You need to be logged in to your Sky Poker account above to post discussions and comments.
You might need to refresh your page afterwards.
You need to be logged in to your Sky Poker account above to post discussions and comments.
You might need to refresh your page afterwards.
Comments
Good luck at the tables guys and I'll see some of you in Blackpool.
Surely one of your neighbours must have an unprotected internet conx? ;-) Anyways good to see you back & have a good time in LV. Tikay will be unbearable by the time you get out there! He's burning the strip up & played some poker!
My new place has five phone sockets. So naturally when the engineer finally paid a visit to my home there was only one way for him to go:
Scratch backside for two minutes.
Stare at sockets waiting for one to talk back to him and shout 'Ta Daaaa, I'm the live one'
Get disappointed when point two doesn't happen.
Scratch backside again for a bit.
Tell me 'I can't work out which one is live so I'm just going to drill you a new one.'
So I now have six phone sockets, at least I now one that works. Well what have I missed while I've been away?
First up very well done to Andrew1947 for winning SPT Blackpool. I didn't rail the FT and I had no idea who won it until a couple of days ago. Andrew is a quality gentleman and a quality player, love the fact he took it down. My own SPT Blackpool main ended before the dinner break. I did not play well, probably the worst I have played in years. So peaking at the right time then, sigh.
In my defence my mind wasn't wholly right by the time we sat down to play. I went to a great evening of racing and Madness (the band, not the state of mind) on the Friday night with my family and as such drove up Saturday morning. A four hour motorway journey and at the end of it I had to find a hotel as well as through laziness I didn't book anywhere beforehand. But it's Blackpool, there'll be plenty of places right? Well yes, the problem is the German machine of twisted metal that surrounded me that morning. Very few places had anywhere to park. I really didn't want to go to a chain place, I wanted to give some cash to an independent. Karma and all that. I tried a few places but most were full or had no parking. Then I finally found a place.
'The No 1 hotel.' Swish name, not pretentious at all. I wander in, the inside was how i imagined a Private Member's Golf Clubhouse to look. All tweed and the smell of leather and Scotch. It seemed quite lovely. So I find reception, wait patiently and talk to the fellow behind the counter. The following first interaction is quoted word for word.
'Hi there. Do you have a single room for the night?'
'You're in the wrong place.'
Now at this I immediately thought this was a gay hotel and I missed the rainbow flag on the way in. But I've stayed in gay hotels before without a problem (there's a lovely one in Torquay but that's for another post). Hang on I thought to myself, as I walked in there were adverts for gentlemen's golfing packages available here. Now golf isn't generally the preferred sport of the gay male, not with those clothes you normally have to wear on a course. So I said 'Pardon me.'
Ok I wasn't looking the height of class, unshaven and wearing some baggy travelling gear. But he must have felt I was some kind of rapscallion as he told me, and I again quote:
'We are the number one hotel in Blackpool (points to award on wall), you can find much cheaper.' So what is the price of this room the likes of me cannot afford? I was expecting something mammoth, he told me a pricey but not huge amount of £100. I didn't tell him I had just tried to book a £130 room ten minutes beforehand across the road but didn't get in as I had no photo ID on me. To be honest I've spent more money on much less for a room but quite frankly I wasn't handing over any sheets to him now. I wished him a good day and gave more money to a chain brand. Sigh, and people wonder why a lot of the independents in Blackpool have closed in recent times.
The weekend was a great laugh though. Really good to see everyone.
Ok, enough stalling, back to the grind.
Good morning Mr. Dyer.
I must apologise for missing you at the SPT. I had intended to introduce myself at some point but I went out of the main fairly early and decided to make myself scarce. When I came back on the Sunday evening you had, of course, already scarpered. Probably something to do with having a job to go back to.
Anyway, from your diary I can at least console myself with the thought that early exits happen to the best of us. Better luck in Vegas.
good luck in vegas tommy.
i have been trading tommyd futures on the poker commodity market. my tip (almost insider trading) is buy now before the stock price soars and hedge against ryan spittals (walks the walk and talks the talk).
my enduring memory is from cardiff, standing near your table, watching you play cash sat next to a guy with lots of money but continually buying more chips. i thought, isn't tommy the nicest friendliest guy in the world, especially towards that bloke next to him.
good luck man. step forward in 2012.
My new neighbours are lovely. However they are both women who live alone and are over 65. They are not the biggest fans of the internet. I did the whole network search and for the first time ever in London I got a return of 'no networks.' My new street is straight out of Eastbourne.
Yeah I meant to find you as well but things got a little skewed. Hope you enjoyed it and catch you at the Grand Final if you're there!!
