Long week

Having had a few days in Prague last week for the i-Gaming SuperShow conference, online poker had been non-existent in my world until tonight when I managed to bubble for a PKR WSOP stage 3 ticket (again) and got my money back to try again later in the week.
Meeting John Tabatabai (who seemed suitably impressed/surprised that I, a girl, played poker) at ungodly o'clock in the queue for the flight at Gatwick airport on Tuesday morning, meant I was, in turn, suitably inspired and itching to get my hands on some Czech chips sooner rather than later.
With all the crazy parties (don't get me started on the midgets and balaclava-clad gunmen at Calvin Ayre's birthday) and gatherings to attend, I played just twice in Prague, once from 11pm to 6am (when the hotel casino closed, which, as a Londoner with access to 24hr poker, was surreal and, at the time, a bit of a disappointment as I was just starting to re-build my empire).
6am represented a personal 'best' late/early finish time for me; with hindsight it was a good thing they chucked us out, it allowed me at least 2 hours' sleep before day 2 of the conference - and it saved my suit jacket on the back of my chair from another soaking from the Canadian numpty stood behind me, who had doused it in a glass of some spirit and coke, stumbling about around half 5.
I also played on the last afternoon of the conference week, unofficially, at the networking meet-up bar along with a handful other industry luminaries/layabouts.

I should have given up the Hilton casino appearance around 4am when I was 400 quid up and before the (free and very-strong-and-getting-stronger) Jack and cokes started making over-ballsy/plain piss poor decisions on my behalf. I ended up 100 quid to the good, which was pleasing enough, but wish I had been knackered when I had the monster stack in front of me and my 'competition' was drunk Europeans who work in gaming and therefore think they're Phil Ivey.
I quadrupled my money in the casual (and veerrrryy loose) game on the Friday, which ensured a McDonalds 'feast' at the airport and sufficent Magners, vin blanc and Easyjet nibbles for the girls in my office on the plane home.

Am feeling very good about poker at the moment and, aside from the Jack-fuelled, middle of the night blip on Wednesday, I am playing well, without having to think too much most of the time, it is coming pretty naturally; I have to be due something really good soon. Surely? ...

Slain by the Dragon

I had my best ever live tourny result on Friday night. So, why, one may wonder, did it end in tears (literally), kicking a tiled wall in the ladies loos?

The venue was the London Poker Circuit at Kensington Close Hotel. A nice tournament, 5k starting stack, freezeout, decent structure and decent players for the most part (but some very questionable calling with A-3 type hands early and some over-adventurous moves in the middle when there still seemed ample time to me).
I had won probably only 3 pots of really sizeable proportions for the first couple of sessions, one with KK that I had the total fear about, having seen a guy busted with them twice in 2 hands 5 mins before; once losing to a full house over trips v AK on the river and the 2nd time losing to a straight I think.

I think a couple of the guys, one who I could have sworn was Snoop Dogg, thought I was there to be bullied and tried to chuck out some big raises against me which got the heart pumping, but which also got (correctly) called.

I got very lucky with pocket Jacks that I seriously considered shoving with preflop late-ish on with 2 tables left, but opted for a decent raise, which was called by one player. Flop was A-5-7. My opponent, who was shorter than me, went all in. I had got myself into a spot of bother by over-committing myself and, while I was pretty sure he had caught, I just had a sense my jack would come. And, equally, I wasn't going to sit there with a handful of chips, needing to shove with a lesser hand, 10 mins later when it had got beyond critical.

He turned over his Ace first, which I acknowledged with an 'I know'. Then he turned an 8. His 8 also paired on the turn, which obviously didn't change much, other than to make him even sicker when the Jack did come on the river.

I honestly couldn't help my 'whoo-hoo', which was ill-advised, I know, but really, genuinely, out of relief, other than anything else. I hate Jacks at the best of times, it was just so nice to see them do me a favour for once.

