few new faces at the table – and Joe lost a hand because he elected to check it out with Walter on Fifth Street. If Joe had followed through with his betting, he would have won the pot. He was irritated that Walter caught two small pair and Joe made some comment. I could take the comment as being made at me or at Walter and I chose to ignore it.

The game turned into a little ‘chip slammer’. Lots of action and Joe started with Aces and four people joined in a max raised hand. Apparently another player started with Aces too but the 2s made three 8’s on the River and Joe was the only one that paid him off. Card slammer…backhand those babies into the middle of the table and grumble/mumble to the max.

I’ve put up with a lot of tirades from Joe and mostly they just go right over my head but this one really got me. It showed me that he has no ethics and that was part of what irritated me.

Joe and the 8s went to war. On 7th Street, the 8s was high with a pair of Sixes showing…he bet, Joe called. The 8s turned up Queens and Sixes and left one card face down.

I said, “All cards please.”

The 8s turned up another six for Sixes full of Queens. I said, “Sixes full of queens.”

Joe backhanded his cards into the middle of the table and as I pushed the pot to the 8s, Joe growled, “You’re a fucking genius…your just a fucking genius.”

In essence, he was trashing me because I asked to see all the cards…clearly our house rule, in order to claim the pot, you must show all cards. And I’m postive the 8s knew he had a full house, he just didn’t turn it over correctly. He may have been opting for a slow roll but I don’t know the man and I’d bet money he wasn’t slow rolling. I also don’t believe that he was unaware of the full house and there was no way I was ever going to get by him by pushing the pot to Joe if Joe showed two bigger pair. Obviously Joe could beat Queens and Sixes and he felt that I should have shut up and not asked for whole the hand. Which brings me to the point that Joe just lost a trillion points on the Poker Ethics Meter with me.

I pulled the deck together and calmly said, “I may not be a genius, but I am definitely not a FUCKING genius!” directly to Joe.

He shut right up. Good thing for him because I was ready to blow a cork at the idea he would think I was supposed to bypass the 8s’s down card and not ask for the whole hand at showdown.

Guess that’s why dinosaurs are extinct…they couldn’t adapt.

This is an anniversary for me. Not a pretty one. In 1969, my husband of nine months died, leaving me alone, thousands of miles from family, eight months pregnant with a four year old son from another marriage, and to add despair on grim, I missed $50,000 in life insurance by about 11 days. Hell…I just didn’t have $18 to pay the premium and I never thought he would die at the age of 23. It happened so long ago and so many other events have filled in big chunks of time and space in my life that it’s almost as if it didn’t really happen to me…unless I’m in the mood to shake out all the saddies and saturate myself in sob.

My life has never been ordinary or easy; filled with numerous tragedies when I was younger and the struggle to raise children when money only stretched to a week before payday, and trying to raise myself at the same time (that may have been the hardest part of all of it) at times left me wondering how I would make it another day, let alone to the ‘golden years’. But this isn’t a tale of woe or crying. It is appreciation for learning to appreciate…I am to the nth.

*****

Friday night I managed to sizzle out of the line-up again. *gasp* What is going on? I was actually on hold when I hit the room; a strange experience that hasn’t happened in over a year that I can recall. I was also first on the Play List so within 20 minutes or so, I was looping the room, looking at games, people, the noise and confusion, and had my name on a $15-30 H list. When I did get a seat, I’d already met Michael, a Clan poster and Tango reader. He even managed to snag a seat in my game later in the night…he was in a $2-5 NLH game when I came in to work. By the time he got to my table, I was already clocked out and sucking down a Michelob Ultra. We visited, stacked chips, and played, played, played. I gave up my seat after a few hours, ready to start my weekend with a win, and I left Michael stacking chips too. Some of the greatest people in the world hang out at the poker table. *wonnerfulness*

*****

Saturday – yesterday – was Pan/Big Deuce/Poker night at my house. I had several new people coming, the regulars, and most special of all, Jason and Anah. Jason has returned from San Diego and therapy and arrived to spend a few hours with all of us…where he left off months ago before the motorcycle accident. He’s managing much better than I believe I would. There are no words to describe how great it was to share hugs and have the opportunity to sit and visit.

