THE
POKER ROOM
They
have a very active 2-4 game, actually three tables on Sunday. Most
think it is the high hand awards that draw in the crowds. The games
break up a bit after ten when the high hand promotion is over.
While most rooms have upted their low limit games to 3-6, Turning Stone is still at 2-4.
Table games on the floor have higher minimums. On Saturday night $25 craps minimum convinced me not to play.
Poker is the fugal fellow's game. However, I would like to see the game 3-6.
There
is a bad beat. $25,000. Four tens had to be beaten. Pretty stiff.
Then
a Sunday comes along when they begin to reduce what is needed to be
beaten, going all the way down to Full House.
Very
popular, but I was not there on the right Sunday for that promotion.
It
is well run. We can call in, and I advise it. The call holds a
place in line for a seat and that is your place even if others
actually arrive before you. There is a time limit on arrival.
Here
is another option from their web page.
I
missed that option, but I think I'll use it next time.
Join a Wait
List
At bravopokerlive.com,
simply create a one-time account to place your name on any of our
Bravo Poker Live Game Waiting Lists. Sign up before you leave home or
while on the way for quicker seating and less wait time when you
arrive!
I did wait for a table
for quite a while on Saturday. I was the first name on the list, but
it took a while.
Once the high hand
promotion starts players tend to keep their seats. They have a half
hour to hold the seat and eat. So, it is better to be early on the
list.
I have a two and a half
hour drive to get there, but next time I'll pack the night before and
leave early in the morning.
I try to get a seat
that is easy for my reduced vision, but a seat can't be locked up.
What works is to watch for a table opening and lock up a seat with a
card on the table. Waiting until the game is actually called means
having fewer seat options.
Seat change is
possible, but it had to be requested over and over with each new
dealer. No “seat change” buttons. I found that annoying.
Table change was very
easy. I just gave my name to the brush and he called me when he had
one available. I did that once when my table seemed a dead end of
rocks and rarely full because of players absent from their seats.
Turning
Stone is not Vegas.
Many
of the players I have seen in the past, but they don't know me. I'm
not a local there every week. I'm not in the clique.
I
don't have the same kind of interactions I generally have with fellow
Vegas players, but then a table like the Golden Nugget attracts
people from all over the world. Turning Stone attracts for the most
part regulars from not too far away.
The
hotel does offer a poker rate reduction, but the weekend rate is $125
plus tax.
It
used to be I could stay at their Inn on a poker rate for under $60.
Not any more.
There
may be a small local clique in local Vegas poker rooms as well, but
it is not the same.
Most
of the players were old men with an odd old woman thrown in on
occasion. A few were young people. You can play at Turning Stone if
you are 18 years old.
If
I cared about baseball, I could have found conversation, especially
on Sunday when there was a game.
However,
I am an atypical American male. I have little interest in sports.
I
did have some fine conversation when I asked about restaurants in the
Sylvan Lake area. They gave plenty of good suggestions. I may try
one next trip.
There
was not the old guy talk of death and disease. One regular was
reported as having passed. Otherwise, there was no talk of
operations or complaints about physical issues. No “organ
recitals” as they say in Florida. And that was very refreshing.
I
much prefer hearing about the baseball than the knee replacements.
I
was the only player at the table wearing a mask. I'm certain that
set me apart.
Covid
is down in that area, so perhaps it was overprotection on my part,
but I did like it to reduce colds as well.
I
also think that I can be easily read. I have no decent poker face.
The mask helps. Still it may have also isolated me more by making me
very different.
Dealers
had a squirt container of hand sanitizer and it was passed around
when a new game opened. I liked that. I don't think Covid was
actually spread very often on surfaces, but chips are the dirtiest
bits of things to be handling.
Finally,
I'm just not a nice guy at the table.
I
check raise. I slow play. I raise preflop. Sometimes I chase
rivers. And I don't do the, “Just you and me” check down dance.
I
play to win. I don't whine when I lose, even to myself, but I want
that $4 or $8 river profit.
Some
players are annoyed because I confuse them with some of my play.
Some
hate the check raise.
I
like it because a check raise is almost always called.
Also,
in other hands it makes the loose betters after me think before
betting, so it sets up a way of my getting a free card for draws.
I
was not popular when I flopped 8's full of 4's. I was big blind with
8-4 and no one bet preflop.
It
came up 8-8-4.
I
did not bet out.
I
did not raise the $2 bet someone made first round.
I
did raise the $4 turn bet and bet out on the river. By then a few
folks were too invested not to stay.
“He
had it on the flop,” said one fellow who was obviously annoyed with
his inability to put me on those cards.
So,
I know I annoy players who can't put me on a hand.