So I had eeked and creeped my way to the final table, never going below my starting stack, which I think is a first for me, certainly live or in an MTT.
I arrived at the Promised Land around 8th I think, making a big double-up early, when a guy raised from early position to have me shove over the top with A-Q diamonds. He collapsed in a heap when everyone else had folded and he realised he had to call for another 7-8k even though he only had 3-4 off suit (and worse, show the cards to the rest of the table). I then managed to knock out the guy to my left, raising with KK the same amount as I had done the hand before when I saw 10-10 which was enough to take it down pre-flop. He shoved over the top, everyone folded back to me. I couldn't do anything but call and my cowboys held up vs his A-8.

I got involved in a pot which got messy, with the aforementioned 3-4-off raiser. I had 7s, with which I raised pre-flop and got called. With an A and Q as well as a couple of under cards by the turn, when he shoved, I figured I was losing to too many hands to put my tournament life at risk.

A couple of the big stacks then proceeded to clash, taking each other out, leaving me 5th but very short and blinds coming round and going up (I think I had 4-5 BBs left at that point).

So, with the actual money being secondary (it was only 4x the buy in for 4th place) and more the principle of cashing the thought at the forefront of my mind, I was stuck between ensuring I wasn't being blinded out like a loser and not making a silly shove; and therefore trying to find a sensible enough middle-ground move.
I ended up seeing K-J clubs from early position not long after and figured they were as good as any.

My friend at the other end now his with the Top Gun shades on and a cheeky smile said, 'oh no, please, not a big pocket pair' and called. I turned my bottom lip over, shrugged and flicked the cards over into the middle. He had 8s. 8s!! My favourite pocket pair, how they could they possibly put me out?!
I stood up, with no remaining influence other than a 'Do your job, Dealer' comment. He tried, in fairness to him; 2 clubs out on the flop. I thought for a moment he'd find another. Or a King. Or a Jack. So many outs...

And then it was over. I was 5th of 31.
Bubble.
Again.

I shook Top Gun's hand and that of the remaining other 3 (like they do on tele on the feature tables nearing the end of a tournamnent). I picked up my handbag and pashmina and walked over to Leigh who was playing cash, having got unlucky and gone out 7th. He looked up at the screen, to check how many players were listed as left and the prizes being awarded, looked back at my sad face and then his face dropped too as he realised what I had done. Or rather not done...

I thought I'd let him down as much as myself. And, so, like any self-respecting amateur that heaps far too much pressure on herself, I went and kicked the tile in the toilets and spent the next 5 mins trying to get rid of my puffy eyes and tidying up my mascara.

It's like trying to get to the next level on a computer game; you spend ages, going through the motions, jumping from ledge to ledge, dodging bullets and flying baddies, picking up extra energy/weapons, finding the secret door to fast-track yourself along; you can do most of it in your sleep - and then when you've got through all of that with your skill, guile and luck, you just have to finish off the big dragon-y monster to advance, but he always smokes you.

One day soon, that bloody dragon is going to get what's coming to him. It is surely only a matter of time.

I hope.

You are kidding me!

Had a very jolly (but another late) poker night last night, courtesy of Bluff and their new, rather swish, room in the Mint Casino at South Ken.

It was an industry 20 quid NLHE freezeout, so, having registered myself as a member of the club (why not) and claimed my free welcome beer, I went and said hi to friends, associates and current and ex colleagues and had a nose in the empty tournament room, where there were I think 5 tables, a little close together, but comfortable enough. I wasn't sure if all the players and their egos were going to squeeze in, though.

They had 2 cash tables in the 'front' room where the poker reg desk and little bar were and they got going sometime after 9 and were still full when I finally left at about 2am. Is a decent place, good felt, feels 'new', very nice people too from front desk to pretty blonde lady at the bar. Drinks are good value and I am in love with the toasties for a pound.

There were 38 runners, with 2000 chips, blinds were every 25 mins I think but they seemed to shoot up and we started to lose players regularly after 40mins or so, making moves with short stacks and getting beaten. I played APPAULINGLY for the first hour. Clearly not oiled enough and totally in my shell with important people on my table that I didn't want to make an arse of myself in front of, in spite of them clearly having very low expectations of the plucky girl, who was, patently to them, just there to have a go at this poker lark, possibly bought in by her boss or boyfriend etc and who clearly wouldn't play regularly again, there or anywhere else.