The card party busted up close to 1 a.m. and I had a hiking date with Chad, Greg, Christoph, and Monika at Mt. Charleston this a.m. And sleep – just what the hell is that? I’m running on empty We hiked the trail up towards Mary Jane Falls and went left – looking for Big Falls. We made it up into the canyon by crossing a raging little stream, run off from snow melting, too many times and finally gave up at a point where the remainder of an avalanche formed a treacherous bridge over the top of the stream. The walls of the canyon became steeper as our journey progressed. Greg took this picture, we are on the far right of the avalanche/ice bridge.

The streams are treacherous and tricky to navigate. The water’s raging, the rocks are slick, and most of the logs and debris that has washed downhill is unstable and won’t hold a person’s weight. We’d been climbing steadly up for well over an hour when we decided to give it up and head back. This is what we faced as we looked up the canyon towards Big Falls.

Perhaps another day later in the summer – the hike won’t be as difficult if the stream isn’t there, unfortunately if the stream isn’t there Big Falls probably won’t be either. But what the hell! It was a great day shared with great friends. Lunch at The Mt. Charleston Lodge and back home, in the desert heat by noon. It just don’t get any better than this! *appreciation in progress*

Thursday night, mass mayhem, heat, and too much noise in the room…somewhere off in the nether regions of poker, players were jumping up and screaming over a beat or a win – that usually would be in the $2-5 NLH game, but it was happening everywhere it seemed. It’s become a common occurrence because, after all, a poker table is like being on stage. You can hold the floor anytime by making the most noise, having the most chips, groaning or screaming the loudest – and you have a captive audience…not only those trapped at your table trying to get their money back or trying to win more, but the whole playing field surrounding your table has to put up with your noise. Sometimes those energetic bursts are funny, other times they are a nuisance and shred the last jangled edge of MY nerves…that happened to be the case. More than once I wanted to scream, “EVERYONE…JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

I didn’t. I just kept repeating, over and over, to myself, ‘Deep breath, Linda. D-e-e-e-p breath….’ It must have worked, I made it through the full shift. Even though I was four on the Play List and six on the E/O, there was never a snow ball chance in Hell that I was going to make it out of the line-up.

A thread that always surfaces – it’s $30-60 H, unknown player takes the 5s, a few minutes into game play the discussion of who’s playing in Bobby’s Room comes up. The 5s queries the 2s, “If you were the best poker player in the world, do you think you’d have a chance at beating that game?”

An answer came that wasn’t what the 5s thought he should hear so he rephrased the question and threw in, “I think you’re missing what I’m asking.”

I knew on the first question that he was implying they were all cheating and that you could never beat them. After the 2s replied, “No,” and the 5s continued with more statements, I opened my big mouth. I stated that I just did not agree with that at all…that I’d been dealing to them for years.

He told me they could do it so that I would never notice. He could be right but I still don’t agree with him. I’ve watched them and listened to them for years while dealing to them and I just don’t believe it happens in this day and age in most casino poker rooms. First of all, a cheater is usually the one that can catch another cheater because they know what to look for, and I believe that with poker stepping into the mainstream, survellience, shuffling machines, dealers that can’t even handle a deck – let alone know how to set one up, and random seat changes, games, etc., that it just isn’t happening.

I happen to question why anyone would want to set down in that game. It’s my strange ‘brain twists’ stepping into the forefront right now. I did deal to Bill Gates in a $3-6 H game at The Mirage years ago. I think he has the right idea. He just wanted to play poker. If I were a tri-zillionaire, I would do other things with my time and money. I could see coming in and playing every hand in a $15-30 or $30-60 game upon occasion, but playing with any group in particular…nope…and players in lower limit games have a lot more fun when they play than players in high limit do. There have been a few players though – especially in high limit – that I’ve dealt to over the years that were so mean and gnarly to dealers (including me) that if I were a tri-zillionaire, I would play in a game with them. When I won a pot from them, as I pulled it towards my stacks, I would innocently look at the dealer and ask, “Who was in that pot with me?”

When the dealer replied, I would push it all towards the dealer and state, “Oh…then you keep it!”

I believe that would be the greatest pay back to the jerk/jerkette that I could mete out for all the years of suffering through their ‘mean and ugly’ modes. I might even start belly laughing as I pushed it to the dealer. I do have a mean streak.

