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Poker Blog established in 2003 as the first stop for poker news, poker stories, and bad poker advice.

January 29, 2007

The Angle Shooter

by Otis

Nate Bell was a good kid. He was good looking, a charmer, and Eddie Haskel to my Wally Cleaver. He never actually commented on what a lovely dress my mother was wearing, but he might as well have. My Dad, while appreciating Nate's scheming ways and general sense for mischeif, never really felt all that good when I left the house to hang out with the kid from Nixa.

More in this Poker Blog! -->

January 24, 2007

The Tip

by Luckbox

For some strange reason, we each traveled hundreds of miles to sit down at the same poker table. I drove 8 hours. Bad Blood and G-Rob drove 2 hours and flew a couple hours and Otis and TheMark spent 12 hours in travel hell. And yet, there we were, all at the same damn poker table. Five of us out of the 8-10 players seated at a time.

It was stupid, if I could be so bold.

And yet, when the night was over we all walked away with a little more money in our pocket. And it was all thanks to the furry coat.

Yes, the furry coat.

More in this Poker Blog! -->

The Pai Gow Story

by G-Rob

It was late and I'd just mucked an $800 full house. I'll save that story for another time.

I cashed out my now narrow profit and took the escalator downstairs to play the -EV games I love. Otis and Luckbox were playing Pai Gow.

Here's what happened....

More in this Poker Blog! -->

January 22, 2007

The Hand of the Weekend

by Otis

It was Sunday afternoon and the NFC playoffs were on TV. The poker room was made up of the people who didn't have the cash to make it into the World Poker Open main event. Everybody looked a little tired, unshaven, and ready to be somewhere--anywhere--else.

I'd gone out to go to the bathroom. On my way back, I saw a guy bust out of the main event after only a couple of hours. His girlfriend stood outside the door with him and only said, "Now we can go home."

We, a conspicuous group of poker players from a place we would often describe as "All Over," were about to go home, as well. We were in the waning hours of a four-day trip to Tunica, Mississippi. We planned to leave for the airport at 5pm. It was just after 4pm when I walked back into the poker room and The Mark was standing up.

More in this Poker Blog! -->

January 17, 2007

Not Going to Tunica?

by Luckbox

This is what you're missing:

Roshamboozled by Otis
In the pit with Otis and the Luckbox by Otis
How to waste $1000 by Otis
Waiting for Monsters by Luckbox
The Poker People You Meet by Otis
Derailing the Express by Luckbox
Otis' Final Prelude by Otis
Tunica by way of Ego Road by Otis
The Comeback by G-Rob

If that won't make you jealous you're not there... nothing will!


January 16, 2007

My Friend Toenails

by Otis

Originally posted at Rapid Eye Reality. Then I realized it really belonged here. Because my wife told me it did.

The game began after two people had already lost. Though this pair of card players is willing to risk several hundred dollars on the turn of the card, the two ninnies weren't patient enough to wait for flight prices to level off. Rather than play the waiting game, they booked $270 flights out of a city more than an hour away. My friend Toenails and I knew we could do better.

More in this Poker Blog! -->

January 8, 2007

You coming?

by G-Rob

In place of the post I plan to write later this week, a question.

Who is coming to Tunica?

Time is running out.

Book now.


February 16, 2006


by Otis

I pulled a red chip and a white chip off my stack and handed it the old man in the Mardi Gras beads. I'd been waiting for more than an hour for my food order to arrive. I was patient because the Gold Strike offered free food to its players. C.J. was on his way to winning an $1800 pot, fueled by pure adrenaline and a tasty meatball sub that had arrived in 30 minutes.

The old man took the toke and asked me if I needed anything else. I said no, but he stood over me as I dug into the container. My mouth was already awash with au jus.

I opened the styrofoam and saw a few chips and another container full of what appeared to be vomit. Since the old dude was still standing over me, I said, "I ordered a French Dip."

"That's the only kind of dip they had," he said, as if the vomit in the styrofoam was as close to a French Dip sandwich as he could muster. "Do you want something else?"

I agreed that I did, in fact, want a French Dip sandwich, knowing I'd never see the old dude again. Bad beat, I figured, and ate the vomit.

More in this Poker Blog! -->

February 7, 2006

In the pit with Otis and C.J.

by Otis

The banks and circles of slot machines sat like a technicolor M.C. Escher eye explosion. Two round female security guards were zombies at the rear exit of the buffet. A middle-aged man rushed by, intent on getting somewhere fast. I stood still in the middle of it with my cell phone in my hand.