Grrrrrrr.

So, while I should have certainly called on a 2 pair board 2s, 9s on the turn, with A high, I made a couple of very nice lay-downs and then, having been there a while and growing in confidence, I hit 2 pair on the flop from the big blind which I had been allowed to check with 5-3. I bet 3/4 of the pot and a third of my remaining stack and got one caller, one Michael Caselli, who wasn't short of chips, confidence, chat or cheeky tongue-poking-outing. When there was a semi-blank on the turn, putting 2 diamonds and 2 hearts out there, I decided to shove, half expecting him to call - for entertainment if nothing else, even if the odds were not quite there or thereabouts. I decided, if I was to go down, I would do so hurling (non-malicious) abuse, so, in my inimitable and unladylike fashion, suggested he should 'ship em'.

Thankfully he did.

So, after the break, we're down to the last 14 or so; I am, comparitive to most, very short, mind.

I have my boss to my right; he gets busted by a former colleague of mine, Steve, in a 3-way all in which, in my humble opinion, was a silly shove in the first place with A-8 off under the gun, that got 2 callers - and a sick turn or river that gave Steve a whole bunch of chips.

I found JQ suited a couple of hands later, so shoved and was called by Steve with pocket 6s. Happy with that pre-flop and stood to get my beer and kneeled on my chair, to thankfully see the dealer award me my Jack on the turn.
So... still short, but at least some chips, now. We are now down to 1 before the final table.

I am in the small blind, it has folded round to me, with Steve in the big blind. I see 4-4 and figure I should get them in again, without messing about. The total bet is 3600, a third of Steve's stack, expecting to be racing against a decent ace, hopefully not a bigger pocket pair - or just mopping up his blind; either is good for me.

Steve says ‘call’ very casually and quickly, and throws in a couple of hundred chips and then fiddles with his cards.

Everyone looks puzzled and waits for the other 3300 to cross the line. Then he realizes I had gone all in and gets really flustered, saying all he wanted to do was check and he tries to fish his red 100 chips back out and now wants to fold. The dealer is insistent that he said call so it’s a call.

Now I am torn between trying to convince the dealer to let him fold, just in case he does catch the one half-decent card he obviously has, or seconding his decision to enforce the call, because if Steve actually has bugger all, I can get some lovely, easy, free money, just because his brain was otherwise occupied at that moment.
Then it strikes me that, of course, whatever he has, he is going to beat me because there is no God. And I say just as much out loud.

He flips over K-7 off. Flop comes K-7-5.

Needless to say, no other 4’s or straight-connecting cards appear on the turn or the river. I was steeeaaaaming. That is exactly the kind of hand that the all in is there to get rid of!! I might burst.

'Double jack and coke, please, bar-keep'.

The whole casino had heard about it (some of them twice) by the end of the night. My taxi driver had to listen to me chanter on all the way home, but, in fairness, he did ask.

Steve won the tournament eventually. Game of skill, my arse.

So near....

So my colleague, Sarah, and I made our way to Chiswick Poker Club, contained within Chiswick Snooker Club, last night. We had elected to make a bit of an evening of it, having dinner at the Blueberry before and a few glasses of nerve-settling white wine for Sarah, who was making her 'competitive' (ie playing against strangers for real money, on or offline) debut.

Neither of us really knew what to expect; we had just hoped it would be friendly to us, but to paint the picture, imagine a large darkened room, lit mainly from the lights behind the bar and over the snooker tables in use, situated at the arse end of an industrial park near the M4, with vans and Fiestas in the car park, populated exclusively by around 30-odd men, aged 35-60, mostly in tracksuits or old jeans and work's airtex polo shirts, drinking pints of Carling.

Imagine then, the stir that 2 late twenties/early 30's females could cause by toddling in; one short, curvy, northern, ballsy, blonde in summer dress and cream heels, one thin, tall, very pretty English rose-esque, shy-er brunette, in smart black trousers and top. Then multiply that stir by 10 when the blonde announces that they'd like to register to be poker members and play in the 9pm re-buy.
I think it took no more than 10 mins for the word to spread. I heard whispers of 'they're playing, you know', and 'yes, those 2 at the bar' and saw a couple of knowing/confused/beaming looks exchanged between the regulars.