But on that side of poker, the jerks/jerkettes are few and far between anymore in comparison to when I first hit the poker rooms in Nevada. It’s really a slice of pie to deal the games if you just do your job and there’s very little player heat. Nice!

On a really nice side, I met Scott from Boston. He was waiting for me when I hit the room and we had a chance to visit for a few brief moments and I dealt to him later in the night. He told me that I didn’t have to write about him…but how could I not. He pumped up my ego so much that it would be a shame to just let him stay tucked away in my thoughts. He manages a restaurant and is entertaining the thought of dealing. He also plays poker and runs a home game. He told me that when he first found my site, he printed out pages of my writing and took it for reading materical on a flight he was making. He went on to say that he thought of me as a rock star. *WOW* And when I left the game he was playing in, he simply said, “Rock on, Linda.”

The cream always does come to the top. And I find most of it…or it finds me!

I’m beyond believing that I ever had the capability to think or function as a human being. My brain is fried. My body doesn’t need a picture of my brain being fried, it just knows that nothing is filtering down from the unit that is supposed to control all the motor senses and desires/wants of this being known as ‘Linda’. I have finally reached the point to where poker makes no sense to me at all…people sitting down armed with chips and what? Good sense? Skill? More money than they have brains? ARGHHHH!!!! I’ve reached ‘tournament burnout’. No…we are not having a tournament (and we are going to have the $10,000 buy-in Bellagio Challenge Cup running Monday-Thursday, July 18-21, starting at noon) but we get high limit players from the overflow of the games of the WSOP. Trying to describe it from the Dealer’s POV is tough. You’d have to sit in the box and fade it, day after day, to get the full gist of what’s going on in that black hole in my brain. And I’m not the only one with the black hole. I truly believe all the employees and the players have it.

Tournaments are a grind. They beat everyone into a mindless mass and there is no recuperation period. When one place isn’t having one, another one is and it just keeps revolving and rotating around in a spiraling vortex – straight into Tournament Hell. I’ve reached a point to where I HATE TOURNAMENTS.

I hit every high limit game in the room…I think. There were probably a few lurking somewhere that I missed. Thank my lucky stars if I did miss a few. I hit Bobby’s Room twice, Table 1 – $4,000-8,000 Mixed, Johnny C. – 1s, David B. – 2s, Gus H. – 3s, Barry G. – 4s, Chip R. – 7s. Woo Hoo! Yup…it’s such an honor to deal to them. Oh please, notice the sarcasm dripping off of each letter…believe me, it’s there.

A $200-400 H game played as fast as a $2-4 H game. Just raise, raise, raise – go to heads-up, more raise, raise, raise. Unreal how fast the high limit games play at times. One player got in two raises with a 5-3 suited and busted off A-A by catching runner, runner to make a straight. Umnnnhhhh!

A $400-800 7 stud game with Christoph in the 1s was a treat to deal…mainly because of him. He’s a long-time friend and hiker buddy. He lives in Europe and hasn’t been in town for around two years. His girlfriend, Monika, is here also and we are planning a hike at Big Falls and Mary Jane Falls at Mt. Charleston this weekend.

As the night moved on and I was mentally beat from the temperature in the room (it’s always like an oven on Thanksgiving Day, never cools off), the noise, the complete mind bending mass of bodies and games, and trying to keep my full concentration on the games at hand, I finally hit a $4-8 H game late in the night in which the 4s was glaring, zinging, and flinging. I did a slight confrontational thing with him when he was waving his hands in the air and mumbling. I looked right at him and said, “Beg your pardon!!!!”

He went into the ‘prayer mode’ – hands together in front of him – looking apologetic…until the next hand was dealt. A few hands later he was sputtering and ready to blow and I looked at him and said, “Deep breath! D-e-e-p breath!”

The 3s cracked up. A few more hands and noise and the 8s opened. The 4s wanted to move there…fine…please go. The Button was in the 7s and the 4s which was now the 8s wanted to know if he could post and be dealt in.

“Yes. Put in $4.”

The 2s loudly informed me that the 8s couldn’t be dealt in there unless he was willing to ‘buy the button’.