You should have seen me at the cash table at Blackpool. Irene and myself decided to go shot for shot, which was interesting. So there I am drinking Sabucca and tea at a 1/2 table. Then a guy sat down opposite me who looked exactly like the Fonz, only with a moustache. I probably bored everyone with this but I swear he was Henry Winkler's double, I fear I got rather obsessed with that fact. Must have been the drink. Blooming tea.
play nice
Oh, and ship a hug to WelshDyl from me if you must
#CRUSH
xx
I'll detail all the good stuff later but I think it's time to get the business stuff out of the way. Tourney report for the main event, part 1:
Day 1 - Levels 1 - 3
Wearing a brand new SkyPoker Shirt I wander into the Amazon room to take my seat. The surround sound of chips riffling all around me remind me of crickets in the fields at dawn, and we shuffle up and deal. I played precisely zero hands for the first hour. This was half design and half circumstance. I was always going to play slow early but I also never got a hand. I was watching and learning from those around me and it was quickly clear I was at a great table. Also a tilting one. A fellow even older than Jakally three seats to my right sat in full Good ol' boy Cowboy regalia tapped the table with two fingers every single time he folded. The first eighty times it was cute. Later ir grated. The young kid on my right had a mobile phone with a funny text chime. He got a text every thirty seconds. I wanted to smash that phone over his head.
There was literally two decent players at the table so after the hour I decided to take it up the gears. Whoops, as I ended the level on 19k. I lost a few with KK v QQ on a Q99 flop, folded on the flop of J55 V Good ol Boy when I held Queens (I'm still 50/50 if this is a good fold in this spot, I think I gave him too much credit. He had called an early raiser and called my 3bet before raising my flop lead. If I had called the flop raise then I was getting into playing for stacks territory and I just had a bad feeling I was crushed).
After the break and getting a pep talk from my bro I decided to turn it up a notch for level 2. Luckily this was the second hand after the break:
BvB I flat the SB's raise holding AT. Flop AT6r, flat the c-bet. Turn T (lovely). Check/check. River T (I think I love the dealer). I overbet the pot after the SB leads, get my value and am over starting for the first time of the main. These two levels were probably the best I played in the tournament. I started to roll over the whole table, floated the heck out of good ol' boy several times, punished limpers and was reading hands the best I did for the whole trip. I peaked at 45K and went into dinner with around 43k or so after having to fold Kings yet again. The few times I held a genuine hand I ran into a much bigger one or was obviously outdrawn, but those important orphan pots, those marginal spots, those weak moments around the table, all of those chippies were falling my way.
Sadly I never found that level of rhythm again for the rest of the tournament.
Looking forward to next instalment although I do blub at sad endings....
Industry standard I believe, not used that much anymore as the game has gotten much more aggressive and these pots don't turn up as much in the online game. Well they do but they're not as obvious as they previously were.
Good luck in the sats, I will be trying again also!
Day 1 - Level 4 & 5
So through chatting to my brother who had been railing me all day I discovered there was a bar right next to the Amazon room. After chucking a triple Espresso down his throat to help him last the remainder of the day I returned full of buzz and vigour. Then something very unexpected happened. The clock was counting down to the restart and suddenly the new person on my right (phone boy was dispatched just before the end of level 3) said to me 'Watch out!' In typical English fashion instead of 'watching out' I said 'why?' On reflection then wasn't the time to be inquisitive. It's a bit like hearing someone shout 'Watch out for the bus!' and saying 'What bus?' Splat.
Back to the Amazon Room, the reason to 'watch out' soon became quite clear. There was a sudden deafening 'SMASH!' Chips went flying, everyone jumped and the sound was ringing in my ears for the next 15 minutes. An Italian long haired fellow on a neighbouring table had for some inexplicable reason walked up to our table and crashed two musical cymbals together directly behind our Seat 8 player. As I was in Seat 6 I faced a large brunt of the noise as well. Then this fellow trotted back to his table, packed the instruments into a plastic bag and received his first hand. Mad. It's the only time I have ever called the floor to give a player a penalty and to be fair I think about 20 of us did. He received a warning to not do it again.
We chatted about the fellow for 20 minutes and to be frank I lost all focus. It was as if my mind was an Ecth-a-sketch and somehow everything was now wiped. Every time I went into myself to regain some focus I couldn't get it, it was like I was grabbing at a wet bar of soap. I decided to sit back a little and hopefully pick up some hands to chip up. It was a great table and I should be able to capitalise. Sadly I went card dead for the rest of the day. Certain creative players at the table were now calling 3bets OOP with the likes of J3 suited, catching a 3, calling down and being good. Those spots as clear as the Sun before now hid out there in the poker wilderness and every time I went to find that next gear it just wasn't there. These were players I should be making a stack out of but just nothing got going. When I got to the final hour I was mentally exhausted and extremely frustrated. It now became a simple task, make Day 2. So I dribbled to 32K for Day 2 and was so mentally shot I needed the dealer to give me the instructions for bagging up twice.
Dejected, I sloped out of the room and later met with Kev, Matt and Adam (Matt's mate) for a drink. They were elated, they had made Day 2 and with decent stacks. To be truthful I was made up for both of them, especially Kevin. I will always look back at that session as where I lost that tournament. It was a great table, but I blew it. However I will always look back at that celebration after Day 1 as one of my favourite memories of the whole trip. I really like those guys, hopeful none of those three thought I was a plonker. We had done it, Day 1 was survived, Day 2 was in two days and that night was a time to be joyous.