So, we set about our forms and tackling our Guiness Extra Cold and Vodka, (neon, cat urine coloured) lime and soda (which together cost no more than a fiver). Before long, a slender, weathered chap with a pierced ear came over and politely confirmed for himself the rumour that we were here for the cards. He introduced himself as Eddie and extended a hand; he told us he'd be dealing and playing, as he does every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday there (he also plays in Twickenham on a Wednesday and in 2 other spots on the other days, giving himself one day a week off, never playing online as he thinks poker is about playing people not cards).

He made Sarah certainly feel at home and she was seated on his table, thankfully so knew she was going to be looked after with blind posting and what her options were in terms of checking, betting and folding. I drew table 1, seat 5.

The tournament was a £10 rebuy, 2000 starting chips, 10 quid for another 1000 if you got busted, but (seemingly occasionally and randomly) offered £5 top ups of 1000 during the first hour, regardless of stack, which seemed silly not to do at half price.

At the end of the re-buy hour, you could buy an additonal 3000 for a tenner, 6000 for a purple note and 9000 for 30 quid. Most people took 9000 which made that decision easy for me, with around only my starting stack in front of me, courtesy of a middle pair that was outkicked, a full house bettered by a bigger full house and a pair of 7s that ran into Aces.

With some chips and finally some proper cards, I called a raise to a decent player pre-flop with QQ which hit their set first card out on the board. I cunningly check called on the flop with a K and 5 also out there, and check-checked on the turn, which I think could have been an Ace, thinking back. I bet just over a third of the pot on the river when a 2 came, which he called almost as quickly as I flipped my ladies. I sensed a slight hush as he nodded 'you're good, nice hand', but I was still pretty short and only managed to mop up the blinds, shoving with KK pre flop with an average stack, of around 10 big blinds a little later.

It was a funny atmosphere, much like a home game, certainly not as tidy on the table as I am used to, even playing after hours in the office. On our first table, at least, everyone was sorting out their own change from their bets, mucked cards just went into the middle with the chips and burn cards, guys would often show the chap next to them their mucked cards, as they were throwing them away, or even fish them back out, mid-hand, to make a point about how unlucky they are. Sometimes they'd chat about the hand even if they weren't in it. While I didn't partake in any of the above, I didn't mind all that much; it was just different and a reminder, if I needed it, that no-one was taking it (or themselves) too seriously, which was refreshing.

I made the final table, happily - not the shortest stack, but way behind the 4 leaders. Sarah had gone out, very respectably, about 13th, getting them in with JJ only to be called by the big stack on her table; an athletic, mixed race guy with big scary muscles, tattoos and a shaved bald head (but yet puppy dog hazel eyes), who called and showed QQ.

At the final table, starting with the button in seat one, next to Eddie the dealer, who was now out himself, I folded lots of marginal hands, and one good one that I probably should have shove/called with, but bottled it as I just had a flash of women's intuition that the guy had a big pair and if my A didn't hit I'd be in bother.

2 of the other shorter stacks got busted out. I had checked my option in the big blind with 8-2 clubs. Flop came down J-7-2 (J and 7 being clubs). Big muscle-bound-tattooed man bets 3200, around a third of my remaining stack, with I think 2000 in there already.

I just fancied he might have gone all round it, so with my 'huge' pair of deuces but more importantly the flush draw, I pondered a moment, took a deep breath and announced all in, trying to look as cool and unbothered as I could and certainly not standing up and looking like I was on my way home just yet. He screwed up his face, which told me he didn't have a jack and he had probably just kissed that 3000 goodbye in his head. I couldn't help but laugh out loud when he folded, saying he hadn't caught any of it, but wasn't showing either of my cards, just in case I needed some fold equity later.

I managed not long after to knock the owner, Chad, out. This kind of move, as a newbie, will of course fast track you to some weighty respect, or possibly get you barred... He took it very well though. I had been sat to his left on the first table, he was loose, aggressive and had also been dealt some seriously good cards, the aforementioned Aces that trounced my 7s early - and quad Queens once; one of the 4 quads we saw on our table. I decided on this hand, seeing K-10 spades, to call from early-ish position, fully intending to shove if someone made me pre-flop, or on the flop seeing anything but 2 As or 3 red cards. Chad did shove, leaving me a paltry and pointless 2k when I called.

