"I got a hat! It cost me $150, but I got a hat!"
-- Random Canterbury Park calling station, who had a straight flush on Friday.
Sadly, or not, the hat ended up costing him more like $250 before he busted for good.
*
I'm back after a multiple day trip to Minnesota for a wedding. Good times. It's kind of a shame that 'sotans are so nice, though -- it pretty much eliminates the possibility of a commercial tagline that really needs to happen:
I'm Denny Hecker, bitches!.
Can you tell I listened to far too much radio during my twenty-odd hours in the car?
If not, maybe this'll do it: I listened to no fewer than seven different stations featuring the 'we play everything and use a random guy name for our moniker' theme -- three separate Jack FMs, two Bobs, one Charlie and of course the hometown Max.
Or this: Wisconsin radio in a nutshell -- country station, country station, christian station, country station, WTFisthis/talk radio, country station, country station. Ugggggh. I did enjoy getting to sing along with Willie Nelson on 'City of New Orleans' while way out in the sticks, though.
Anyway...
The trip got off to a fine start with a good meal at J.D. Hoyt's. It's a special treat being able to give directions to Hoyt's to a straight-laced driver -- 'go downtown, it's right between Deja Vu and Sex World'.
As things were planned, I didn't expect to be able to hit Canterbury Park. Yeah, right, like I'm going to be able to stay away. Maybe I would have, except for the fact that my computer did a
very good impression of 'giving up the ghost'. After spending an entire morning trying unsuccessfully to avoid the blue screen of death, I gave up. Which meant that I had a lot more time on my hands.
Played for a few hours on Friday. I really only wanted to commit $100, so I went for the $3/$6 limit game (Minnesota law says no limit is not cool). Dropped the first hand I played (KQo vs K5s), then went on a tear. Made a couple nut flushes and boated up with a big blind A2s against a flush chaser that made it. Oops. At one point, I was +$170, which is fantastic when you suck at live poker like I do. The table was full of calling stations, and it was real easy to play hands with big implied odds cheaply.
So, anyway, I'm having fun. It's a friendly table. I'm sitting next to a regular, an asian woman named Cindy who's raising a lot, but she's the only one.
About this time, a young guy who looked vaguely like Bill Rini except he was barely old enough to shave sits down on my right. His game didn't resemble Bill's, though, as he was pretty awful.
I get aces for the first and only time. AsAd in the big blind. Cindy on my left raises. 'Bill' calls. I 3-bet, Cindy 4-bets. 'Bill' calls two more cold. I cap it at five bets, both call. We see a flop of 987 with two clubs. Ugh. Bill leads at it, I raise, Cindy calls, Bill calls. Turn is another 7.
Did that just counterfeit two crappy pair, or what? I bet, Cindy drops. I get check-raised. Maybe not.
River is a random club. Getting lots-to-one, I feel obligated to make a crying call.
Bill shows
76o, no clubs.
I hope that a crew recorded that for a 'THIS is the real Canterbury' commercial.
Cindy said she had KK.
Anyway, I played for a while longer and then started to lose focus. Made some very marginal decisions, was rewarded for none of them, and dumped back about half of my profits. Big leak in my game, not leaving when I should. But it was still a profitable session.
Went back on Saturday for a couple more hours. Very choppy session. Never down more than about ten bucks, never up more than about $50. Knew it was time to leave when my flopped set of fours was chased down by a guy with TPSK -- good idea to call two bets cold on a Q-5-4 flop with Q8s, sir. He made a runner-runner flush.
No dollars for any of you, since I gave at the cardroom.
Cashed out up $28. Not a bad weekend, and it paid for a couple tanks of gas. Live poker is fun, even if it is -EV for me.
I have no problem saying I'm a fan of the Park. One of the things I like about Canterbury is that the people don't change. You see the same dealers, brushes, chip runners, cocktail waitresses and players there year after year. I probably recognized fifty people from past trips (staff and players) and I'm not exaggerating. I had a dealer both days who I remember for having chewed a couple guys out three years ago for not pushing their chips in far enough -- he's not ordinarily a jerk. On Sunday, I sat with a familiar regular and we stayed out of each other's way. I think I picked up a lesson or two, as he cracked AA from the button with 52s and from the big blind with the hammer. Getting cute and not raising preflop with aces doesn't pay in this game.
End poker content.
I went to the sold out Twins-White Sox game on Saturday and made the drive back yesterday. If it'd timed it just a bit better, I would have been able to see some of the Blue Angels performance at the Chicago Air Show as I creeped along I-90. Oh, well. At least I got the kid at McDonald's who felt the need to tell me
"if the mcnugget machine problem doesn't get fixed soon, it's gonna be a long night." I had to check around for a sign that said 'talk to me, I care'.
And now, it's back to checkraising omatards on Titan. How? Well, it turns out my computer may not have given up the ghost after all. It hasn't, knock on wood, crashed so far since I hooked it back up. Odd. I guess running on AC with the bluetooth dongle and external monitor hooked up makes everything right.
Stupid computers.