Too much high limit and very little patience on my part, I barked, “I work here everyday! I know the rules! And yes, he can put in $4 and be dealt in!”

A moment later I was biting my tongue for going off on this kid. I apologized. He kept his head down and didn’t look up during the rest of my down. Ouch! I hate it when I do that. As I left the game, I reached over and touched his hand, “I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

I hit my next game which was Table 10 in Bobby’s Room, four handed, $1,000-2,000 and it only lasted about ten minutes. Whew! It was a little after 2 a.m. and I was getting the Double Bust Out. Thank you, GOD!

I’m still not happy with myself for barking at that kid in the $4-8 game. I can use the excuse that I’m brain dead, tournament bashed and beat up, and out of energy for having any rational thought – but the bottom line is that I don’t need to behave that way. Players do it to me all the time but I don’t want to be like everyone else and retort without my brain guiding my mouth. I seriously, always, try to listen to how I sound when I say something. And in that instance, I was rude. There was no softness in my voice. I hate it when I do that.

*note to self: Always remember it costs nothing to soften your words and show understanding…even if they’re wrong, there’s no right in being right when it’s done incorrectly.*

Some days are just unbelievably ‘not there’. That’s how last night registers for me right now. I had the worst time waking up to poker when I hit the room. For one thing, I dealt a half hour on Friday, took a break, got out to play, jumped into a $15-30 H game, stacked up a sizeable win in 40 minutes, found out I could E/O, and that’s exactly what I did. It was like having a three-day weekend which makes coming back to work hard to swallow…especially when the overall effect of the room, filled with bodies and noise, is almost suffocating to me after hanging out in my own quiet space.

I drifted through a decent line-up, nothing complex, no screamers, and no one dying if they didn’t win. I kept trying to force myself to concentrate on dealing, watching the bets, keeping track of the pots, and all the little nuances that go into my profession. It finally worked…along about four to five hours into my shift.

One $4-8 H game left me chuckling when a Swedish youngster, in the 8s, had a verbal fit with an older gentleman in the 2s. I can’t help it…the personality display of people has me cracking up at times (not necessarily the incident) at how a person must perceive themselves to react to other people the way they do in public places.

It went like this: The 2s was in the BB and called a raise from the 8s…so did a few other people. The pot grew on the Flop and the Turn and the 2s check-raised the 8s on the River. The Board was something like 3-5-6-9-2 rainbow. It was heads-up when the 2s turned over Q-4 for a straight.

The 8s quickly mucked and then went into a tirade. “Stupid fucking old man!” he snorted to everyone around him (I don’t believe the 2s even heard him). I barked, “That’s enough!”

He lowered his voice but continued his tirade to the 7 and 9s. “What an idiot. How stupid is that fucker? Calling a raise with a hand like that?”

I said, “WE are all here to have fun. Let’s just play poker and drop it.”

8s to the 2s, “How could you even play that hand for a raise?”

Me, “Stop it! Let’s just play cards.”

8s, “I’ll say anything I want.”

My voice got a little hard here, “NO you won’t! First of all, he paid for his chips. He’s entitled to play any hand the way he wants to play it and you are not going to say anything about it and you have to stop swearing.”

The 8s countered, “I’m not swearing.”

Me, “Yes you are. You’ve used the ‘F’ word more than once.”

The 7s jumped in and verbally agreed with me.

The noise from the 8s stopped. The 5 and 8s were friends and the 5s left a few minutes later, after telling everyone goodnight. The 8s wasn’t far behind but he gave away most of his chips in the next few hands and left the game shortly after that.

I find it amusing that the world revolves around certain players, new and seasoned, young and old, and they are the only ones entitled to win. The rest of the world should just mail in a check to ease the stress of those ‘certain players’. But coupled with the amusement is the amazement that they want to bash a player for giving action and winning a pot. And while they are bashing, they try to pull the player next to them into their bash and make themselves look good – consequently making the player giving action look like an idiot for even sitting down at the table.

If it wasn’t for the whole world wanting to get in on the action, how could we have the wonderful Poker Buffet running around the world? *Advertisement for Poker Buffet* Come on in and pull up a chair, cards served continuously, chip purchasing available all hours, and when the smoke clears from too much action and you have time to look at the over view, you get a little insight into life…people…and yourself.

See you there!