He flips A-Q off. Eeek. His A came on the flop, but so did 2 spades, and a spade on the river, while making his straight, completed my flush.

Phhhheeeeeeeeeeeewwwwwwwwwwwww.

I realised, with the chips all coming my way to join the 2 whites that had been returned to me a minute before, uncalled, what I had done, and ridiculously apologised to him (more for the river suck out than busting him), and stood and leant across to shake his hand; anyone would have thought I was the one that had been knocked out. What an idiot. Am far too polite sometimes.

So then there were 5. 2 guys to my left that had had loads all the way through, one chap with a bit more than me and one with about the same. 4 were to be paid, 1st was getting around 380, I think, 4th getting 80 and 2nd and 3rd 200 and something and 100 and something respectively.

I think the boys had realised they were in a game now, there wasn't so much to pick between us either in stacks or ability, I felt; I could chuck out some pre flop 4x BB raises and get them to fold, in fact I had developed a thing for raising or folding pre flop and very rarely calling. I only realised I was doing it just before final table and figured I shouldn't stop then.

But then I got over excited, raising with Q-10 off, under the gun when realistically (and with the magic of hindsight) it was clearly a calling spot, at best. I am putting this down to (free) Magners and a slight case of tiredness, having been playing for 5 hours. I put nearly a third of my stack in, to hear 'fold' (Gooood...) from the next chap, but then 'all in' from the big stack, who, from what I had been able to gather, was a pretty tight but aggresive-when-needed player. Fold, fold at the other end of the table, unsurprisingly, and back to me.

Oh bugger.

My eyes roll back into my head and my brain clicks into gear.

.... So... If I call, putting my tournament on the line, but, somehow, miraculously win, I am the queen of the world; I have decimated Billy Big Stack and can push everyone else around or watch them scrap it out. This is a very good thing and, for a split second, I seriously consider this course of action.

However, if I call and see QQ, KK, AA or even JJ, another decent pair or, still AK, and (of course less likely but still possible, if he has sniffed my weakness) AQ, AJ, even A-10, and lose (and bubble) i) I am going to be absolutely livid with myself, much more livid than I already am and ii) I am going to feel - and look - really silly.

Why on earth did I raise? The cards look even worse now. Silly Hawkins.

I decide I have to fold. He doesn't show, of course, they are all speculating like me; KK, AA? The guy to my left reckons it was KK - he plays with him a lot, so I am going with his thinking and counsel, although he may just have been trying to make me feel better.

So now I am pretty short, 15k behind the next best and 25-30k+ behind the leader. I find QJ suited (spades) in the BB. I have the dealer (muscle, tattooed, baldy, puppy-eyes man) limping in and the small blind folds. I check, hoping to see either of my picture cards on the flop - and if they come, the chips have got to go in, I figure.
Flop is K, J, 3 rainbow. I gulp for a moment about the over card, but the chips are in and I am left with just my hole cards in front of me, praying that he doesn't have a King and he will either fold or maybe chase me and lose. I would take either.
He calls waaayyy too quickly for my liking; he has to have a King. This is far from ideal.

'It's ok', I think to myself, 'you can still hit another Jack or a Queen'.
Nothing I can do now anyway.

He waits for me to show. I announce 'Jack' a little bit hesitantly. He looks straight at me and, almost apologetically, says 'Trips' back to me. My eyes widen. He nods, to confirm what he has just said; like he thinks I think he is trying to mess with my head.

Ever the optimist, I suggest to myself it might only be trip 3s and the mountain might not be so high.

Then he lays the cowboys down. Oh dear.

It's a horrible feeling; for all intents and purposes drawing dead; best case scenario, drawing to a miracle. Especially on the bubble.

Nobody around the table (dares) announce that they folded one of my miracle outs. Eddie the dealer fist-taps the table, burns the top card and flips the turn. It was a 7, I think. It was low and and it was red, anyway, and therefore completely useless, so I have to go.