And,
yes, I did take a risk that someone had the 8 and their other card
would come out. But it felt more likely that with no initiating
action from me they would assume I did not have even the 8.
One
fellow in my first session told us all how he could figure what
everyone had. He said he knew that I would do something I've now
forgotten because he had been watching the way I bet.
Actually,
his speculations were rarely right, and not at all right about me.
Meanwhile,
in his table talk he revealed what he was thinking about his own
cards.
I
have in Vegas sat at tables where in some strange way a fellow player
seemed to be able to call what all of us held.
I
remember one in particular who was very good.
But
I think this one fellow had watched Rounders one too many times.
I
rarely showed if I did not have to show. I stole a few pots by a
correct perception that if I bet the river, I'd win.
I
showed junk that I played. I showed all the junk I could unless it
was winning junk. I wanted them to think I was loose.
At
any rate I was not popular.
No
one was mean to me. Just distainful.
But
then many of the players were not popular with me either.
There
was a high hand in the room $300 bonus every 20 minutes on Saturday
and a similar $500 every half hour on Sunday.
$13
was needed in the pot.
That
was a reason to raise preflop in late position, to build the pot for
a possible high hand.
It
did not work for me. In fact, I did it twice with pocket Queens and
ended up losing the pot both times. The hard loss was when I had a
Queen of spades, and there was the Ace of spades and three others on
the board. My opponent had the king.
Another
hard hand was when I held pocket Aces in last position with only two
opponents. I raised preflop, but that only put $12 in the pot. The
flop was on Ace. I checked to the river and no fourth came. I bet.
The others folded.
I
guess I feel good not to have caught the fourth Ace with too little
in the pot to qualify for the $500 high hand. However, I wished the
Ace had fallen into some opponent's hand.
If
a straight flush or four Aces hit the high hand board early in the
session, players left to do other things. I was particularly
annoyed to finally get a chance to go to the bathroom, and to pass
one of my fellow players playing slots until he timed that the high
hand had been paid.
Annoying.
There
are only 8 at the tables. If two leave there are only 6. Hardly
enough to overcome the rakes.
And
then there was the baseball.
A
Yankee game.
Of
course, everyone at the table knew just how all the baseball should
be managed, and actually knew ahead of time who would win.
My
dad played some professional baseball, and he told me that was the
most annoying part of fans. They all thought they knew more than the
managers. They all “second guessed.”
The
Baseball slowed the game while players were reminded it was their
turn and their attention brought back to the poker.
One
fellow to the right of the dealer had to almost fully turn around to
see the television, and was reminded over and over when it was his
turn.
But
then I suppose these players played poker all the time, so perhaps it
was just a diversion from watching baseball at home, and the watching
was more fun with friends watching as well.
Even
when I'm just listening, I generally like to hear table talk, and
stories. Not this time.
There
were stories about racing cars on a track. Those were the best I
got.
On
Saturday night there were players who were friends and who had a
constant banter which was not really witty and very repetitive. The
same dumb remarks over and over from guys who thought they were much
more funny than they really were.
That
was more annoying than the baseball.
I
missed the working men talking carpentry, plumbing, painting.
Usually, there are quite a few at Turning Stone. I suppose the rare
sunshine had them out working the weekend as well.
No
one talked about poetry.
No
one playing poker ever talks about poetry.
There
is a dearth of poker poems out there. The Baseball attracts the
imaginations of many poems. Poker should too.
Poker
does attract fiction writers. My buddy John Blowers published his
novel “Life on Full Tilt” and they were in the stages of casting
for the planned movie when internet poker went bust and so his
funding. Good story, however, I recommend it. Perhaps I should
being a copy to my next game so as to start a conversation on books.
So,
I missed the fun I generally have with other players at the poker
table.
Turning
Stone isn't the Golden Nugget or the old El Cortez game.
I
still had a good time.
No
drink service, but there is a beverage station and the coffee was
Farmer's brothers and I thought it was good. I brought along my
Truvia and a fine insulated cup. My poor hand control squeezes those
paper cups until the hot coffee pours out over my hand. I love the
insulated cup. On my way home I took a cup with me and it stayed
warm while I sipped for over two hours. At one point the station ran
out of paper cups and folks were shuffling about and wondering what
to do. I just said, “Excuse me” and filled up with some Farmer's
Brothers. It was almost like winning a pot.
One odd bit was that while waiting for a table with my chips a man stopped and asked if he could buy a white chip from me as he tried to collect one at every casino he visited.
I felt bad that most of mine were well worn, but I let him pick the one he wanted. He dropped me $2 and I kidded, "Hey, you can buy all of them if you want."
I wondered why he did not just go up to the Cashier and ask for a nice new looking chip. Perhaps he did not know how easy that was.