Maybe it's different for everybody. Maybe it's just a matter of perception. For me, it's like the empty-headed stupor that follows good sex. My vision is clear but I can't see anything on the periphery. Thoughts refuse to coalesce. Intentions present themselves and disappear as quickly as they came. Only, unlike a welcome visit from the Afterglow Bird, there is no electric tingle, no deep feeling of satisfaction. Instead, everything is just numb when I bust out of a live tournament.

More in this Poker Blog! -->

February 1, 2006

How to waste $1000

by Otis

Jessica was her name. She wore giant rocks on her fingers and a black leather jacket on her shoulders. She ordered filet and crab cakes at the table. At 4am, she'd sat down on my left and pulled what appeared to be two grand in hundreds on the table to back up her rack of red. She straddled at the first opportunity and I couldn't help stealing a glance at her torso. I wondered how much her breasts had cost and if she'd had the tiny love-handles before she started playing poker.

If there had been speculation about anything in the Tunica Grand poker room over the past few days, Jessica was in the center of it. She always had cash, whether she was wining or losing. She was always on the phone. She was always getting snarky with someone.

"Her daddy is rich," said one local.

Another local raised an eyebrow. "Her daddy or her sugar daddy?"

I wasn't sure it mattered. To be fair, the girl knew the game pretty well. Also to be fair, she wasn't afraid to put the money in when she had reason to believe she was ahead. Finally, to be fair, it seemed that winning or losing a few grand wasn't going to change her outlook on life very much.

When 4:30am rolled around, Jessica started craning her neck, looking for a better game, a game where the players were soft, a place where her Mississippi good looks and large roll of cash could win her a few hundred bucks more toward creating the perfect Poker Bitch persona. While she craned, I racked up with a small profit. I'd promised myself I wouldn't stay up all night before the $1000 event on Saturday.

More in this Poker Blog! -->

January 31, 2006

Waiting for Monsters

by Luckbox

She was wearing a $100 chip around her neck. Her earrings were pocket Aces.

"There's really no place you can go to buy poker-themed costume jewelry," the 10-seat told us.

My table leaned toward the woman poker player this day, thanks to the WSOP Circuit Ladies Event. As they busted out, they headed to the NL tables. I was there waiting. And so was the woman with the chip on her necklace. Maybe she figured it was the perfect customer base for The Poker Boutique.

The woman to my left in the 8-seat was very attractive, sexy even. Dark hair, dark eyes and a cool poker style. She was a real player, head and shoulders above the other women at the table.

"You're demeanor and voice are very familiar to me," she told me.

More in this Poker Blog! -->

January 27, 2006

The Poker People you meet...

by Otis

In Hollywood, the stars pay hundreds of dollars per hour to get over the fact their mom was an alcoholic and their dad liked to wear corsetts on the weekends. At poker tables, the group therapy only costs the blinds and rake. In Tunica, the rake was a $5 per half-hour time drop.

My dad took me to the circus. My mom made me Snicker Doodles and ice cream floats. I didn't have much to talk about, but I paid my $5 per half hour anyway.

More in this Poker Blog! -->

January 25, 2006

Derailing the Express

by Luckbox

Quick note for the ladies who read Up For Poker... if you haven't stopped by my other blog, go see how you can win me in an auction and help raise money for an important charity.

He's a large man. When he sat down to my left, I had to move my chair closer to the 3 seat. He took up a lot of room. It was also a lot easier to slide down my chip stack considering it consisted of just a 500 and a 100 chip.

Chris Grigorian had a lot more. Of course, I didn't know he was Chris Gregorian. I only knew that he was audacious enough to wear what I assumed to be his nickname on his hat. It made me want to begin printing my Luckbox trucker hats right away.

He wasn't there five minutes when he managed to join the other 8 players and I in a silent pact to crush him. We wanted nothing more than to see him leave our table with nothing but the sting of a bunch of no-nicknamed-players taking all his chips.

We got our wish.

More in this Poker Blog! -->

January 24, 2006

Otis' final prelude

by Otis

"It's not hard to play this game. The hard part is getting up and leaving."