I shake hands with puppy eyes, thank everyone for their hospitality and wish them all luck, inside really wishing I was still sat with them and about to see another 2 cards.

I wander over to the bar, a little heavily and slowly as the disappointment really starts to hit, but pleased overall with how I played. I ask the nice guy AJ, Chad's nephew, to call me a cab to run me the short trip back down the High Road, as it's nearly 3am; Sarah had taken a cab about 40mins before as she had understandably had enough by then, even with them kindly putting the tele in the bar back on so she could watch Sex in The City between hands.

My merc chariot comes within 5 mins and I am home in another 3, get changed for bed and put my lotions and potions on.

What a good night, would have been brilliant to cash of course, and you never know with these things; one or 2 different decisions, cards or spots and I was competitive enough to have gone really deep there.

Not to worry, certainly no disgrace and I will definitely be back - happily confident I will be welcomed with open arms (and possibly air-kisses - I bet that doesn't happen much in there...).

I have a nice, new home, thanks fellas.

Nice training run

A tidy little 2nd in my SNG tonight. Enjoyed it and served as a nice livener for tomorrow night, when my colleague Sarah and I are due to go glam out the Chiswick Poker Den, I mean Club, after some dinner and wine in the Blueberry restaurant on the High Road.
Was miles behind going into heads up, but managed my usual swing back to the positive, only to get outdrawn twice in the space of not very many hands to leave me very short again. I was very lucky when my pocket 4s trip-ed on the river and made it quasi-competitive for a bit but I finally died when, short-stacked, my top pair (8) got runner, runnered for his straight.
I could get hissy and pissy but I won't; he was a nice chap, a decent player and I'd much rather get some proper cash out of tomorrow's 10 quid re-buy; will be a new experience for me, live re-buy poker, but think I have it down in my head what I need to do; with any luck, I can execute.
If not, there's (hopefully) always some house white to be sampled and we can always join the snooker club for 3 quid...

....One foot on the 1st step (still)

I can't be too disappointed. Just played my stage 2 WSOP PKR package qualifier, cashing in my ticket from the other night.
I made one really dumb call pre-flop when I was also sending a txt message and didn't pay attention as to who I was up against - the 2 short stacks, in the blinds, who both shoved and my 6-7 suited didn't look so pretty anymore after that action.
Successive pairs (6s and the usually enigmatic Js) when I had a decent stack (and, I'd like to add, played rather well and aggressively against the baby stacks who shoved and didnt have enough/any of the board...) knocked 2 players out, which got the rest of us to the money. - You'd have thought my fellow survivors would have shown a bit more respect.
...No, I wouldnt have either....
I ended up getting my (equivalent buy-in) money back, so I will so blatantly be doing stage 2 again at my earliest convenience (nice 8pm BST start time, all very work- and beauty sleep- friendly).
2 players got tickets to stage 3, but it clearly wasn't my turn to go through those gates tonight; was horribly and hideously card dead for 45 mins, when I could have done with any kind of pair, big ace - anything to get something resembling busy with!; One sizeable hand where my K-10 didn't hit against A-9 with a Q 5 5 5 2 board (which, incidentally, I played very averagely) didn't help. Not getting paid by anyone with AA (twice, in the space of 8 hands, mid-way through) was even less useful.
These qualis can be a lottery, I know, but getting your money back is, I guess, the next best thing to 'glory'. Am sure stage 3, if/when I get there will be proper squeaky-bum territory, but tonight says to me I can definitely get there, which is good enough for me - for now.

One foot on the first step of the steps going up to the plane going to Vegas!

I just got myself a WSOP level 2 quali ticket on PKR. I know it's small fry but I am dead chuffed, more with the way I played than anything else. All very measured when it needed to be, aggressive on occasion, got them in on a flush and straight draw and hit, thankfully, which made a huge difference, then when I got into a commanding chip position (albeit in 2nd, miles behind the chipleader), sat back and waited for premium hands to push the little people around with. Marvellous. A VERY long way to go, of course, but we are on our way. Whoo-hoo!