The Main Event - Part 3
Day 2
Refreshed after a day off and determined to spin up I take my seat in the Pavilion Room. It quickly becomes clear that good spots are all over the table. I start to make hay. A short-stack busts and we get former WSOP Main Champ Robert Varkonyi moved to my table. I have a lot of respect for Robert in terms of how he has conducted himself despite the slating he's been given (to many he was regarded as the worst main champ before Jerry Yang and IMO received a ton of unfair stick). He's a man who has lived the dream I was trying to get. However in pure ruthless terms I still regard myself as a player capable of taking advantage of him. He was three to my right and I went crazy on him. He's famous from his Main win for over playing QT, I had it twice versus him and had that mental moment of over playing it in that spot. Luckily it worked both times. Someone else on the table (the rather brash fellow on my left) did likewise but foolishly showed it. He became another spot. Within an hour I had chipped up from 32K to 40k without making a pair or going to showdown. I was rock and rolling, this was my table. I owned it, I ruled it, I was getting my stack together.
Then disaster in the shape of one of the Floor officials. 'We're breaking this table.' Those words stabbed me like a two outer on the river.
For those of you who don't know, at the WSOP when you move table to a different room you have to:
1) Bag up your chips
2) Walk in a group between the 'Floor' person and an often burly security guard; any breaking from this group leads to an instant DQ
3) Take a seat card from the Floor upon entering the new room.
Part 3 is rather a sliding doors moment, where you are in the group will dictate your fate rather than the normal cards being dealt at the table. I was last in the group, I took my card and sat at table doom.
The only obvious name at the table was Maria Ho, chipped up to well over 100k and playing a third of all hands. She was the opposite end of the table and every time she played a hand, raised, winked or coughed a boom camera would swoop down to a couple of feet above my head. It got tiresome. A few of the other players were obvious internet pros, stick thin, pasty skin and 4betting everything. A player two to my left also had over 100k and was a producer from a major Poker TV show. He'd seen a lot of poker and seemingly the free lessons were not wasted.
I battled for a while, a nice cut-off v button confrontation against one of the young guns went my way when I decided to 4bet 86s pre to his obvious 3bet steal. The scary thing that went through my mind was I was prepared to 6bet shove and the thought I telling Tikay that exit hand if I was wrong sent a small shiver down my spine. Luckily the 4bet worked. But for every step forward one went back. Maria Ho opened, some one who had 3bet a third of her opens in the last hour 3bets and I decide to cold 4bet from the button with AJs. I still prefer this to the call and hadn't played too many hands to this point (this was my first cold 4bet at the table) so I thought I could get a decent amount of folds. Ho insta folds and the 3better goes into the tank before putting out a small 5bet. He looked anything but comfortable, but I didn't have any fold equity so I mucked. He showed Jacks and later told me he really didn't want a call. I'm not completely sure turning Jacks into a bluff there was a great play by him, however he payed his money like everyone else and it worked. But at least I put him in a nasty spot, at least I hope so.
A bad sign arrived at the table just before the start of the day's third level. My musical friend from the day 1 started talking to Maria Ho. She was polite, smiley and wished him well at his table. Then when he left she told us all he always turns up when she plays and always lingers close to her. Musical and a little bit stalkerish then. With far too long hair, get it cut Hippy
Maria and me only played one hand through the streets. She 2x plus a little pre and this gets three callers before me on the BB holding 86o. Yes not a great call from me but I'm getting a decent price and really want to get something going. The flop comes down Q86ddd. Two pair, yes. All diamonds, yuck. I check, Maria C-bets, fold, fold, fold. Time to make a stand, we're going with this one. She calls my check raise and I firmly have her on a big diamond, more than likely a pair to go with it. The 7 spades comes on the turn and I shove. Maria says I must have a small flush and mucks. I'm not sure I played the hand well but at the time I didn't care.
Sadly that was about the last pot I won. Firstly I 3bet a recent arrival's UTG open with AQss. He tank jams to cover. Looking back now I think I should have called but I mucked, down purely to having no history with him. Perhaps that was when to make a stand. Next my exit hands. A young pro two to my right had been taking a lot of flops and betting strong when he saw weakness to the river without showing a hand. I open in early position with TT, he flats. The board is Q76. He checks, I check behind. He leads a 7 on the turn for half pot, I call. He bets the 4 on the river. Now I'm probably pretty face up here, but my thinking was because of this he could easily be trying to bet me off eights through tens as well as a bucket of A highs. He hadn't given up on a hand all day or shown one. I made the call, he showed AQ. Good or bad, I don't think I mind how I played it, please tell me if you think I'm wrong.
That left me with 10 BBs. I shipped it on my next BB when I held AKo. Producer man had opened, young kid with AQ before flats, I jam, producer folds, AQ guy calls with Tens and holds. GG, NH, GL.
And that was that. Matt also recently bust so we hit the bar.
All in all I thought I played poorly. I gave too much respect Day 1, I didn't keep my focus and I could have played a lot more aggressive in key spots. There's always next year, can anyone tell me when the satellites start?