Brighton Rack - Part 2
Hmm, I'm not entirely sure why I kept the previous Hand History so brief. I was basically half way through telling a story! Mad! I could have just waited till I get home (for I was fain to leave the house midmorning) to write a bit more, but I was in some sort of desperate rush to publish what I had already written. Completely arbitrary!
Almost as arbitrary as I and Goblin's decision to play the £50 Second Chance at the Brighton Grosvenor that Wednesday night. Arbitrary because we were using the old 'well it's profit anyway, we may as well take a shot'.
And take a shot we did! Our wallets were well padded from last night's victory, and so up we went to the cashier, confidently. A few of the people recognised Goblin as the guy who had won last night. But the atmosphere was fairly different. At least on my table. The previous night my table had been fairly talkative - I remember us talking about the WSOP Main Event 2007 Final Table, the last such tournament played before the November Nine nonsense. Tonight, everyone seemed that much more serious and marginally more talented. When I had been playing yesterday, the guy who was button when I was big blind had been a fairly passive student of the 'go on let's limp and try to see a cheap flop variety'. Tonight the equivalent guy was still somewhat studenty, but of the enter every pot with a raise and try to take it down when they other guy shows weakness variety. i.e. good. He managed to bluff me off one pot - I had 99 on the BB and had called his button raise. We checked the flop - there were a few high cards. I bet around 500 on the turn (around 2/3 of the pot) and he insta-raised to around 1700. I folded. He showed Q2 for a bluff. It didn't seem that he was trying to scare me or anything - the flip was completely impersonal, almost routine.
I felt a little out of my depth. They probably weren't so much better than me in hindsight, and if I were to play a 24 hour cash game with them I think I may have been able to hold my own without too much difficulty. But this tournament had a strange atmosphere. We had gone in with a blasé victor's confidence - even if it was technically Goblin (not me) who had won last night, we did tend to view the successes and failures as being something that we shared. We both play well and avoid tilting off our money, so neither of us should take an individual win as a great exuberant triumph. Nor should we take each defeat as some sort of tragedy.
But defeat was precisely what came next. The blinds were 50-100, and my stack was now 4,500 having started on 5,500. Basically the student guy had Aces and I had Kings. I took the second chance (paying another £50 for the privilege) and kept playing.
Goblin didn't take his rebuy/addon stack. I can't remember why - it seems we had both sort of given up on the tournament a little. I don't remember what happened with him and I didn't see it (perhaps he can post here if he remembers), but it wasn't too long after the break before he was out.
The break is worth mentioning itself. Normally casino half-time buffets consist of neat cold sandwiches and, if we were lucky, profiteroles. But as this was a higher buyin event, our buffet took the form of cooked food over in the restaurant area. There were all manner of foods - pizza sticks, chicken, potato salad... a classic feast. It was a nice, if rather temporary and stilted, vindication. "You're in the big league now, boys!"
We were quickly relegated. Mike was already out when he saw me bluff of my entire stack. It was a paired board. Caller made a sort of "it'd be rude not to" quip when I bet the flop. He checked to me on the turn. I BLASTED it all in. He called with his trip sevens. My Jack-8 had no way of sucking out of him with one card to come, and my stack was washed away with the river.
It was only 10.30pm when we left the casino, and we mulled around the streets of Brighton for a bit. We were fairly light hearted about it all, but tonight's losses had pretty much cancelled out the previous night's success.
We had been to the Grosvenor twice in two nights now. We would take a little break from there for now. We had another place in our sights but [closes the book while looking up at the camera] that will have to wait for next time!
Hmm, I'm not entirely sure why I kept the previous Hand History so brief. I was basically half way through telling a story! Mad! I could have just waited till I get home (for I was fain to leave the house midmorning) to write a bit more, but I was in some sort of desperate rush to publish what I had already written. Completely arbitrary!
Almost as arbitrary as I and Goblin's decision to play the £50 Second Chance at the Brighton Grosvenor that Wednesday night. Arbitrary because we were using the old 'well it's profit anyway, we may as well take a shot'.
And take a shot we did! Our wallets were well padded from last night's victory, and so up we went to the cashier, confidently. A few of the people recognised Goblin as the guy who had won last night. But the atmosphere was fairly different. At least on my table. The previous night my table had been fairly talkative - I remember us talking about the WSOP Main Event 2007 Final Table, the last such tournament played before the November Nine nonsense. Tonight, everyone seemed that much more serious and marginally more talented. When I had been playing yesterday, the guy who was button when I was big blind had been a fairly passive student of the 'go on let's limp and try to see a cheap flop variety'. Tonight the equivalent guy was still somewhat studenty, but of the enter every pot with a raise and try to take it down when they other guy shows weakness variety. i.e. good. He managed to bluff me off one pot - I had 99 on the BB and had called his button raise. We checked the flop - there were a few high cards. I bet around 500 on the turn (around 2/3 of the pot) and he insta-raised to around 1700. I folded. He showed Q2 for a bluff. It didn't seem that he was trying to scare me or anything - the flip was completely impersonal, almost routine.
I felt a little out of my depth. They probably weren't so much better than me in hindsight, and if I were to play a 24 hour cash game with them I think I may have been able to hold my own without too much difficulty. But this tournament had a strange atmosphere. We had gone in with a blasé victor's confidence - even if it was technically Goblin (not me) who had won last night, we did tend to view the successes and failures as being something that we shared. We both play well and avoid tilting off our money, so neither of us should take an individual win as a great exuberant triumph. Nor should we take each defeat as some sort of tragedy.
But defeat was precisely what came next. The blinds were 50-100, and my stack was now 4,500 having started on 5,500. Basically the student guy had Aces and I had Kings. I took the second chance (paying another £50 for the privilege) and kept playing.
Goblin didn't take his rebuy/addon stack. I can't remember why - it seems we had both sort of given up on the tournament a little. I don't remember what happened with him and I didn't see it (perhaps he can post here if he remembers), but it wasn't too long after the break before he was out.
The break is worth mentioning itself. Normally casino half-time buffets consist of neat cold sandwiches and, if we were lucky, profiteroles. But as this was a higher buyin event, our buffet took the form of cooked food over in the restaurant area. There were all manner of foods - pizza sticks, chicken, potato salad... a classic feast. It was a nice, if rather temporary and stilted, vindication. "You're in the big league now, boys!"
We were quickly relegated. Mike was already out when he saw me bluff of my entire stack. It was a paired board. Caller made a sort of "it'd be rude not to" quip when I bet the flop. He checked to me on the turn. I BLASTED it all in. He called with his trip sevens. My Jack-8 had no way of sucking out of him with one card to come, and my stack was washed away with the river.
It was only 10.30pm when we left the casino, and we mulled around the streets of Brighton for a bit. We were fairly light hearted about it all, but tonight's losses had pretty much cancelled out the previous night's success.
We had been to the Grosvenor twice in two nights now. We would take a little break from there for now. We had another place in our sights but [closes the book while looking up at the camera] that will have to wait for next time!
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