My local

Well I never did. There is a poker club in my very own Chiswick, W4.
I'll admit, the picture gallery on the website doesn't do much for it. That said, the Golden Nugget, if you take out the tables and the dealers/croupiers, could be a Chinese restaurant in Bolton in the 1980's...
Is seemingly all low-ish buy in tournaments, no cash games, but has to be worth a look.
This is wonderful news, but it could get expensive.

Not to be

Wasn't meant to be my night tonight. Did the 70 quid Golden Nugget freezeout. Was seated in seat 1 which I hate, at least I have every time but one - at the MGM Grand in the 11am tourny on our last day in Vegas where I had the hottest run of my life busting 4 players in the space of 10 hands with ridiculous cards and catches.
No such luck tonight - even sat next to my favourite dealer Gabe. Skinny blond, Hungarian chap, not my type but very sweet; I hadn't realised the first time he had dealt to me he was properly flirting. He has got it in his head I am really intelligent which clearly does something for him. Ok, I got 4 As at A level, but I have a good memory, not a really academic brain, and yes, I'm quick-witted, but I still haven't the heart to blow his illusion...
I was greeted with, "Where have you been, lovely? I missed you". Well dealing me 3-7 off, 4-8 off, 2-8 off is not the way to get me rushing back. I think I won 2 pots all night; pocket 8s (again, love 8s), which got rid of everyone with a chunky bet on the turn, and AK suited which scared everyone pre-flop (but with some antes for a bit more value) when I bet 2.5 times the big blind. Other than that my pocket Queens ran into Aces but I thankfully got away from them with a K on the flop and an A on the turn. When I elected to get aggressive, re-raising my pocket 6s on a pretty impotent board, I found myself up against an all in. Just as well I couldn't call, he had KK.
So, with a literally average stack and blinds uncomfortable if not painful, I found AQ in late position. In the pot, there were 10 antes, and, by the time it got to the big blind, 5 limpers (thought I'd be a bit clever/cautious, depending on the flop). BB (and swelled stack) decides to raise to 3k total, half my remaining stack. Could be a bit of a squeeze; it folded round to me, anyway. Yes, possibly A-something, possibly a small or decent pair. Either way, am figuring it's a coin toss or better to get seriously back into it as, if he calls and I win, it's 15k-plus coming my way. Hell, I've not seen many better hands all night.

So, after some consideration, I shove. The other 2 to my left fold. He asks for a count. The 6k total is at least a third but not half of his remaining stack, I think. He calls pretty quickly, but with a tinge of obligation. He shows 10-10. Am not too distraught about this and the customary 'good luck, ma'am' or 'let the lady be lucky' shouts of support go up, most of them really genuine, I think, the rest very polite and chivalrous.
The flop, while completing his set (greeted with pantomime-esque boos and hisses from my fellow players). at least awards me a straight draw. The turn gives me a flush draw. The river pairs the board and there is a gentle wave of disappointment the nice girl didn't take the villainous man's 'money'. I acknowledge the 'nice hand, sir' and gracefully shake his (limp) hand and retire. Gabe announces 'woman down' and I publicly appreciate the distinction he makes for me.
And that's that. Out half way through, I think doing the right thing.

Probably just as well, is my (pregnant) sister's 30th birthday tomorrow in a lovely Buckinghamshire real ale and Belgian beer pub. The last thing I needed was a late night; I am drinking for 2 tomorrow. Am still positive, am still playing ok, I just need a break.

Ups and Downs (and side toolbars)

After losing my voice all week (much to the hilarity of some of my clients and colleagues, who, finally, after day 2, accepted that it was a genuine throat infection and wasn't big-silly-night-out-on-the-smash-related), I wasn't on top form tonight, so I decided to forego public poker at the Golden Nugget and have a quiet night at home with seafood, chilli and garlic pasta and a glass or 6 of white rioja.

Had the PKR WSOP (stage 1) quali bit between my teeth when I logged in but, before that was due to start, I got warmed up with a baby 12 man SNG.