I never got the guy's name. It's funny, you know? If you sit down to dinner with someone, you'll likely know their name before you finish your salad. At a poker table, you can spend hours and hours talking with someone. You might learn some of the most intimate details of their life. And yet, when it's all over, you couldn't even look up their name in the phonebook.

I sat with the dude who said the above line for more than 12 hours at various tables and I have no idea who he is. All I know is that G-Rob, during a late-night hit-and-run session, cracked the dude's aces with 6-9. A day later, without mention of the hand, the dude said it:

"It's not hard to play this game. The hard part is getting up and leaving."

Eight hours later, the guy had won $8000 in the nightly second chance tourney and I was still stuck.

More in this Poker Blog! -->

January 23, 2006

Tunica Tales

by Luckbox

As Otis mentioned, there are tales-a-plenty from Tunica. We'll try to list most recent at the top, but you can always click on Tunica Tales for the complete list of stories from our trip.

Tunica by way of Ego Road by Otis
The Comeback by G-Rob

I don't have time for a full story right now, but there are plenty to come. I think if you've been worried that something was missing from Up For Poker that you'll be excited by what's to come. We're home from Tunica and flush with stories.

For those backers who hadn't heard, I didn't do so well in the tourney. I'll chalk it up to experience and feel better prepared for the next one. It's time to get back to work, but I'll write more soon!


Tunica by way of Ego Road

by Otis

Chances are, this collablog is going to get confusing, with the three chief contributors all getting back from a road trip at the same time. I'll do my best to ease the confusion by listing previous posts at the top of mine.

The Comeback by G-Rob

I shuffled through the remaining bills in my pocket. Four days before, the roll had been big enough to draw attention. It was a bulge in my pants where, sadly, none had been before. Now, tired and hungover at McCarran, the bulge was gone and I returned to a familiar state of emasuclation and self-loathing. Wharfing down a bad chicken sandwich in the Prickly Pear with The Mark and Gamecock, I knew that this was not the kind of loathing Hunter Thompson had described. His loathing was one of a scene, a society, a moral culture worthy of scorn. My loathing was internal and brought upon myself. Behind me was a debaucherous weeked of revelry and wanton disregard for cash. Perhaps, I thought, that was what the weekend was supposed to be about in the first place. Still, Gamecock and The Mark had bulges where I had the last fluttering of a few hundred bucks.

Upgraded to First Class for the plane ride home, I settled back into the seat and fell into the restless sleep of a man who fancied himself as a gambler, a degenerate, and a card player. In unmemorable dreams, I realized that I was none of the above.

More in this Poker Blog! -->

The Comeback

by G-Rob

I'd just won a pretty fair pot from the older guy to my left. He was from New York and, evidently, an avid tennis player. At one point a Nashville man with an Australian accent offered to play him on the closest courts for $1000. Mr. New York politely declined. By the end of the night, he'd give me more than that at this NL game.

Just few hands later, I've got about $600 in chips with another $600 behind and the young asian player in the 2 seat is ready to test my hand.

I was in the 5 seat and on the button when he led out for a raise, making it $35 to go. I popped it up to $80 and he just called. I figured him for a strong ace. If I'm right then the flop was great for him. It was :

Ad Kh 6h

Oddly enough, he decided to check and I bet $100. He calls.

The turn is :


That puts a SECOND flush draw on the board and if he DOES have a strong ace he can't let this hand go any further. Honestly, by now, I'm worried he may have a set..especially when he checks again. Still, because I'm an aggressive donkey, I bet out another $200. He calls again.

The river is :


He checks again. Both flushes are gone and, while a straight is possible, it seems awfully unlikely given the action so far. He checks again. I bet $400 and my newfound friend goes deep in the tank before asking how much I have left. He then looks to the table, hoping they'll offer a clue about my hand, before complaining "you just sucked out on the damn river!!" and folding into the muck.

I showed the hammer and raked the pot.

More in this Poker Blog! -->

January 21, 2006

Missives From Tunica

by Luckbox

I don't have much time.

The WSOP Circuit event has cards in the air in just under an hour. Otis and I are both registered. And now we've got to follow in the footsteps of Absinthe. That's not an easy task!

So far, the G-Vegas crew is collectively in the black. Yesterday Otis and I each scored modest cashes in the WSOP 2nd chance tourney (14th adn 15th respectively), while at the same time G-Rob and BadBlood were crushing the No Limit tables.

I hope I have a good update for you tonight! Wish us luck!