I should have at least cashed and, without wishing to sound like an arse, probably should have won it - yet somehow bubbled. If I tell you J-6 suited was finally beaten, all in, by 7-3 off, it will give you an indication of how the last 30 mins went for me. The big swing hand was A-8 ahead with an A on the flop vs his K-Q (his all in called by me for a 3rd of my stack, with aforementioned top pair on the flop) which runner-runnered me. Calm blue ocean, calm blue ocean, calm blue ocean...

...Then I got a teeeensy bit tilt-y, raising into the shortstack in the small blind with A-9, and calling his re-raise all in, only for him to show A-Q, which unsurprisingly, held up.

I have also, incidentally, decided that playing 2 tables at a time, even for a multi-task-enabled female, is not the way forwards; I am clearly a One Hand Woman. When the WSOP quali popped up, not only did I not get a good start in that as I was indecisive about playing hands like K-9 suited from late position, not having followed what had gone before etc, but, at the same time, I was slowly dying in the SNG; worst of both worlds - note to self; 'don't do that again'.

The quali went ok; finished 14th of 50. I won one big pot early with Ks which hit their set on the flop. Played it ok, especially as the left part of my brain was clinging on to the SNG at the time. Tripled up with A-8, later; the latter card completed a flush on the river (I was ahead pre flop when they went in, so shhh!) and the very next hand doubled up with 10s that held up v KQ (again all in pre-flop), which took me from 23rd to 8th.

I ended up raising with 5-5 from the button, called by the Dutch chipleader/nutter in the BB, who had a penchant for playing everything and making some loose plays and calls (as you can, with 40% of the chips in front of you) - but who could have just made a gentlemanly fold if the wind had been blowing in a different direction. Flop came 2,9,6 - I genuinely thought I was good, so shoved, called, he had A-9.
Another time.

Good experience overall tonight, I think; I am really looking forward to the 10k starting chips, 70 quid freezeout at The Golden Nugget tomorrow night; I am feeling good and confident and free to be aggressive at the moment, which I know my game is missing, particularly live.

I can feel some good underwear, hair straightening, perfume, heels, leg, lip gloss and, most importantly, some power poker coming on...

Back in The Game

Having not played (apart from on blackberry, which, while fun and time-killing on trains and buses, clearly doesn't count) for a week owing to various social commitments - and merely playing Moll to Leigh's Gangster in The Empire on Thursday night, when I couldn't, frankly, be bothered to i) stop drinking champagne and fresh fruit cocktails and gossiping with a girlfriend I haven't seen in months and ii) stay awake for the likely necessary 4hrs+ to make it worthwhile (although he was 800 quid up which meant nice dinner on Chiswick High Road on Saturday, bless him) - I was, in fairness, starting to get very twitchy tonight.

So, when I had nibbled my reheated lasagna from the other night, although way past my bedtime at half ten, I decided to flip the laptop open, log onto PKR and, in the absence of any soon-to-seat SNGs of any decent/inspiring description, I found myself drawn to the WSOP Stage 1 quali, due to start in 6 mins. 1 in 6 got a seat to Stage 2 - still some significant way from the flight to Vegas on 30th June, mind, but 'from little acorns' and all that...

Yes, I got a couple of very nice hands, but I induced some silly betting and got paid - and got properly and unprecedently aggressive (admittedly with pocket rockets on a less than intimidating board) and I was sitting pretty for most of the tournament in 1st to 4th, but then decided to start making some very clever moves; only problem being I chose, on all 4 occasions, to make them against the wrong players, who had the right cards.

I bubbled at the final table; I figured I was behind (perhaps not by quite as much as I actually was) when, rather short-stacked, I had hit 2nd pair (avec crap kicker - as they say in France), playing from the small blind for nothing more than value. When I bet it and got called, I figured she had to be drawing to the flush. When the 3rd heart came, making my 2 pair and with me slightly more pot committed than I'd have liked - but needs must-ed - it was one of those, 'if you've got it, good luck to you, love' moments.

And she did.

Bugger.

Disappointed of course but felt (mostly) very good. Plenty of time, too, for qualification for WSOP 2010.

And, besides, I'd have traded a ticket tonight for Spurs getting at least a point, and ideally 3, tomorrow night at Man City. Over to you, boys....